I had my Heart Stolen by the Book Thief

“First the colours.

Then the humans.

That’s usually how I see things.

Or at least, how I try.

Here is a small fact:

You are going to die.”

I told myself that I will never again, if the story proves cleverly whimsical, watch a movie adaptation before reading the book that inspired it, yet today I broke that personal bond with myself, and it resulted rather well.

After watching a copious amount of movies, I have found that none have impacted on me so much as The Book Thief. Narrated by ‘Death’, The Book Thief tells a daunting tale about how humans are scarier than Death itself, and how instead of fearing our demise we must fear what we are capable of. It features the juxtaposition of how Hitler used words to defy his followers, to how Liesel Meminger, the thief of books herself, used the words she had learnt to care for the miniscule amount of mentally wounded nation within Germany, which would form itself in a bomb shelter each time an air raid was called.

The story had captivated me from the very moment I knew that the narrator was ‘Death’ – I have not yet witnessed any stories narrated by the sort, and this was an excitable view of a story – however, the point of view of Death was not what I had anticipated. Death was weary with his constant taking of lives, however upon finding Liesel his view of humans changed – he found colour in his taking of life, and instead of sticking to his solemn job, he began to focus on Liesel and her journey, nurturing her in his eyes.

I felt a warmth within me knowing of Rudy Steiner’s love for Liesel. It felt so real and true, that love may occur at first glance and may last until the final glance. I admire how realistic the depiction of loss in the film is too, how it ends rather smoothly without exaggerating lives, and with abiding by the one underlining term which circulates around our lives here, that the fact is that we will all die, we just have to be sure that we live a little before it happens. And in her moments of living, Liesel showed Death that life is full of colour, despite how bland her surroundings were.

And that is what hit me – life is full of colour. We see Death progress from focusing on his uncoloured lifestyle, and how he became to know that colour is warm on his very soul. And it occurred to me, that most of us have not yet seen the colour in our predominantly uncoloured lives – that is because we mostly focus on the lack of colour alone, while colour stands there tapping at our souls’ windows, beckoning us to realize its existence, that it has always been there and wants to be noticed.

We all focus on what we want, what we want to work for, and what we will get in working for what we want, when none of us focus on what we actually have. In fact, in most cases, the things that people have turn out to be what people truly need. The Book Thief has taught me that – that in wanting to read the book before watching the movie, while I have had the movie waiting for me, I have learnt that I could just watch the movie first then read the book – there is no constitutional law against doing so, and my dignity is not in any way harmed. I am still me, and I am at no loss, in fact I am at a gain – I have gained a deeper interest in wanting to read the book.

In all seriousness though, what I am trying to say is do not look for something not waiting to be found. Surround yourself by what you currently have, and focus more on the colourful things in your life. I am an aspiring novelist, but I am nowhere near forming a great idea that can be written. That does not mean I am looking at the colourless side of this, I am looking at the colourful side, in that I have several ideas plotted down and at different stages I add to them, who knows, perhaps one day I will have an idea so grand it will be ready to grow bigger.

I thank you, Markus Zusak, for restoring the colour in my life, and helping me approach the reality of things in a more realistic manner. I look forward to acquainting myself with the textual character of Liesel Meminger, the book thief who stole my heart.