La Petite Américaine's Reviews > The Book Thief
The Book Thief
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by

La Petite Américaine's review
bookshelves: worst-garbage-i-ve-ever-read, sucked, i-want-my-money-back, rants
Jul 24, 2008
bookshelves: worst-garbage-i-ve-ever-read, sucked, i-want-my-money-back, rants
** spoiler alert **
UPDATE: AUG 26, 2016: This review has been here 8 years, has 18 pages of 854 comments and 764 likes. There's no outrage for you to add in the comments section that hasn't already been addressed.
If you want to talk about the book, or why you liked it, or anything else, feel free.
UPDATE: FEB 17, 2014: I wrote this review 4 years ago on a foreign keyboad, so I'm well aware that I spelled Chekhov's name wrong. I'm not going to fix it, so please don't drive my review further up in the rankings by commenting on the misspelling. You're very dear, but I know his name is Anton and not Antonin. On that same note, you don't need to add comments telling me that I didn't like the book because I "don't know how to read" and "don't understand metaphors." I actually have an M.A. in in English Lit, so I do know how to read -- much better than you do, in fact. Now quit bothering me before I go get my PhD and then really turn into a credential-touting ass.
UPDATE: JULY 10, 2013: To all jr. high students who find themselves grossly offended by my review: please remember that every time you leave a comment here, you push my review up even higher in the rankings. Please save us both time and energy by not commenting. Thnx.
This was the biggest piece of garbage I've ever read after The Kite Runner. Just as with The Kite Runner, I'm (somewhat) shocked that this book is a bestseller and has been given awards, chewed up and swallowed by the literary masses and regarded as greatness. Riiiight.
The whole thing can be summed up as the story of a girl who sometimes steals books coming of age during the Holocaust. Throw in the snarky narration by Death (nifty trick except that it doesn't work), a few half-assed drawings of birdies and swastikas, senseless and often laughable prose that sounds like it was pulled from the "poetry" journal of a self-important 15 year-old, and a cast of characters that throughout are like watching cardboard cutouts walking around VERY SLOWLY, and that's the novel.
Here are some humble observations.
First, chances are that you, Mr. Zusak, are not Antonin Chekhov. You are, therefore, incapable of properly describing the weather for use as a literary device, and you end up sounding like an asshole. Don't believe me?
"I like a chocolate-colored sky. Dark, dark chocolate." Really? Do you, now?
"The sky was dripping. Like a tap that a child has tried it’s hardest to turn off but hasn’t quite managed.” Really?? Wow. Next you'll tell me that the rain was like a shower. I'm moved.
"Oh, how the clouds stumbled in and assembled stupidly in the sky. Great obese clouds." Yes. Stupid, obese clouds! They need an education and a healthy diet!
Next, chances are that you, Mr. Zusak, are not William Styron or any one of the other small handful of authors that can get away with Holocaust fiction. They've done their research, had some inkling of writing ability, and were able to tell fascinating stories. You invented a fake town in Germany (probably so you didn't have to do any research) and told a long-winded and poorly-written story, and in 500+ pages you couldn't even make it to 1945, so you sloppily dropped off and wrapped it up in 1943. What's the point of writing historical fiction if you can't even stay within the basic confines of that hisotrical event? For me, this does nothing more than trivialize the mass murder of over 6 million people. Maybe that's why a 30 year-old Australian shouldn't write about the Holocaust. But that's just me. Moving on.
But what really makes this book expensive toilet paper is the bad writing which is to be found not just in bizarre descriptions of the weather, but really on every page. Some personal favorites?
"The breakfast colored sun."
"Somewhere inside her were the souls of words."
"The oldened young man." WTF?!!?
"He crawled to a disfigured figure."
"Her words were motionless."
"It smelled like friendship." (Remind me to sniff my friends next time I see them.)
"A multitude of words and sentences were at her fingertips." (HUH?)
"Pinecones littered the ground like cookies."
Sigh.
All of this is quite funny coming from a book where the main character supposedly learns the importance of words. Further, I love that the protagonist comes to the conclusion that Hitler "would be nothing without words." Really? REALLY? Would Hitler be nothing without WORDS? What about self-loathing, misplaced blame and hatred, an ideology, xenophobia, charisma, an army, and a pride-injured nation willing to listen? Don't those count for something??
The shit-storm comes to an end when a bomb lands on our fictional town, wiping out everyone save for the sometimes book-thief main character. Of course. Because weak writers who don't know how to end their story just kill everyone off for a clean break and some nice emotional manipulation. Written for maximum tear-jerking effect, our main character spews out some great lines when she sees the death and destruction around her:
To her dead mother, "God damn it, you were so beautiful."
To her dead best friend as she shakes him, "Wake up! I love you! Wake up!" (Didn't I see the same thing in that movie My Girl?)
Then she profoundly notes that her dead father "...was a man with silver eyes, not dead ones."
And this kind of angsty adolescent prose just never ended! It went on and on to form the one long-ass, senseless, disjointed story.
But that's ok. Take it all the junk, give it a quirky narrator, an obscure and mysterious title, throw in a Jew on the run from Nazis who likes to draw silly pictures of birds and swastikas, and market it all as Holocaust lit. Ahh, the packaging of bullshit makes for such a sweet best seller.
Swallow it down, America. Put it on the shelf next to The Kite Runner. You love this. You live for this.
SUCKED.
If you want to talk about the book, or why you liked it, or anything else, feel free.
UPDATE: FEB 17, 2014: I wrote this review 4 years ago on a foreign keyboad, so I'm well aware that I spelled Chekhov's name wrong. I'm not going to fix it, so please don't drive my review further up in the rankings by commenting on the misspelling. You're very dear, but I know his name is Anton and not Antonin. On that same note, you don't need to add comments telling me that I didn't like the book because I "don't know how to read" and "don't understand metaphors." I actually have an M.A. in in English Lit, so I do know how to read -- much better than you do, in fact. Now quit bothering me before I go get my PhD and then really turn into a credential-touting ass.
UPDATE: JULY 10, 2013: To all jr. high students who find themselves grossly offended by my review: please remember that every time you leave a comment here, you push my review up even higher in the rankings. Please save us both time and energy by not commenting. Thnx.
This was the biggest piece of garbage I've ever read after The Kite Runner. Just as with The Kite Runner, I'm (somewhat) shocked that this book is a bestseller and has been given awards, chewed up and swallowed by the literary masses and regarded as greatness. Riiiight.
The whole thing can be summed up as the story of a girl who sometimes steals books coming of age during the Holocaust. Throw in the snarky narration by Death (nifty trick except that it doesn't work), a few half-assed drawings of birdies and swastikas, senseless and often laughable prose that sounds like it was pulled from the "poetry" journal of a self-important 15 year-old, and a cast of characters that throughout are like watching cardboard cutouts walking around VERY SLOWLY, and that's the novel.
Here are some humble observations.
First, chances are that you, Mr. Zusak, are not Antonin Chekhov. You are, therefore, incapable of properly describing the weather for use as a literary device, and you end up sounding like an asshole. Don't believe me?
"I like a chocolate-colored sky. Dark, dark chocolate." Really? Do you, now?
"The sky was dripping. Like a tap that a child has tried it’s hardest to turn off but hasn’t quite managed.” Really?? Wow. Next you'll tell me that the rain was like a shower. I'm moved.
"Oh, how the clouds stumbled in and assembled stupidly in the sky. Great obese clouds." Yes. Stupid, obese clouds! They need an education and a healthy diet!
Next, chances are that you, Mr. Zusak, are not William Styron or any one of the other small handful of authors that can get away with Holocaust fiction. They've done their research, had some inkling of writing ability, and were able to tell fascinating stories. You invented a fake town in Germany (probably so you didn't have to do any research) and told a long-winded and poorly-written story, and in 500+ pages you couldn't even make it to 1945, so you sloppily dropped off and wrapped it up in 1943. What's the point of writing historical fiction if you can't even stay within the basic confines of that hisotrical event? For me, this does nothing more than trivialize the mass murder of over 6 million people. Maybe that's why a 30 year-old Australian shouldn't write about the Holocaust. But that's just me. Moving on.
But what really makes this book expensive toilet paper is the bad writing which is to be found not just in bizarre descriptions of the weather, but really on every page. Some personal favorites?
"The breakfast colored sun."
"Somewhere inside her were the souls of words."
"The oldened young man." WTF?!!?
"He crawled to a disfigured figure."
"Her words were motionless."
"It smelled like friendship." (Remind me to sniff my friends next time I see them.)
"A multitude of words and sentences were at her fingertips." (HUH?)
"Pinecones littered the ground like cookies."
Sigh.
All of this is quite funny coming from a book where the main character supposedly learns the importance of words. Further, I love that the protagonist comes to the conclusion that Hitler "would be nothing without words." Really? REALLY? Would Hitler be nothing without WORDS? What about self-loathing, misplaced blame and hatred, an ideology, xenophobia, charisma, an army, and a pride-injured nation willing to listen? Don't those count for something??
The shit-storm comes to an end when a bomb lands on our fictional town, wiping out everyone save for the sometimes book-thief main character. Of course. Because weak writers who don't know how to end their story just kill everyone off for a clean break and some nice emotional manipulation. Written for maximum tear-jerking effect, our main character spews out some great lines when she sees the death and destruction around her:
To her dead mother, "God damn it, you were so beautiful."
To her dead best friend as she shakes him, "Wake up! I love you! Wake up!" (Didn't I see the same thing in that movie My Girl?)
Then she profoundly notes that her dead father "...was a man with silver eyes, not dead ones."
And this kind of angsty adolescent prose just never ended! It went on and on to form the one long-ass, senseless, disjointed story.
But that's ok. Take it all the junk, give it a quirky narrator, an obscure and mysterious title, throw in a Jew on the run from Nazis who likes to draw silly pictures of birds and swastikas, and market it all as Holocaust lit. Ahh, the packaging of bullshit makes for such a sweet best seller.
Swallow it down, America. Put it on the shelf next to The Kite Runner. You love this. You live for this.
SUCKED.
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Reading Progress
July 24, 2008
– Shelved
May 11, 2010
–
Started Reading
May 12, 2010
– Shelved as:
worst-garbage-i-ve-ever-read
May 12, 2010
– Shelved as:
sucked
May 12, 2010
– Shelved as:
i-want-my-money-back
May 12, 2010
–
Finished Reading
March 21, 2012
– Shelved as:
rants
Comments Showing 201-250 of 1,263 (1263 new)


I didn't like the book because I thought the writing was crap. Or is that somehow not clear in my review?

Oh, you see, now this is precious. Because this is precisely how academics, literature lovers, English majors, PhDs, and literary critics read. We don't read to "lose ourselves" in a text -- we read to think, to discuss, and to "line up" merits and flaws in a novel.
"The whole PURPOSE of a novel is to lose yourself in the story."
Yes, surely, this is the purpose if you're young, incapable of critical thinking and are reading the book for some sort of diversion. Glad you're doing it with novels and not video games, in any case.
"Every novel has its pitfalls, because the character's LIFE has them."
No, dear. Novels have pitfalls because the author is inept.
"Or more importantly, why did you FINISH it?"
Well, that's easy. Because I pad ten bucks for it. When it's my own money, I like to finish what I start. When you get your first job, you'll understand what I mean.

Just tell me where to sign. :-D


I don't disagree that his words were important. I do disagree that he'd be nothing without his words. I also said, "What about self-loathing, misplaced blame and hatred, an ideology, xenophobia, charisma, an army, and a pride-injured nation willing to listen. Don't those count for something?"
To say it's words alone that made up Hitler's movement = gross oversimplification.


Lots of people have words, but they lack the charisma for effective delivery. Some people also have words and a great stage presence, but they're such goddamn lunatics that no one is going to listen (e.g., Sarah Palin, Michelle Bachmann, you-fill-in-the-blank).
You need a combination of words, an ideology, charisma, energy, and a national culture (along with the that nation's army) in a mental state that's willing to listen and receive your words.
Think about George W. Bush. He sounds like a goddamn crazy man when we look back on his presidency and the things he said and did, but he was able to get away with everything by playing up his show before an audience of largely fearful and vulnerable Americans.
It's not just words. Believe me, if it was just words, a hell of a lot of great writers would be published right now who aren't.

The best way to learn *anything* about the Holocaust is to watch documentaries about the time, study the period through a historical text, and read memoirs and biographies about those who lived through it. Oh, and if you're in D.C., go to the Holocaust Museum and ask them if there was anything else backing Hitler besides his words.
Writing a novel that tells readers that the Holocaust happened because Hitler was a wordsmith (and he wasn't, by the way -- he had speechwriters) does a disservice to history and the murders of over 6 million people. The fact that Zusak did literally nothing to ensure that his novel was even somewhat historically accurate makes this book all the more useless.
"Hitler was nothing without his words" is akin to saying "This book was good because it made me cry."
Ugh. No sale.

That wasn't what Zusak said though. Look at it this way:
I am running for President, to go to examples you seem to like. I have charisma, I have intelligence, and I'm well-spoken. But without money, it doesn't matter - I will NOT become President. Period.
That doesn't mean that money is the only thing that puts me in the running for President. I'm still not going to win if I don't have SOME other draw going for me. And there are a few types of draws that can get me at least in discussion for the Presidency...charm (likeability), intelligence, and, yes, speaking ability. But without money, I can have all the Presidential qualities in the world - it's not happening.
Hitler was a great speaker, one of the best of all time really, and I think that's part of what Zusak meant by the power of words (whether he wrote his speeches or not doesn't mean he didn't know how to orate, of course). Hitler knew what to say, or his speechwriters did; either way, he could have been charismatic, he could have been xenophobic or any of those things, but if he didn't know what to say or how to say it he would have been just another crank, lost to history as a footnote.

The argument you present in your comment is exactly the same as what I'm saying -- one thing alone doesn't cut it, it's a combination of thins. And that is decidedly opposite of what Zusak says, and contrary to the entire premise of his novel.

That's world's away from "Words alone made up Hitler's movement", which he didn't say.

To say that words were the sole means of power that Hitler had (and that without words he'd be powerless) is goddamned lunacy.

To say that words were the sole means of power that Hitler had...
That's still not what he said, though. If Hitler wasn't a good speaker, if he wasn't good at manipulating people through words, it doesn't matter how xenophobic he was or how charismatic. He had to know how to give the people what they wanted to hear, in a way they wanted to hear it. Just like, to use my analogy again, if a President doesn't have money every other quality doesn't matter.
I think a source of disagreement here is that you are taking the word "nothing" very literally. I take it a little bit more figuratively. Okay, Hitler wouldn't technically be "nothing" without words, but he would be a history book footnote if he wasn't so brilliant at manipulating people by giving them what they wanted to hear the way they wanted to hear it - words.
So yeah, Hitler had other things besides words going for him. I just don't think that contradicts Zusak's point.


I thought the writing sucked, and I gave examples from the text :-)

Like with Zusak's point - all of that other stuff would MEAN nothing without Hitler's words.
I mean, yes, you could say it would also mean nothing without his xenophobia. Fine, but the focus of the book was words.

Anyway, time to focus on highway driving


I'm not reading anything too literally. The entire premise of this book is the importance of words--it's a central theme to the novel. I called bullshit on the importance of words in the way the novel said they're important, using a quote and arguing my point.
Inferring meaning without having the text to support your claims is fine--but it's not analysis, it's guesswork, conjecture, and the kind of stuff worthy of a book club.

All that this review told me is that I should steer clear of Charlotte Bronte




I also couldn't stand how often they used the word "silver" for Hans' eyes, and "lemon" or "yellow" for the color of Rudy's hair.
Otherwise, though, I thought it was pretty good. Hard to believe in some parts, but in other aspects very good.
But everyone has a different opinion :).

I did a little research and it sounded like one heck of a read and "something different", for me. After reading this review and a handful of comments after, I am not sure I will bother, now.
I have never heard of Zusack. To me, he's a new author. I love historical fiction, and I am in the process of branching out to Holocaust fiction. Is this really so terrible? I have downloaded a sample for my kindle. I think it has three chapters. I hope all it's terribleness shows up in this chapters. I don't want to pay for it, feel like I like it, and then hate it.

I did a little research and it sounded like one heck of a read and "something different", for me. After reading this review and a handful of comments after, I am not sure I will bother, now.
I have never heard of Zusack. To me, he's a new author. I love historical fiction, and I am in the process of branching out to Holocaust fiction. Is this really so terrible? I have downloaded a sample for my kindle. I think it has three chapters. I hope all it's terribleness shows up in this chapters. I don't want to pay for it, feel like I like it, and then hate it.



As much as I loved The Book Thief this review was freaking hilarious none theles!

@Raven: Can you fix your grammar / spelling / punctuation before commenting again? I really can't communicate with people who can't write proper English -- it's just too annoying.
In fact, I may have to delete your comment altogether...the butchered English is irritating me.



Still, it's well reviewed and incredibly popular. One thing I never bought though, and still don't buy, is that kids with cancer suddenly become magically wise. Yeah, right. They become terrified and confused and depressed and angry. They don't magically gain great insight and the ability to give long monologues about the meaning of life.
I don't know. It sounds like exactly the kind of book that would make me roll my eyes in disgust. And I'm perfectly willing to try reading John Green.
I don't think La Petite Américaine specifically kept a list of references so she could mark what she didn't like. My guess, though I'll let her speak, is that she probably tried to like the novel but didn't, and then wrote a review explaining why she didn't like it.
This isn't me, but I've talked to people who finish every book they start just because they want to finish what they started. Or maybe she realized she didn't like it and decided to finish it so she could write a full, instead of partial, review. Who knows? It's her prerogative.