Today, Sunday the 10th July, around 1:55 AM, I had finished the most beautiful book I’ve ever read. A book, though breathtakingly beautiful, it showed mankind at its worst and its best. How? I have no words that could tell you. Maybe the words were there, but they weren’t enough, no amount of them could ever be.
I couldn’t find one word that could that could describe the way this book made me feel as I burned through its pages full of life and death and as I read every single word it held so dearly.
Words, words, words. It was also the story of Liesel’s love affair with words and yet the words themselves could not do her story any justice. I’m sure, sure as Death, sure that even from the moment I read the first words that I was then a lifelong fan of Marcus Zusak. Making Death the narrator was truly original, very unusual indeed. He gave Death a personality, a personality that was interesting and that had drawn my attention and approval from the very start. Deaths was kind, had a sense of humour and believe it or not, he had a heart.
Now I attempt to share and describe my thoughts and my feelings. It was like riding some sort of emotional rollercoaster that had begun slowly and gradually gained momentum. Happiness had been constant after the cloudy days, but that didn’t mean that sadness and despair wouldn’t catch up. They did. Oh, yes they certainly did.
