What Does Death Have to Say?

    

        Inhuman, cold-hearted, and sinister are words that come to mind when I think of death. Perhaps because our representation of death, the Grim Reaper, wears a dark cloak and carries a scythe not intended for cutting wheat. Not only does his scythe remind you to keep your distance, but his hooded robe also adds an air of mystery because it is quite difficult to tell what he is thinking. Well, that is, until you read The Book Thief. The complex story, written by Markus Zusack, is narrated by none other than Death himself. Through his eyes, we see the main character Liesel adjusting to a new life with her foster family during WWII in Nazi Germany. At 10 years old, she cannot read but desperately wants to, so she works hard with her foster father to learn how. Her hunger for reading draws her to seek out any book she can find, even if it means stealing. Thus the name The Book Thief is given to her by her friend Rudy Steiner, a neighborhood boy her age. Liesel’s foster family is soon faced with a life-threatening situation when they take in a Jewish man, Max, in need of refuge. 

 Death is often portrayed as vengeful, but Zusack gives Death a sense of humor, compassion, and other humanlike characteristics. For example, Max suddenly becomes quite ill, yet Death wasn’t excited to take his soul or was hopeful that he would join him. Written as a “Late Night Excerpt,” Death recalls, “It must have been one of the few moments when the girl was not there with him, for all I saw was a man in bed. I knelt. I readied myself to insert my hands through the blankets. Then there was a resurgence--an immense struggle against my weight. I withdrew, and with so much work ahead of me, it was nice to be fought off in that dark little room. I even managed a short, closed-eyed pause of serenity before I made my way out” (Zusack 317-318). Although many times death is something that people fear, I never thought of Death also being reluctant towards our demise, but that’s what makes him seem more human. His hesitance is almost more comforting because it’s no longer like he is waiting for us. Being in the hands of someone who is more like us lets the possibility of dying become less intimidating.

Death’s descriptions of what it’s like to pick up the fallen souls is both beautiful and filled with sorrow. As he tells of the time he was in a German prison where a group of French Jews were being held, he says, “Please believe me when I tell you that I picked up each soul that day as if it were newly born. I even kissed a few weary, poisoned cheeks. I listened to their last, gasping cries. Their vanishing words. I watched their love visions and freed them from their fear...They were French, they were Jews, and they were you” (350). Not only are these prisoners Jewish, but they are French, they are men and women: they are people. We continue to create divisions and differences amongst ourselves even though we will all meet the same fate, and yet we let those separations cause our own peril. However, while it is us who creates those differences, it is also up to how we interpret them. Liesel, who has recurring nightmares of the death of her younger brother, learns that Max also has traumatizing nightmares. One night, when she hears that Max is especially restless, she asks him what he dreams about, leading to the “swapping of nightmares” (220). Although they are girl and man, young and old, German and Jewish, they’re comforted to learn they are not alone, and a wonderful friendship grows. If everyone’s ultimate destination is death, then our differences shouldn’t have to set us apart.

Not only is death a part of us, but we also have a part in death. We are offered a description of Death’s appearance: “I do not carry a sickle or scythe. I only wear a hooded black robe when it’s cold. And I don’t have those skull-like facial features you seem to enjoy pinning on me from a distance. You want to know what I truly look like? I’ll help you out. Find yourself a mirror while I continue” (307). It’s not about who cleans up the mess, but who causes it, and the answer is us. While black robes and scythes are out of style, our actions make up for it. Death is not hunting for people to take with him. Instead, we are creating more reasons for us to join him. When speaking of the war taking place in the novel, Death says that he rejects the saying, “war is death’s best friend.” He says that war is like a controlling leader who calls on him like a servant, with impossible standards and no thank-you’s in return (309). I agree with him because it doesn’t seem that death and war work together, rather, death happens to be the result of the wars invoked by us. 

There is much more to unpack in this novel: Liesel’s journey as a reader, her friendship with Max, and more, but unfortunately there is no time. I haven’t finished all of it yet, but I’m excited to see what’s next, and I hope you give it a try.

--Grace