Situating a novel in Nazi Germany is difficult because even from the start, everything is turned up to 11. It's hard to do anything subtle at that volume. And as if that's not hard enough, have the narrator be Death. I mean, I get it. You want to pull the camera way back so all the horribleness can be tolerable, and from the cosmic standpoint of death (the fate of all humans, not the narrator) 11 is pushed back down to something manageable so we have something to work with.

The thing is, now you're stuck with this personification, which may work in some poems but just ends up looking silly in this novel. Luckily, Mr. Death keeps out of the way for long stretches at a time so you can forget about that silliness and relate to the story, which is touching. People love this book because there are so many affecting passages. To answer the question often asked about this book, yes, I teared up several times reading this.

Depicting the German people as not all evil but themselves victims creates a paradoxical tension. How do we root for the Allies winning the war by destroying the lives of the characters we have been identifying with? The same tension exists as well in having Liesel's step mother be both abusive and loving.

And we readers understand the power of words to save us from the everyday cruelties of simply being alive, so we're happy to celebrate Liesel's experiences both being protected by words and using words to protect others. We know firsthand how "the same thing could be so ugly and so glorious, and its words and stories so damning and brilliant.”

I know I should overlook this book's flaws and just swim in the emotions, but it's often overwritten and sentimental and, yes, silly, so with all it has going for it, I can't give it more than three stars and change.