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This is a very good book about the power of words. It is narrated by a garrulous Death, a vital bit of irreverence which goes a long way to render tolerable living deep in the breast of Nazi Germany from 1936-1943. For example, Zusak starts us right off on p. 3 (in a chapter deliciously titled, "Death and Chocolate") with the following: "I most definitely can be cheerful. I can be amiable. Agreeable. Affable. And that's only the A's." Assuredly altogether awesome... ask anybody.

Our protagonist is an adopted girl whose foster parents support her personal struggle to overcome illiteracy and nurture her growing heart of gold. Pitting her and their (and Death’s) compassion against the pitiless, oppressive backdrop of the Nazi hate machine in a poor district of suburban Munich allows Zusak to paint a more nuanced picture than typically experienced in nonacademic WWII/Holocaust literature. Especially considering the historical context, nuance lends itself to verisimilitude, both of which combine to enhance the resonance of the work.

There’s goodness here but no distancing superheroics. A family hides a Jew� but only until they come under suspicion. As consistently foreshadowed, kids may covertly lay out breadcrumbs in the hopes of providing brief succor to a starving line of Jews being marched to Dachau, but none would ever dare so much as to throw a dirty glance at the whip-wielding SS driving these hapless people to their doom. Throughout the novel, the author’s substitution of lyricism for hyperbole gives the work greater impact as well as refreshing novelty.

Zusak depicts Liesel's struggle for personal expression as an act of rebellion against the Nazis, who so effectively used language in conjunction with brutality to foster widespread submission to fear, hatred, and paranoia. Nor is he above using his mythical narrator for commentary. So at page 164, Liesel and her friend Rudy are feeling a wee bit of remorse for deliberately icing the path of a bicycling bakery boy, an act that offers Zusak an excuse for a profound play on words.

"He just hit the ground so hard."

"Don't remind me." But Rudy Steiner couldn't resist smiling. In years to come, he would be a giver of bread, not a stealer -- proof again of the contradictory human being. So much good, so much evil. Just add water.

Credit where credit is due: this book's a pretty potent cocktail. I love the metaphoric equating of possession of language -- literally, in tangible form, and figuratively, through mastery of reading, speech, and writing -- with power. It is the one thing that Death itself cannot overcome.