{"id":306,"date":"2011-04-20T07:00:27","date_gmt":"2011-04-20T14:00:27","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/markreads.net\/reviews\/?p=306"},"modified":"2011-04-17T22:39:15","modified_gmt":"2011-04-18T05:39:15","slug":"mark-reads-the-book-thief-chapters-53-54","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/markreads.net\/reviews\/2011\/04\/mark-reads-the-book-thief-chapters-53-54\/","title":{"rendered":"Mark Reads ‘The Book Thief’: Chapters 53-54"},"content":{"rendered":"

In the fifty-third and fifty-fourth chapters of The Book Thief<\/em>, Zusak spends time showing us just how happy Liesel Meminger and Rudy Steiner can be in the great war, ostensibly because he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s about to rip it all away any second now. You bastard<\/em>. If you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re intrigued, then it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s time for Mark to keep reading The Book Thief<\/em>.<\/p>\n

It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s weirding me out that we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re so close to the end. What, less than two hundred pages now? And after these two chapters, we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re rapidly approaching being three-quarters through the novel, and that<\/em> much closer to Rudy\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s bombing and the time Hans escapes death in 1943. I have to say, I really do not find all the internal spoiling irritating anymore. It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s just accented the book in this really unique way, because now I need to know how<\/em> all of this comes about.<\/p>\n

Damn you, Markus Zusak.<\/p>\n

PART SEVEN<\/strong><\/p>\n

the complete duden dictionary and thesaurus<\/strong><\/p>\n

featuring:<\/p>\n

way too much joy for the oncoming storm<\/p>\n

CH. 53: CHAMPAGNE AND ACCORDIONS<\/strong><\/p>\n

In the summer of 1942, the town of Molching was preparing for the inevitable. There were still people who refused to believe that this small town on Munich\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s outskirts could be a target, but the majority of the population was well aware that it was not a question of if, but when. Shelters were more clearly marked, windows were in the process of being blackened for the nights, and everyone knew where the closest basement or cellar was.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
I actually didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t know this was something people did to prepare for potential bombings, the whole blackening of windows. So I was pleasantly surprised to read that because of this, Hans suddenly has work. A lot<\/em> of work. More than ever. It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s because of this that Liesel is able to spend more time with her papa by accompanying him on some of these work days.<\/p>\n
They carted his paint through the town, smelling the hunger on some of the streets and shaking their heads at the wealth on others. Many times, on the way home, women with nothing but kids and poverty would come running out and plead with him to paint their blinds.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Frau Hallah, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m sorry, I have no black paint left,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he would say, but a little farther down the road, he would always break. There was tall man and long street. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Tomorrow,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d promise, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153first thing,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d and when the next morning dawned, there he was, painting those blinds for nothing, or for a cookie or a warm cup of tea.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
Oh, Hans. He\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s been painted as a figure of compassion and love, and it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s great to seem him be able to spread that about town, sometimes taking half a cigarette as payment, doing what he can to help out others. It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s also interesting to see how his behavior and attitude clashes so much with Rosa, yet she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s just as caring and loving as he is, just in a completely different way.<\/p>\n
Here in chapter fifty-three is the first time Death decides to share with us Liesel\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s eventual writing, that autobiography that\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s only been hinted at. (I shouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t define it as an autobiography, as it might just be a diary. Or a collection of stories. Or whatever<\/em>.)<\/p>\n
That summer was a new beginning, a new end.
\nWhen I look back, I remember my slippery
\nhands of paint and the sound of Papa\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s feet
\non Munich Street, and I know that a small
\npiece of the summer of 1942 belonged to only
\none man. Who else would do some painting for
\nthe price of half a cigarette? That was Papa,
\nthat was typical, and I loved him.<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n
I almost wanted to say LOL SHE WRITES LIKE MARKUS ZUSAK, but still\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6I WOULD LIKE TO SEE A BIT MORE, DEATH. Oh god, we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re not going to, are we? DRAT. I bet we aren\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t.<\/p>\n
Most of what takes up chapter fifty-three is the ongoing growth between Hans and Liesel. Getting to work with him means a few things for Liesel beyond the obvious fact that they get to spend a lot of time together. Hans is an affectionate father, and he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s always been very physical with Liesel, and these moments while painting are still full of love and yet they all seem so whimsical and silly. (In a good way.)<\/p>\n
On other occasions, when she was daydreaming, Papa would dab her lightly with his brush, right between the eyes. If he misjudged and there was too much on it, a small path of paint would dribble down the side of her nose. She would laugh and try to return the favor, but Hans Hubermann was a hard man to catch out at work. It was there that he was most alive.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
And that last point is the other half of what Liesel gets to experience that she hasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t really seen before. From his accordion playing, to his general demeanor, to the way he speaks with his customers, Liesel gets to watch him doing exactly what it is that he loves. Even that is a new adventure to her, as she learns that her father is really good<\/em> at what he does:<\/p>\n
Like most people, she assumed her papa simply took his cart to the paint shop or hardware store and asked for the right color and away he went. She didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t realize that most of the paint was in lumps, in the shape of a brick. It was then rolled out with an empty champagne bottle. (Champagne bottles, Hans explained, were ideal for the job, as their glass was slightly thicker than that of an ordinary bottle of wine.) Once that was completed, there was the addition of water, whiting, and glue, not to mention the complexities of matching the right color.<\/p>\n
The science of Papa\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s trade brought him an even greater level of respect. It was well and good to share bread and music, but it was nice for Liesel to know that he was also more than capable in his occupation. Competence was attractive.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
I can vaguely remember a few mental images of the first time I visited my own dad at work. This was in Idaho when my dad was working for Micron, but all I can seem to remember are small offices, a few of them in a row, with serene and sterile colors, greys and whites and dark blues, and looking out a rain-covered window and seeing the freeway buzzing by below, thick clouds creeping past the other tall buildings of steel and concrete.<\/p>\n
When we moved to Southern California, it was a few years before my dad opened his own business in downtown Riverside, and I remember some of the restless Saturdays I would spend there, completely unable to understand what on earth my dad did. I know it had to do with microprocessors, but that\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s all I think I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d be able to tell you these days. I just remember the office, with the smelly lobby that had one of those Arrowhead five gallon dispensers and the water from the red knob never seemed to get hot enough for tea. There was a long hallway that was sometimes poorly lit if the fluorescent lights didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t come on, but the back warehouse was my favorite. I thought it was impossible to touch the ceiling in those days, and I know my brother and I used to race rolling office chairs or try to ride them like skateboards, sometimes getting adventurous and trying to explore the sections of the building we weren\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t allowed to come, sometimes doing so through the virtue of a lengthy game of hide-and-seek.<\/p>\n
This bit of The Book Thief<\/em> reminded me of those days, before the business tanked and my family slipped into poverty, and it reminded me that that was the closest I would ever come to my father, even in later years when we didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t clash and he was excited about what I was doing in life. My father gravitated towards my twin more than I, and sometimes I think it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s because my father was so traditionally masculine. He always wanted me to join the Army, play football, learn to fight, grow muscle, and do things that were physical and manly and what he was brought up to enjoy. You can see the very obvious source of conflict here, as I had to reassert my desire to play music, to read books and talk about philosophy, to do sports that were ridiculous and absurd to most students, and to never, ever, ever<\/em> talk about girls. I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t really resent my father for any of this, but as chapter fifty-three continues to show how close Liesel and Hans are, I can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t say I relate. There are so many intersecting cultural and emotional reasons why we were never close, but I didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have a father who played catch with me, or showed me his work, who read to me, who played his accordion or passed on any sort of talent my way.<\/p>\n
The champagne scene at the end of this chapter is a great example of a moment that I can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t comprehend on a personal level. Liesel\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s first time trying champagne, with her father\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s permission, is a brief moment of love and joy on Hans\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s part, another secret that they can share between the two of them, but I have to remember that this is not the case for me. My father and I shared no secrets between us.<\/p>\n
In the basement, when she wrote about her life, Liesel vowed that she would never drink champagne again, for it would never taste as good as it did on that warm afternoon in July.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m glad that Liesel cherishes this memory; knowing that there have<\/em> to be hard times ahead of her, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m hoping that all of these positive experiences that Death shares with us are a source of comfort for her, as these things sometimes are. Some days, all I have<\/em> to rely on our those positive thoughts and experiences that ring true and joyous.<\/p>\n
If only she could be so oblivious again, to feel such love without knowing it, mistaking it for laughter and bread with only the scent of jam spread out on top of it.<\/p>\n
It was the best time of her life.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
Which means\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6.<\/p>\n
Bold and bright, a trilogy of happiness would continue for summer\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s duration and into autumn. It would then be brought abruptly to an end, for the brightness had shown suffering the way.<\/p>\n
Hard times were coming.<\/p>\n
Like a parade.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
Let\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s talk about that trilogy, shall we?<\/p>\n
CH. 54: THE TRILOGY<\/strong><\/p>\n
Again, I can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t stress how much I enjoy that this book spends time with other characters. I love it. Even if some of the snippets are short and brief, I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t think I expected Zusak to shift away from Liesel Meminger, but even the narrator is important enough to get his own parts.<\/p>\n
Before chapter fifty-four, I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t think I was able to articulate this creeping thought I had regarding Rudy Steiner\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s very subtle change in attitude over the last hundred pages or so. I tried to find a way to bring it up the last time we focused on him, but I thought I was reading way too much into these pages. Well, I read too much into EVERY<\/em> page by design, but when I start thinking MARK YOU\u00e2\u20ac\u2122VE GONE TOO FAR, it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s probably a good idea to stop.<\/p>\n
But now it seems much more obvious: Rudy Steiner is starting to get more serious<\/em>. And that doesn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t mean he can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t be lovingly insulting or silly, as being serious doesn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t mutually exclude any of his other traits. There\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s just not much of the younger Rudy we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve seen over the course of this book right here in chapter fifty-four. Well\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6ok there is <\/em>some of that here, as the way he proceeds to make an attempt to meet his goal of winning four medals at the Hitler Youth carnival is very<\/em> Rudy Steiner, completely reckless and absurd and if anyone could do it, it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s Rudy.<\/p>\n
Initially, I believed the title to be a reference to the trilogy of medals that Rudy wins, but we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll soon see that\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not the case. I want to focus on Rudy for now, because here\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s something I do<\/em> relate with, completely and wholly. Of all the sports I chose to do in junior high and high school, I stuck with running. Anything that involved running, and for a long time, I was into, with the exception of just one semester of soccer, where I was bullied off the team. NO SAD STORIES HERE, THOUGH. So I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m skipping this to talk about how running just clicked<\/em> for me. Maybe the bullying contributed to that, though. And literally, until this exact moment of me writing this review, I had never considered that. Maybe because I was so used to the physical and mental pain that came from being abused and bullied, I could run very far distances quite fast because that<\/em> pain was nothing. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d experienced far worse than that in my life.<\/p>\n
Yes, I like that. I rather like it a lot.<\/p>\n
That newly formed theory aside, long distance running is as much (and probably more) a mental sport as a physical one, though, like Rudy, I spent many a cloudless, baking afternoon training for a races so far in the future that the tasks set before me by my coach seemed obscene enough. I have to run six<\/em> miles? But the race is only three! How am I ever going to run six<\/em>?<\/p>\n
But it was just something that, even to this day, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m naturally good at. I like the sensation of being able to zone out and focus on little missions, like sprinting from one stop light to the next. What I do miss is competing. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve talked about racing in the past, and I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m going to try my best to avoid repeating myself here, but I just wanted to elaborate on why Rudy\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s scenes at the carnival resonated so strongly.<\/p>\n
For being a rather clumsy person, it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s still a miracle that I never killed myself running. I was always a solid racer who, every so often, got a burst of luck and talent that allowed me to win. But I remember setting goals like Rudy in those days: Today, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m going to place in the top 25. That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s it. That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s just what I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m going to do. And you get this determination in your head where you actually convince yourself that it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s been done<\/em> already, and you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re just going to relive your victory when the race actually arrives.<\/p>\n
Reading through Rudy\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s races was a real joy. It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s nice to be able to read something and think, HEY I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT THAT IS LIKE.<\/p>\n
He would not smile until he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d won all four.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
THIS IS WHAT I WAS LIKE DURING TRACK AND FIELD<\/strong>. Traditionally, I would run the 800, the 1600, and the 3200. All in one single meet<\/em>. I had a ridiculous amount of endurance in those days and I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m happy that I still have a lot of it. But yeah, during track meets? You did not fuck with me until the day was done.<\/em> No joy, no jokes, no jovial joshing, NOTHING AT ALL. If I won a race or placed well for the team, there was a brief congrats from the coach and my teammates and then DRINK WATER, STRETCH, WATER, WATER, ELECTROLYTES, A SNACK, STRETCH, WARM UP, STRETCH and do it all over again. My walkman was my best friend those days.<\/p>\n
I want to jump until after the carnival is over, after we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve learned that Rudy didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t win four medals as he planned, having been disqualified during the final one.<\/p>\n
Before they proceeded to their respective homes, Rudy\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s voice reached over and handed Liesel the truth. For a while, it sat on her shoulder, but a few thoughts later, it made its way to her ear.<\/p>\n
* * * RUDY\u00e2\u20ac\u2122S VOICE * * *
\n\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I did it on purpose.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/strong><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n
Like Liesel, the statement confused the hell out of me, but unlike her, it took me just a second or two to completely understand it. All of her guesses as to why Rudy did this\u00e2\u20ac\u201dthree medals was enough, he was afraid to lose, he wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t Jesse Owens\u00e2\u20ac\u201dcould very well be right. It doesn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t matter, though. I know that I lost races on purpose plenty of times. Sometimes I didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t want to experience the win. Sometimes giving up just felt right. Sometimes my heart wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t in it. Any way you look at it, though, it was my decision and it became my secret, something no one would ever know. (Well, I guess I just told you all some of them now. OOPS.)<\/p>\n
We switch away from Rudy to the second part of the trilogy of joy, focusing on Liesel, as she finishes the book she stole from the mayor\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s mansion and sets off on her own to acquire another book from that house. The process has become so normalized for Liesel that Zusak doesn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t even waste time explaining how Liesel gets in the house, and she ends up choosing a book solely based on the color of the binding. (Green. Good choice.)<\/p>\n
Without Rudy, she felt a good degree of absence, but on that particular morning, for some reason, the book thief was happiest alone. She went about her work and read the book next to the Amper River, far enough away from the occasional headquarters of Viktor Chemmel and the previous gang of Arthur Berg. No one, came, no one interrupted, and Liesel read four of the very short chapters of A Song In The Dark<\/em>, and she was happy.<\/p>\n
It was pleasure and satisfaction.<\/p>\n
Of good stealing.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
Obviously, this is all a set up for the destruction to come, but I read another subtext here: the book thief is happiest alone and she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s going<\/em> to be alone soon. It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s a portrait of Liesel without Rudy. But is she going to ever be this<\/em> happy without him?<\/p>\n
I imagine we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll find out soon, but let\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s just appreciate the final piece of the trilogy that summer, something completely unexpected and\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6well, you know!<\/p>\n
Near the end of August, Rudy frantically bikes up to Liesel and tells her that she needs<\/em> to come with him to see something. They ride up to Grande Strasse, to the mayor\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s mansion, and what they see there is a clear sign that their thievery has not gone unnoticed.<\/p>\n
Through the prickly branches, Liesel noticed the closed winow, and then the object leaning on the glass.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Is that\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Rudy nodded.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
Far up in the window of the library, leaning against the closed glass, is a book. It has to be a message or a trap, they surmise, and I love that Liesel can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t resist going to get it, trap or not. When she gets close enough, she sees that it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s a dictionary\/thesaurus, which doesn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t stop her from continuing her quest, so she slides the window up and grabs the book, making a quick escape with Rudy. But they don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t get far when Liesel gets that familiar sensation that she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s being watched. She stops riding and turns around:<\/p>\n
Certainly, she should have known this might happen, but she could not hide the shock that loitered inside when she witnessed the mayor\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s wife, standing behind the glass. She was transparent, but she was there. Her fluffy hair was as it always was, and her wounded eyes and mouth and expression held themselves up, for viewing.<\/p>\n
Very slowly, she lifted her hand to the book thief on the street. A motionless wave.<\/p>\n
In her state of shock, Liesel said nothing, to Rudy or herself. She only steadied herself and raised her hand to acknowledge the mayor\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s wife, in the window.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
HOLY. SHIT. THE MAYOR\u00e2\u20ac\u2122S WIFE KNEW ALL ALONG! Of course<\/em> she did. Their acts of theft always came off so flawlessly. How could that have been possible, time and time again? Ugh, this is kind of breaking my heart?<\/p>\n
Wait, no, it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not. Because the letter\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6.THE FUCKING LETTER<\/em>. I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t need to transcribe it for you, but it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s so emotionally important to Liesel and this whole goddamn story. The mayor\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s wife is WARMING MY ICY, BLACK HEART.<\/p>\n
The most important part of that letter, by the way, is Frau Hermann\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s insistence that one day, Liesel come knock on the door to enter the library, not to enter it as a thief, though she makes no claim that she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll stop her from doing that either. Immediately inspired by how touching this is, Liesel travels back to 8 Grande Strasse, alone, but is suddenly frozen with a strange fear, unable to knock.<\/p>\n
Again, her brother found her.<\/p>\n
From the bottom of the steps, his knee healing nicely, he said, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Come on, Liesel, knock.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
I wish I had kept track of where Liesel\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s brother shows up for her. I know he did when she told off the mayor\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s wife, but maybe there\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s a pattern to why he chooses to appear in her head like this. Before, it was to make her stop, but now, it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s to convince her to continue on. She doesn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t, though, choosing instead to make her \u00e2\u20ac\u0153second getaway\u00e2\u20ac\u009d with Rudy. As Death describes, part of what she feels is guilt, mostly for not following through on Frau Hermann\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s request. But there\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s something working inside her, much deeper than this, that makes her think that she was somehow right not to knock.<\/p>\n
You don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t deserve to be this happy, Liesel. You really don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t.<\/p>\n
Can a person steal happiness? Or is it just another internal, infernal human trick?<\/p>\n
Liesel shrugged away from her thoughts. She crossed the bridge and told Rudy to hurry up and not to forget the book.<\/p>\n
They rode home on rusty bikes.<\/p>\n
They rode home a couple of miles, from summer to autumn, and from a quiet night to the noisy breath of the bombing of Munich.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
There are no good days left, are there?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
In the fifty-third and fifty-fourth chapters of The Book Thief, Zusak spends time showing us just how happy Liesel Meminger and Rudy Steiner can be in the great war, ostensibly because he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s about to rip it all away any second … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[43],"tags":[23,46,45,44],"class_list":["post-306","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-the-book-thief","tag-mark-reads","tag-mark-reads-the-book-thief","tag-markus-zusak","tag-the-book-thief-2"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/markreads.net\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/306","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/markreads.net\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/markreads.net\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/markreads.net\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/markreads.net\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=306"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/markreads.net\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/306\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/markreads.net\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=306"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/markreads.net\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=306"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/markreads.net\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=306"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}