A Nod To Our Literary Loves by Taylor Mullen
Ah, young love. Not the kind that leaves you flustered, fretting over your outfit. I’m talking about books. The ones that strike you as genius, in a, “I can’t believe someone, alive or dead, wrote this,” kind of way. You forgo sleep and work to finish them. Once you do, you can’t shut up about them. You annoy your family and friends with your endless praise. And if you’re a writer like me, you cling to those books that inspired you. That not only taught you what good writing looks like, but what it could elicit.
The first book I remember being entranced by was historical fiction. My father was a teacher at a high school, and one day he brought home a few boxes of books. In one of these boxes was the chalk-white title, with a dark front cover of falling dominoes. In Marcus Zusak’s The Book Thief, the narrator is Death. Death sees the world the way we do; in bright, flashing colors. In the prologue, he remarks, “You see, to me, for just a moment, despite all of the colors that touch and grapple with what I see in the world, I will often catch an eclipse when a human dies” (Zusak, 11). The narrator, despite his grim reputation, shows compassion and awe for his victims. His job is tough, like ours, and his boss (war) is tough on him.
While I adored this complex characterization of a common fear, what most intrigued me was the main character. Liesel Meminger, a young German girl who lives with a foster family, steals books. She saves The Shoulder Shrug from a burning pile, in honor of the Führer’s birthday. She takes The Whistler from a wealthy neighbor’s library. Liesel’s first steal, though, is The Grave-Digger’s Handbook. The title alone indicates that some sort of tragedy had to occur, for her to be able to access it. The rest signify parts of her character arc. The Shoulder Shrug represents Liesel realizing the cruelty of Hitler. The Whistler represents her earning the nickname ‘book thief,’ and the first time she steals out of spite.
It was easy, as an enraptured reader, to self-insert myself into Liesel’s life. Books were her only solace. They were her escape from the troubling times in which she lived. Similarly, novels have always “rescued” me from moments of confusion or pain. The Book Thief, however, is not an escapist story. It is about living in the moment, even when the world is falling apart around you. Another character, named Max Vanderburg, is a Jewish fugitive and former fist-fighter. He is the opposite of Liesel, in that he prefers to act instead of think. However, he’s also saved by literature. When he’s being hidden by Liesel’s family, they bond. The German and Jew share books, and talk about their trauma. As a parting gift, Max leaves her The Word Shaker.
Over the years, what has stuck with me about the novel is this plot point. The Word Shaker is a novel illustrated and written by Max. It is the strange tale of the best ‘word shaker’ in the land. She sits in a word tree, created by a tear which turns into a ‘seed of friendship.’ She protects the tree from the Führer. Max shows up as an axman, who instead of cutting down the tree, climbs it. She realizes that this axeman is the one who prompted the tear. I found this story within a story to be poetic. It was the clearest example of how words, even ugly ones, have power. How words could reshape and redefine us as artists, and as people.
In my own reading career, I have encountered more novels than I can count. I’ve liked, loved, and loathed them equally. I’ve even gone on to write my own stories. The Book Thief ends with the line, “I am haunted by humans” (Zusak, 550). Every time I read those words, it hits just the same. And much like Liesel, I hope I have made my words right. As far as first loves go, this one is a classic. For as long as I live to see colors before faces, I won’t out-grow it.
Works Cited: Zusak, M. (2006). The Book Thief. Knopf Books for Young Readers.
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