The Book Thief

Powerful.
I loved this book, which I must say is odd for me because I typically only enjoy more light-hearted books (life is hard enough - why add more misery?). But The Book Thief was compelling, heart wrenching, intriguing, thought provoking, even life changing.

Liesel Meminger is a foster child living in World War II Germany. From the very first book she steals, The Gravedigger's Handbook, she is intrigued by words. "I have hated the words and I have loved them..." Her world is impacted by words.
Leisel begins living with the Hubermanns at age nine. Though coarse and gruff, they grow to love each other as much as a real family. Leisel's view of the world is expanded when the Hubermanns begin hiding a Jew (Max) in their basement and the two become friends. The story begins in 1939 and takes you to the end of the war.
One of the most unconventional parts of this book is that Death is the narrator. Not a dark and scary Death, but rather a tired and sickened Death (disgusted by the horrors humans inflict on each other). Death tells the story to prove to himself that humans are worth it (as Markus Zusak explained in an interview included at the end of the book). I loved how every so often Death would interrupt the story with a special "bulletin" to clarify or emphasize a point. Death's last bulletin was my favorite: "I am haunted by humans."

I loved the language in this book; the way Zusak paints a picture with words - not just a picture, but an emotion. I have never read anything like it, so I am including a portion of the book so you can understand what I mean.

From pages 252 to 253

Evidently the mayor's wife was shocked when she saw her again. Her fluffy hair was slightly wet and the wrinkles widened when she noticed the obvious fury on Liesel's usually pallid face. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out, which was handy, really, for it was Liesel who possessed the talking.
"You think," she said, "you can buy me off with this book?" Her voice, though shaken hooked at the woman's throat. The glittering anger was thick and unnerving, but she toiled through it. She worked herself up even further, to the point where she needed to wipe the tears from her eyes. "You give me this Saumensch of a book and think it'll make everything good when I go and tell my mama that we've just lost our last one? While you sit here in your mansion?"
The mayor's wife's arms.
They hung.
Her face slipped.
Liesel, however, did not buckle. She sprayed her words directly into the woman's eyes.
"You and your husband. Sitting up here." Now she became spiteful. More spiteful and evil than she thought herself capable.
The injury of words.
Yes, the brutality of words.
She summoned them from someplace she only now recognized and hurled them at Ilsa Hermann...
..."This book," she went on..."I don't want it." The words were quiter now, but still just as hot. She threw The Whistler at the woman's slippered feet, hearing the clack of it as it landed on the cement. "I don't want your miserable book..."
Now she managed it. She fell silent.
Her throat was barren now. No words for miles.
After a miscarriaged pause, the mayor's wife edged forward and picked up the book. She was battered and beaten up, and not from smiling this time. Liesel could see it on her face. Blood leaked from her nose and licked at her lips. Her eyes had blackened. Cuts had opened up and a series of wounds were rising to the surface of her skin. All from the words. From Liesel's words.

My recommendation: READ IT! So good. So worth it.