{"id":296,"date":"2011-04-15T07:00:30","date_gmt":"2011-04-15T14:00:30","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/markreads.net\/reviews\/?p=296"},"modified":"2011-04-14T20:05:32","modified_gmt":"2011-04-15T03:05:32","slug":"mark-reads-the-book-thief-chapter-45-46","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/markreads.net\/reviews\/2011\/04\/mark-reads-the-book-thief-chapter-45-46\/","title":{"rendered":"Mark Reads ‘The Book Thief’: Chapter 45-46"},"content":{"rendered":"

In the forty-fifth and forty-sixth chapters of The Book Thief<\/em>, Death decides to share a little bit about his experience in 1942, a particularly busy year for him, as Max\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s health begins to rapidly decline inside 33 Himmel Street. Intrigued? Then it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s time for Mark to read The Book Thief<\/em>.<\/p>\n

All of this was bound to happen, wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t it?<\/p>\n

PART SIX
\nthe dream carrier<\/strong><\/p>\n

Featuring: our collective heartbreak<\/p>\n

CH. 45: DEATH\u00e2\u20ac\u2122S DIARY: 1942<\/strong><\/p>\n

As many asides as Death gives us that break up the narrative or give us small insights into the story at large, it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s been quite some time since he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s given us information about himself in the pages of this book. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d forgotten a few of the things he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d shared, such as his humorous fascination with our preconceived notion of the scythe, or the black hood, or the face of a skeleton. Or the colors. Humans have colors when they die. Death also apparently looks like whatever we look like, too:<\/p>\n

* * *A SMALL PIECE OF TRUTH* * *
\nI do not carry a sickle or a scythe.
\nI only wear a hooded black robe when it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s cold.
\nAnd I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have those skull-like
\nfacial features you seem to enjoy
\npinning on me from a distance. You
\nwant to know what I truly look like?
\nI\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll help you out. Find yourself
\na mirror while I continue.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Which is a fascinating concept to me, and I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll ignore my desire to know more about this and just accept that Death is an entity that has nothing to do with being human as I know it, and yet seems so close to understanding and exhibiting the human condition<\/em> that he feels familiar.<\/p>\n

1942, for Death, is one of those years where, more than most times in the full picture of human history, Death has to work just a bit harder.<\/p>\n

There were certainly some rounds to be made that year, from Poland to Russia to Africa and back again. You might argue that I make the rounds no matter what year it is, but sometimes the human race likes to crank things up a little. They increase the production of bodies and their escaping souls. A few bombs usually do the trick. Or some gas chambers, or the chitchat of faraway guns. If not of that finishes proceedings, it at least strips people of their living arrangements, and I witness the homeless everywhere. They often come after me as I wander through the streets of molested cities. They beg me to take them with me, not realizing I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m too busy as it is. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Your time will come,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I convince them, and I try not to look back. At times, I wish I could say something like, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t you see I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve already got enough on my plate?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d but I never do. I complain internally as I go about my work, and some years, the souls and bodies don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t add up; they multiply.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

I think it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s really interesting that Zusak uses this to frame the history of 1942, piling the deaths up in a way to express how exponentially deadly that period in human history was. He also doesn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t ignore homelessness created by the German bombs, nor does he forget about the forced diaspora of the Jews and the unwanted, scattered from their homes and forced to live on what they can, many times succumbing to death because of it. On top of that, I cannot think of anything ever<\/em> that has offered up a perspective of the world through the eyes of Death, and Zusak has taken something that could have been incredibly gimmicky and made it into something valuable and ingenuous.<\/p>\n

They say that war is death\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s best friend, but I must offer you a different point of view on that one. To me, war is like the new boss who expects the impossible. He stands over your shoulder repeating one thing, incessantly: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Get it done, get it done.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d So you work harder. You get the job done. The boss, however, does not thank you. He asks for more.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

And this gives the sensation of the endless horror of war, the seemingly non-stop flow of death, destruction, and unhappiness that comes along with it. Yet, even in these moments of overwhelming violence, even Death can see the small, beautiful acts that still exist, despite a world that seems to inhabit none of that.<\/p>\n

The main one comes from Liesel Meminger.<\/p>\n

CH. 46: THE SNOWMAN<\/strong><\/p>\n

Liesel, once again, does something that is powerfully sweet and brilliant for Max Vendenburg, this time giving him (and the rest of the family) a Christmas present that, while only physically lasting a few hours, is the best they\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll probably ever see.<\/p>\n

On Christmas Eve, Liesel brought down a double handful of snow as a present for Max. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Close your eyes,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d said. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Hold out your hands.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d As soon as the snow was transferred, Max shivered and laughed, but he still didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t open his eyes. He only gave the snow a quick taste, allowing it to sink into his lips.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Is this today\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s weather report?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Liesel stood next to him.<\/p>\n

Gently, she touched his arm.<\/p>\n

He raised it again to his mouth. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Thanks, Liesel.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

It was the beginning of the greatest Christmas ever. Little food. No presents. But there was a snowman in their basement.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Liesel\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s actions just seem so pure<\/em> in their joy and empathy, and I think that\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s what hits me so hard. This is just so natural for Liesel. She doesn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t seem to put an inordinate amount of thought into any of this. She just understands<\/em> what can cheer Max up.<\/p>\n

So\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6the snowball scene. It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s beautiful. Again, another moment I would love to see on film, though I know at this point that adapting this for the screen is seriously impossible. It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s so fantastic to see the entire group, Rosa especially, act so childish and immature and I mean that entirely as a compliment, too. Instead of dissecting any of that, though, I was interested to see what any of your feelings and experiences are regarding snow. The only reason I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m bringing this up is because I just met someone this month who has never<\/em> touched snow, and I had forgotten that it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not a thing<\/em> for everyone. I spent over seven years in Boise, Idaho, and we had a white Christmas every year, so it was a bit disconcerting to move to Southern California and then not see snow again for TWENTY YEARS. Twenty years holy god.<\/em> In fact, I haven\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t had a white Christmas since I was eight, though I got really, really close in 2009 when I got stuck in Boston during that gigantic blizzard on the east coast that year. (FUCK YEAH FOR AN EXTENDED VACATION IN BOSTON.)<\/p>\n

That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s when I realized that, since it had been so long since I spent longer than a few hours in snow, I did not have the same relationship with snow as most people do. People I meet are generally not that excited about it, though they fall on one side of the spectrum in regards to why that is. They either dislike it because they have no experience with it and it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s too cold and you have to wear special clothes and none of this is fun to them, OR<\/strong> they\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve grown up their whole lives with snow and it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s nothing special or to be excited about because it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s just another geographical nuisance. Obviously, people can exist all over this spectrum, but I certainly fall on the side of I LOVE SNOW AT ALL TIMES<\/strong>. I didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t grow up with it to a point that it would ever become a nuisance to my job or my commute or anything like that. I stopped living around it when I was eight, and when you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re eight, snow is magical Jesus flakes from the sky<\/em> and that\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s about as in-depth as I got in those days. Snowmen! Sleds! Snow forts! Snowball fights! That magical crunch that ever step sends up to your ears, the way it transforms every city block into some ridiculous postcard, the way an untouched snow drift just looks so perfect and smooth\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6I loved all those things about snow.<\/p>\n

I only saw snow twice before that blizzard in 2009, both times in extremely short spurts, so while the city of Boston and New York both groaned and sighed at the news that it would start snowing that winter, my eyes widened in anticipation. WAS I GOING TO PLAY IN THE SNOW? SURELY THIS WOULD HAPPEN AND MY FIRST VACATION EVER<\/em> AS AN ADULT WOULD INVOLVE SNOW. RIGHT? RIGHT? RIGHT?????<\/strong><\/p>\n

Ok, so seriously, I know this has ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH NAZI GERMANY IN 1942 and might tonally be the most irritating shift in my review ever, but I really need to tell this story because:<\/p>\n

1)\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0 It is actually relevant to why I love the snowball scene in The Book Thief<\/em>.<\/p>\n

2)\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0 There is not one second of it that is depressing and I SWEAR MY LIFE IS NOT ENDLESS DOOM AND FUCKERY, YOU ALL<\/em>.<\/p>\n

3)\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0 It involves one of the poorest decisions I have ever made in my entire life and yet, if I had a TARDIS, I would go back just to cross my own time stream to tell my past self to CONTINUE ON THIS PATH TO FOOLISH RIGHTEOUSNESS BECAUSE IT IS ABSOLUTE PERFECTION<\/strong><\/p>\n

4)\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0 Farts.<\/p>\n

Ok, let\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s establish a few things that are absolutely integral to the story:<\/p>\n