The Book Thief was recommended to me by two colleagues who know how much I love to read. They told me that I would love it and that I had to read it. One told me that I was Liesel. These two ladies know me well. I loved the book. And, I could be Liesel. In many ways I am and in many ways I am glad that I am not.
The Book Thief is actually a novel written for young adults about WW2 and it is told by Death (which is not as weird as you would think--he's actually quite interesting and certainly has a unique perspective on life). I have read more about WW2 as an adult than I ever did as a teenager and I think it's fairly funny. It seems that every year my social studies and history teachers were obligated to begin teaching at the dawn of man and to move forward. Invariably, this meant that I only ever learned history up until WW1. I had to learn past 1920 all on my own. The Book Thief is the second book I've read this year about WW2 (check out my blog for the other one!). I enjoyed the other one, too.
But, even though WW2 was the background for The Book Thief, I think that theme is secondary to the theme of words and this is where this book hits really close to home for me. Liesel first steals a book to remind her of events. She can't even read, but she takes the book anyway to help her remember (I wish I could tell you what it helps her remember, but I don't want to ruin the book). She also steals books to help her ease her pain. Ultimately, she reads because she has discovered the power of words. Now, I have never stolen a book (or anything else for that matter), but I know the feeling of holding a book and having it bring back memories. I have also read books to help ease pain. And, I know the power of words.
Words for me are invaluable and hold incredible meaning. I used to think that books were what I valued and that I read because of the books. I loved holding them and smelling the pages and would smile with every turn of the page. But, Liesel helped me to see that it's not the book, it's the words that I treasure. As I read this novel, I started to realize that I crave words. I re-read books. I re-read old yearbook entries. I saved every letter Rob wrote to me the first summer we dated just to be able to read them again and again (although they got lost somewhere along the way in a move because I can't find them anymore and I feel as though I have lost a huge chunk of my life). I recently printed a message my cousin sent me through FB because his words describing my dad were so powerful and overwhelming that I needed to carry them with me. I now keep that printed message in a pocket of my purse so that I can re-read it whenever I need to. I crave words, particularly the written word. They make life real to me. They remind me of what was and what can be. Now that I am older and can't remember things quite as accurately as I used to, I need those words to help me remember. Words can evoke a feeling and emotions. Words from long ago make me feel young again.
One of the most powerful images to me as I read The Book Thief is when Liesel begins to steal books from the Mayor's wife and climbs into their house through a window. She enters the library and is drawn to the books on the shelves. The words are all around her. This scene, along with the previous scenes where she was invited into this lbrary and ended up on the floor reading, made me think of my desire for a library in my house. As you can imagine, bookshelves are abundant in my house, but one day--when my girls are gone--I have big plans for Abigail's room. It's a room that gets a lot of light and one day, it will be my library. I can see bookshelves lining the walls, a big chair, and me, reading happily surrounded by words. One day...
Liesel's fascination with words began with books, and as she learned to read, she discovered the power that words hold and that life can be opened up through words. As a child, I read books because I was alone. I was an only child until I was 11 and I grew up on a farm. There was family close by, but my cousins were all older than me so I read to have company. Books opened up the word to me. I met new people, went to new places, and realized through those words that life could be very different from the life I knew. In that way, Liesel and I are alike. But, Liesel and I differ in one very important way. She learned at 14 something that I still struggle with as an adult. Liesel learned the power of spoken words. My comfort level is with written words, as they can be crafted and reworked until you can make the exact point you want to make. Spoken words are trickier--you can't take them back once you say them and I am terrible at saying things I don't mean when I am angry, or at getting tongue-tied when I am nervous. I tend to be more reserved and more cautious with my spoken words. For example, I am not the sort of person to ever say "I love you" unless I mean it. I am a teacher, but I am scared to death to speak in front of people (over the age of 10). Now, if you give me a book and ask me to read it to 500 people, well..., that's a piece of cake! I wish I could be like Liesel. She wasn't afraid of her words. She used them and she used them well.
Liesel also discovered the beauty of writing during the course of her life. I would love nothing more than to write a book one day. I have had the privilege of being published (in a VCU textbook on assessment), but I don't want to be remembered one day for being a Teacher of the Year who happened to really understand how to effectively assess the learning of 5 year olds. Well... I guess I do want that a little, but I don't want that to be the only thing people remember. Writing a book is powerful stuff and I so want to take on that challenge, but I have never been able to find the right words. The best I can do is to read the words written by others and detail my thoughts and feelings about their work. It gives me my word fix, but it's not the same. I have thought about writing down my life in a black leather book like Liesel, but have often wondered who might want to read it. My kids, I guess. Knowing my thirst for the written word, I'd probably read it over and over myself! But, I've never done it. I've never even tried. I'm too busy reading the words of others to have the time.
The Book Thief is going in my top 10 books for 2011. I loved it. Enough to read it again. And again. And maybe even again. I did realize as I read The Book Thief that I was going to have a hard time choosing just 10 books for my favorite reads list. It's going to be like trying to decide which child is your favorite. Words, all words, are a treasure and every book I've read this year has been meaningful. The Book Thief, though, is one of the most meaningful books I've read in a very long time.
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