Jun 23, 2009 12:26 AM
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(Updated Jun 23, 2009 01:00 AM)
I am in all truthfulness attempting to be cheerful about this whole topic, though most people find themselves hindered in believing me, no matter my protestations. Please, trust me. I most definitely can be cheerful. I can be amiable. Agreeable. Affable. And that's only the As. Just don't ask me to be nice. Nice has nothing to do with me.
~ Death
I am a confirmed bibliophile, a term I abhor, and prefer to call myself a bookaholic. Most of the books I read, I rush through like a greedy child, hurling towards the climax. but there are times, rare though, when I stumble upon a book which I am loathe to finish. A book so truly remarkable that I cherish each word, savor it as a famished parched soul would cherish a long promised meal. I generally am loathe to review books, and yet, there are times when words refuse to stay inside my head, and must make their presence felt.(and how do I manage to write about me me me in everything I write about!)
Ok, without much ado, let me stop being a narcissist, and get down to business. This is a story of a young girl called Liesel, her foster family, her friends and her coming of age, in a Germany beset by World War II. The story has been narrated by death, but death is not the grim reaper we know of, but an often tired, jaded character, who tries to understand the humans who escape it, and those whose souls it carries in its arms, up towards the sky. Death first comes across Liesel when her younger brother dies, and hangs around to watch her steal her first book, The Gravedigger's handbook, left lying in the snow by the gravediggers. Liesel is then sent to Hans and Rosa Hubermann, her foster parents. Hans paints houses and plays accordion, and Rosa, a gruff woman, does laundry for the rich people in town. Liesel also becomes best friends with Rudy, who idolizes Jesse Owens to an extent that he painted himself black and ran across town one night, an act for which he was chastised by his father, who realized what a saving grace Rudy's blond hair and blue eyes were in present Germany. Undercurrents anyone?
The book takes a dramatic turn when Max, a Jew comes to the Hubermanns'. Max is the son of a fellow soldier who saved Hans's life in the first world war. And now, when Jews are being persecuted all over Germany, he comes to Hibermanns', seeking help. Hans, though he knows what a risk he is taking, lets Max lives in the basement.Max and Liesel become close friends, and for her birthday, he writes her an absolutely beautiful story, The Standover Man, which actually was the story of Max himself, a story which is heart-breaking in its poignance. All this while, death observes them, a death which has been rendered in vivid colors, a lonely, haunted, tired death, who, through eternity, has had time enough to study humans and wonder at them, be perplexed by them. A being, who is pushed by its boss, to hurry up and get the work done. and when the work becomes unbearable it watches the color of the sky as it gathers all the souls to carry them away. It brings a smile to your face, while leaving you with a heavy heart.
The Book Thief is one of the most wonderful books I have come across recently, and Markus Zasuk, a wonderful author, who I am definitely going to read more of. The narrative is full of ironical contrasts. Max painting the book he gifted Liesel on white washed pages of Hitler's Mein Kampf, Rudy painting himself black to mimic Jesse Owens, the feeling of cowardice which burdens Max because he left his family to fight for his own survival. the list is never-ending. then there are the metaphors. Max comparing himself and all Jews to rats, forced to hide beneath the ground for survival, Max dreaming of a fist fight with the Fuhrer, who when seemingly defeated, whips the witnessing crowd in a frenzy, and "the fists of an entire nation" pound Max, and he collapses under the combined onslaught. Winners end up losing, concentration camp inhabitants end up living long lives. and last but not the least, it talks of Germans without any chip on the shoulder. people who reacted like any others might under a life threatening situation, either they gave way, or they buckled up, but whatever they choice they made, probably it was the best under the circumstances. If its possible to probe the psyche of an entire nation, the author has done that here. And the words. the wonderful words which resonate throughout the book. a sample:
*There was once a strange, small man. He decided three important details about his life:
He would part his hair from the opposite side to everyone else.
He would make himself a small, strange mustache.
He would one day rule the world.
.Yes, the Fuhrer decided that he would rule the world with words. p-445*
And, what makes it so endearing is the fact that amidst the mindless genocide, the book offers us a never dying hope, a hope in the form of Liesel, who despite all the evil around her, retains her sanity and goodness of heart, and remains a human whom even death loves. The hope in Liesel is not foolish, it is not an ostrich's vision, and it is all the more stronger for that very reason. It is a hope which lets a German offer a Jew a piece of bread, despite the fact that both the German and the Jew get whipped for the act of generosity. Its a hope which brings tears to your eyes by its sheer courage, and makes you smile though your tears, raise your chin, ready to face whatever life dishes out your way. Like Ghalib said.
"**Liye jaati hai kahin ek tawaqa Ghalib
Jada rah kashish kafe karm hai hum ko"
P.S. Thanks Subha, for leading me to this wonderful wonderful book! *