
*BEEEEEP* This has been a test of the Emergency Comma System. Had this been a real emergency, you'd have a lot of explaining to do to Grandma.
In this blog I’ll hit some of the highlights (with no big spoilers).
Technically, The Book Thief is a young adult novel. But if someone hadn’t told me that, I wouldn’t have known. I think this is one of those great books that you could read over and over again, at different stages of your life, and get different things out of it each time. My 13-year-old neighbor told me students at his school read it. I hope he reads it too.
The Writing
As a writer, it’s hard not to love an author who describes characters like this:
I don’t know much about Markus Zusak, but the man has a gift for metaphor. I love that these descriptions are vivid, succinct, and hilarious all at the same time. Yet they also leave the character’s appearance mostly open to personal interpretation.
In this book, Zusak often describes non-physical things as if they were physical, and in doing so he brings them to life in a way I’ve seldom seen. Take this example:
When Liesel left that day, she said something with great uneasiness. In translation, two giant words were struggled with, carried on her shoulder, and dropped as a bungling pair at Ilsa Hermann’s feet. They fell off sideways as the girl veered with them and could no longer sustain their weight. Together, they sat on the floor, large and loud and clumsy.
* * *TWO GIANT WORDS * * *
I’m Sorry
The Narrator
The main character in The Book Thief is a girl named Liesel, who lives in a small town outside Munich during the 1930s and 1940s.
But the narrator is Death. He (she? we never learn) narrates the story in the first person. He describes what happens to Liesel and the other characters, but he also describes his own “job” of carrying away the souls of the recently deceased. It’s Germany during World War II, so as you might imagine, Death puts in some overtime.
I was both intrigued and amused to have Death as the narrator. From an author’s standpoint, it’s clever – what other narrator could be so all-knowing and all-powerful? Only God, I suppose (and if you look at it a certain way, they’re the same thing).
As a character in this story, Death is both supernatural and human. He relays the events without judgment. Judgment is not Death’s job. But he does describe being moved by human beings and the things they are capable of, even in times of great sorrow. At one point, Death mentions God. He says he asks God questions, but God never answers; he just sends Death his next assignment.
The Style
I liked that the story is presented without analysis (other than the colorful metaphors). Mostly it’s just the characters, scenes, and events, plain and bare for you to look at. A style like that forces you to feel your own feelings, relate the events to your own experiences, and form your own opinions.
One of the things I’ve learned about writing fiction is that sometimes it’s better to just lay things out for the reader to see, with no spin, no angle. Let the reader’s imagination do the work. It makes for a more personal experience for the reader. It also makes the story more about the reader than about the author, which is brilliant, when you consider the fact that most authors never meet most of their readers.
We talked about this book at a book club that I attended. I was struck by how different people’s impressions of the story were. Some people thought it was very sad and they didn't like it. Others thought it was wonderfully uplifting. Some readers thought the author was implying certain things that other readers did not. You could get the sense that the author was anti-war, yet you can't point to anything in the book that actually says that.
It was a good book club choice. It gives you a lot to talk about.
No one answers that question better than my friend and colleague Sue Baugh. Her new book Echoes of Earth, which comes out this fall, is filled to the brim with photos of ancient mineral sites. These colorful, dramatic rock formations are a geologist’s dream. But the book deals equally with what these sites mean to us as living beings, and their potential to inspire us.
The Book
Echoes of Earth has been Sue’s passion and labor of love for several years. She and her co-author traveled to far corners of the earth (including Greenland, Australia, the Northwest Territories) to take these stunning photographs. Check them out (and order the book) at their website, www.wildstonearts.com.
I wish I could share what it is like to watch Sue present. Last weekend, to an audience at Fritz Pastry in Chicago, she showed slides of her photographs and her journey around the world, and shared the lessons she’s taken from that journey. Her sense of wonder and appreciation of these natural phenomena is contagious.
And, I confess, the decorator in me is salivating over the textiles being created as companion products. If those hoodies get finished anytime soon, Sue, my birthday is in September!
Can Science Be Spiritual?
I’ve always loved science. It’s why I majored in biology. I love knowing how things work, and how we can create medicine using natural processes and plants.
Science – and nature itself – can often seem dry, cold, clinical, and dispassionate (which is one reason I left the lab to pursue more creative lines of work). Yet nothing on this earth is more spiritual to me than standing in the middle of a vast forest, or on the side of a mountain. Nowhere on earth do I feel more inspired, more humbled, more imaginative, or more at peace. I’ve never been able to explain that. I just know it’s true.
I think Sue gets that. Her book covers the science: how minerals create colors and patterns in stone; how continental drift created similar geological sites on opposite ends of the planet; how colossal shifts in the earth’s crust can turn million-ton slabs of rock onto their sides so that horizontal deposits now point at the sky. But ultimately it’s about what happens to you when you witness these phenomena. It’s about how taking yourself into nature itself creates an experience that is incomparable with anything man-made.
I encourage you to check it out. I think you’ll like it.