April122012

I just finished I am the Messenger by Markus Zusak

what-a-treacherous-thing:

And I absolutely loved it. It’s the kind of book that breaks your heart multiple times, but then subsequently fixes each break. It’s the kind of book that makes you feel the good kind of nauseous, because all this pain and beauty are hitting you where it hurts. It’s the kind of book that makes you dread, yet desperately want the last page. It’s the kind of book that changes you.

(Source: os-winner)

April52012
October192011
September162011
shafnaamk:

Set in the backdrop of Nazi Germany,in 1940s,when Hitler started to waver with his preaching,when Germany ferociously crusaded against her loathsome frenemy to secure the icy domains of Soviet Russia,comes a hearty tale of a little girl amidst the shrapnel and devastation.
At an initial glance,one may perceive the story to resonate the heart wrecking wrath that lavished the Jews,however,it also depicts the suffering of below average German families,torn between morals and racial pride.
Another forte of this piece of literature is the potent narration,of death,cloaked in dismay of his job description,sans the scythe and the aura of a grim reaper.
“Even death has a heart”,he beseeches.
It is also an agglomerate of tiny stories,beginning with the simplest act of book thievery,planting in motion of the corresponding events to come, bridging over the incredulous power of words with agony of millions of families and finally,exhibiting the irrevocable love of a foster father and his daughter.
The author’s style of breathtaking descriptions using the most prosaic metaphors like coffee stains,cement gray is one to look out for,as he snatches away your breath. He also paints a lifelike picture on how death gently plucks soul of its occupied bodies,observing the hues around him,as a distraction of the oddest job he is employed for. Even the most sentimental lines,Zusak delivers it with a laid back slumber,as though he was talking about the weather.
To sum it up,this book is full of irony as death himself is haunted by humans.

shafnaamk:

Set in the backdrop of Nazi Germany,in 1940s,when Hitler started to waver with his preaching,when Germany ferociously crusaded against her loathsome frenemy to secure the icy domains of Soviet Russia,comes a hearty tale of a little girl amidst the shrapnel and devastation.

At an initial glance,one may perceive the story to resonate the heart wrecking wrath that lavished the Jews,however,it also depicts the suffering of below average German families,torn between morals and racial pride.

Another forte of this piece of literature is the potent narration,of death,cloaked in dismay of his job description,sans the scythe and the aura of a grim reaper.

“Even death has a heart”,he beseeches.

It is also an agglomerate of tiny stories,beginning with the simplest act of book thievery,planting in motion of the corresponding events to come, bridging over the incredulous power of words with agony of millions of families and finally,exhibiting the irrevocable love of a foster father and his daughter.

The author’s style of breathtaking descriptions using the most prosaic metaphors like coffee stains,cement gray is one to look out for,as he snatches away your breath. He also paints a lifelike picture on how death gently plucks soul of its occupied bodies,observing the hues around him,as a distraction of the oddest job he is employed for. Even the most sentimental lines,Zusak delivers it with a laid back slumber,as though he was talking about the weather.

To sum it up,this book is full of irony as death himself is haunted by humans.

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