I'm not really a public book review sort of person. I read lots of books. I love some and I don't love others as much, but I love to read. To me, as to many others, books are a ticket to another existence. They are imagination, they are education, they are inspiration They are freedom. But this book, while being all of those things, also held me prisoner. A friend lent it to me at Christmas time, and it took me six months to pick it up. I just wasn't in the mood for what I just knew would be some serious Holocaust book. I finally started reading it a few days ago, mostly because I've been feeling bad for keeping my friend's book for so long. It took me completely off guard. It was not just some some serious Holocaust book.
The Book Theif had me hooked by the first chapter, shackled within the first 100 pages, and had completely carried me away by the end.
Narrated by Death and set in a poor neighborhood in the heart of Nazi Germany, the story follows a young girl through the war years as she learns the true and awesome power of the spoken and written word. The story is beautiful and heartbreaking, told as if seen through a veil of smoke, yet as sharp in the mind as if etched in glass. I'm not going to share any details; I feel like they would spoil the book for you. But find this book and read it. I dare you.
