Stayed in bed longer than usual this morning. Politely turned down BFF’s invitation for a walk to Mt Makiling. He understood perfectly, knowing that I was on the last few pages of “The Book Thief”, my bedside companion since February. I guess no one reads through its ending without shedding quiet tears. Like I did. And to get my head unstuck on Liesel Meminger’s world on Himmel Street, I rise up to deadhead the petunias and take photos of the mickey mouse plant after the bees said hello to the flowers. Flowers with delicate little arms that reach out to heaven in prayer!
 |
| Ochna serrulata. Mickey mouse plant. |
.jpg)
But these images are not as compelling as those etched on my mind by The Book Thief’s words. "I have hated the words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right," wrote Liesel Meminger. Yes, this book is about words, powerful words which can make and unmake worlds. Each character in the book wielded words: the Führer, Liesel, Hans, Rosa, Max, Ilsa.
Ultimately though, Markus Zusak is the virtuoso of the word. He has the gift of sowing gems of figurative language on every page. No metaphor seemed misplaced, stilted or contrived. They just flowed naturally from leaf to leaf. The narrative pushes you to turn the page, but you slow down to read and reread the words, the phrases, the sentences. I even read the lines aloud to myself. So if you are fascinated with words, this book is for you. Strange that I now realize I have been reading a succession of war stories since January this year. All of them told through the eyes of courageous young girls. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph.” – Markus Zusak, The Book Thief.
