Brian's Reviews > The Book Thief

“I have hated the words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right.”

I first read THE BOOK THIEF in 2007, and I loved it. So much so that when I started a book club that same year, it was the inaugural book we read together. Fast forward to today: our club has just finished our 100th book, meeting every other month. To celebrate, I chose to revisit the novel that started it all. This reread reminded me of just how much I loved the book the first time—and perhaps even more this time around. Life got in the way, and I didn’t begin reading until just three days before our meeting. Still, I finished it in time, completely engrossed.

At just under 600 pages, this novel is no small commitment, but it’s worth every moment. The story is beautiful. The plot is engaging. The characters are people you feel you already know. Author Markus Zusak’s portrayal is unsentimental, and yet the book is overflowing with sentiment. It somehow balances restraint and emotional depth without falling into melodrama. There are elements that, in lesser hands, would feel trite or overdone—hallmarks of Holocaust-era fiction that can sometimes verge on the nauseating. But Markus Zusak rises above these tropes. He takes the extraordinary and transforms it into something profound.

One of the standout features of this text is its use of language. Zusak is a stunningly creative writer. His use of figurative language is consistently brilliant. Nearly every page contains a unique description or line that stops you in your tracks. One that stayed with me: "The clouds arched their backs to look behind." Are you kidding me? I’ve never read a description of clouds like that, and yet, I completely understood what he was conveying.

Then there are the characters—imperfect, authentic, and deeply human. You love them not because they are flawless, but because their flaws are real, relatable, and ultimately lovable. In their small worlds, their love and relationships make perfect sense. The people they love are their whole worlds.

Mr. Zusak also brings a fresh tone to a well-covered subject. The novel has a Holocaust and WWII backdrop, but it’s not the typical narrative. It’s narrated by Death, which adds a layer of perspective that’s both philosophical and strangely intimate. The setting—a small German town during the war—allows us to witness the daily lives of ordinary Germans. Yes, Nazism and Hitler are ever-present, but the focus is on how decent people survive in an indecent world. It explores how good neighbors and friends can exist—even among those who may harbor or accept indecent ideas. Importantly, there is no Allied perspective. This story is entirely told from the German side, offering a rare glimpse of humanity in places we’re often taught to view with moral distance. It doesn’t ask us to excuse evil—it invites us to recognize the complexity of human life.
There’s a line in the book that struck a deeply personal chord: “You can do all manner of underhanded nice things when you have a caustic reputation.” That’s me in a nutshell. It’s a line written by someone who understands human nature, who has clearly spent time observing people in all their contradictions.

From the beginning, Death warns us that most of the characters we meet—and come to love—will not survive. That’s not a spoiler; it’s part of the book’s structure. But by the time it happens, we’ve come to know them so well that their deaths are a gut punch. I found myself tearing up more than once—and that’s rare for me when reading. In that way, THE BOOK THIEF reminds me of OUR TOWN by Thornton Wilder. It’s about the fleeting, fragile beauty of everyday life. The end result—death—is the same, whether we live in a war zone or on a peaceful mountaintop. And yet, we so often forget the inevitability of that end. Do we truly see the things around us? Do we value them?
I believe that’s the core message of this wonderful book.
I loved the people I encountered in its pages: a kind-hearted painter with an accordion; a sharp-tongued wife whose heart is as big as her voice; a young girl who’s suffered immensely, finding solace in words and books; a loyal, athletic little boy falling in love for the first time; a man forced to hide in a basement because of his heritage; a grieving Nazi mayor’s wife, whose hidden humanity still flickers beneath her sorrow.
I could go on—the list of memorable characters is long.

Quotes:
• “They ignore the reality that a new version of the same old problem will be waiting at the end of the trip.”
• “Trust was accumulated quickly, due primarily to the brute strength of the man's gentleness, his thereness.”
• “A snowball in the face is surely the perfect beginning to a lasting friendship.”
• “And it would show me, once again, that one opportunity leads directly to another, just as risk leads to more risk, life to more life, and death to more death.”
• “But then, is there cowardice in the acknowledgement of fear?”
• “There was nothing like a good fight to expel the teenage energy. Even the enemies were an inch away from friendship.”
• “It was one of those conversations that require some time to elapse between exchanges.”
• “I see their ugly and their beauty, and I wonder how the same thing can be both.”
• “She was saying goodbye and she didn't even know it.”
• “Words are so heavy, she thought...”

If you’ve read THE BOOK THIEF before and haven’t revisited it, I encourage you to do so. It’s just as powerful the second time. Maybe even more so.