What's Elizabeth Reading? ...Markus Zusak

It's Spring Break this week, and I'm reading Markus Zusak's The Book Thief.  I really don't know what to think of that correlation.

I started it today and am a little over 20 pages in.  It isn't what I expected, but then, I didn't have many expectations.  I knew it was about the Holocaust; I hadn't thought it would be from Death's point of view of a German girl's experience.  So far, the story is beautiful.  It is written simply, yet profoundly.  I love that Death talks about colors.  Not only is Death receiving a personality, but Death is fascinated by color.  I feel like humans associate color with life, emotions, and preferences.  It was unexpected, but color's inclusion in the narrative is wonderful.  I don't know that people think about the colors of the Holocaust.  Even in movies, the colors are muted when the Holocaust is being portrayed (in my experience, anyway).

This book hits home on another level for me, though.  My great-grandparents grew up in Germany and my great-grandpa, whom we call Opa, served in the army during WWII.  He quickly became a POW in France.  Some people may be offended that I take pride in this, but I do.  I am proud that even though Opa did not want to serve in the army, he supported his nation.  On top of that, I don't think it would have gone over well for him to tell the Nazi's that no, he didn't want to help, but thanks anyway.  He did not want to serve, but he did.  That is what I take pride in.

His wife, whom my family calls Oma, wrote Opa letters throughout the war.  She didn't know where he was or if he was even still alive, and she never got letters from him.  I can't remember whether or not Opa received her letters.  Oma and Opa lived with their two young daughters in Nürnberg, where their ancestors had lived for generations.  Wanda was the elder daughter and my grandma, Brigitte, was the younger.  Oma and Opa were in their 30s during the war.  While Opa was imprisoned in France, Oma was serving in the LDS Church as a Relief Society president.  The Relief Society, which is still around today and of which I am a member, is meant to do what its name says: provide relief, whether that be physical, emotional, spiritual, mental, or in any other way necessary.  The Society is divided into groups based on geography, and Oma was in charge of the group whose members lived in and around Nürnberg.

Nürnberg was heavily bombed during the war, and Wanda was sent to live away from Oma and Brigitte out of concern for her safety.  I suppose that my grandma was too young to be sent away from her mother.  The family had been saving up money so they could move to America, but when the war was over and the family was reunited, the economic depression hit.  Money was nearly worthless, and they had to start saving up from scratch.  It took a little while, but they finally made it to America.  Opa died from cancer and Oma died decades later at the age of 101.  Wanda and my grandma are both still alive.

I used to think it curious that my grandma has never expressed a desire to visit Germany again.  Even when family members have proposed a trip, she has turned it down.  It was only a year ago or so that I was thinking about it and realized that Germany carries too many terrible memories for her.  In her mind's eye, Nürnberg is probably still bombed and destroyed.  Germany is not a happy place for her; why would she want to return there for a visit?

At the point in the story where I am, the Book Thief is a young girl being sent away from her hometown in Germany just as Wanda was sent away.  Her mother accompanies her on the voyage, though I don't know yet whether the mother will be returning to their hometown.  The Book Thief's brother just passed away on the train.  Somehow, having Death narrate the story is comforting to me.  I love that Death takes up people's souls into his arms and carries them.  It is a beautiful image.

I have high hopes for this book, though I don't think it will be at all fun to read.  It isn't meant to be fun.  I just hope I don't spend Spring Break crying.

(Note: This second photo was found online and was not taken by my ancestors.  It is, however, a photo of Nürnberg after it was bombed by Great Britain.)