…The end of Alice Walker’s The Color Purple and the beginning of Markus Zusak’s The Book Thief. Without giving away spoilers, I was surprised by the happy ending of such an emotional and at times difficult read that was The Color Purple. On the other hand, The Book Thief opens with literal Death himself as the narrator so…quite the contrast. You could call The Color Purple a coming-of-age story, although it is unlike any other I have read. It’s riveting in its epistolary form, which is a new word I learned while reading (it just means the book is written in letters), pretty cool. I liked this as it made it easier to read and with the content being so bleak at times this really felt necessary to combat that. These letters are written in the dialect and slang of the protagonist, allowing her to tell this story in a voice that is her own; not influenced by the reader’s own voice in their head. I think I’ll give the epistolary thing a go in my own writing. More thoughts on The Book Thief to come in time…for now though- the title keeps reminding me of the time I accidentally stole my local library’s copy of The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas… basically I thought I returned it…but that was in 2010…I still have it…
Anyone else ever accidentally…or purposefully stole a book? I won’t tell on you.
P.S. I do not condone stealing of any kind. 😉
