A Fearfully Beautiful Voice


I just finished The Book Thief.

Having read a handful of ordinary readers’ critiques, I am compelled to reject every one of them that in some way denies the greatness of this voice.

Oh, the voice. It is the voice I have not heard since Vonnegut and Slaughterhouse Five. immensely grave, with a hefty amount of sardonic wisdom that falls like jewels through the night. It is the voice of sheer originality – the fearlessness of nonconformity.  This is no book of wonder and awe. This is a simple story that, in the end, sheds light on the human condition – love, hate, war, peace, crime, punishment, loyalty, and fear.

The story of Liesel, her Papa and Mama, Max, Rudy, and all the incidental characters is simple, yet spellbinding. The human condition is explored in a thousand different ways. The depth and breadth of the human soul is exposed – carefully, so that only those with silver eyes can see it.

I think I am a better person for reading this story. Certainly, it is my intention to be so, before the narrator comes to scoop me into his arms. The great equalizer suffers too.

My rating:

I will return to this book over and over again, and each time, I will see a different sight.

I will buy 10 copies, just in case it ever goes out of print.

As far as my rating scale goes – 10 hearts – my highest rating. Not because I loved the book (which I surely did), but because it touched my heart in a way that very few books can.


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