The Book Thief by Markus Zusak left me with a knot in my tummy before I’d even read the prologue and has moved me, possibly, more than any book I’ve read before. I couldn’t turn the pages fast enough, yet at the same time I couldn’t bear the though of ever finishing it, and to say that it’s sad is such an understatement. This book is so sad it made my hands hurt, and so beautiful that I am afraid to ever read it again. This is not a book to read if you like happy endings. It is a book to read if you like to read and if you like books and if you like to devour words like they’re jelly beans and if you like to have your heart broken and then carefully pieced back together in the space of just a couple of pages. It’s a book to read if you want to be struck at the very core of your being. It’s a book to read if you love. Just thinking about it now in order to write this tiny review has left me feeling in need of a hug. It’s a book to read if you want your life to be changed forever.
Excuse me now, whilst I go and cry quietly for a while.
