The Book Thief

11 05 2007

I finished The Book Thief over a week ago. I don’t know why it has taken so long for me to write about it. It is still very much with me, and I suspect always will be.

I found myself sobbing for the final 50 or so pages and I cannot remember a book ever having such an effect on me. And most of that is because of its simplicity. It is so simple and yet so profound and emotional.

There was a sense of inevitability about the book, this looming knowledge of what was to come, and yet it was as affecting – or perhaps even more so because of that inevitability and because I didn’t know as much as I thought I knew.  And I won’t say more than that because I wouldn’t want to give away anything.

I have passed it on to the Artsy Mama and I’m recommending it to everyone, to absolutely everyone I’ve been talking to in the past week. I even find myself wanting to wave down people on the street and tell them, “There’s this book you must read…”

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