I'd hoped to write my final review of The Book Thief today, but (and this will sound incredibly wimpy) I'm just too sick. My body is aching. My stomach is churning. My head is pounding. I haven't slept in two days. I can barely keep my eyes open. So, as soon as I can, I'm going home to bed.
It's just not a day for critical thinking. (See? Pretty wimpy, huh? And also a bit whiny.)
So, I'll post my final review of The Book Thief next friday, and for now, I'll leave you with this link to today's Writer's Almanac, which showcases a poem called "Autopsy in the Form of an Elegy" by John Stone. It's simple, sweet, tragic, and wonderful.
Enjoy.
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We believe there are Shakespeares, Hemingways, and Thoreaus out there today, and our mission is to find them and learn from them.
What do we want?
Art. Dialogue. Beauty. Truth.
And we want it from the art of the here and now.
Join us.
12 comments:
Man, you are kinda wimpy. It doesn't surprise me though.
While I'll withhold comment on the "wimpy" aspect, I thought I'd throw out a couple of questions I have:
1. Death advises the reader to look in the mirror (pg 307) if we want to learn what Death looks like, but I wonder if Death, itself, is a male or female. Any ideas/thoughts?
2. At the end of the book, in Liesel's final vision, she sees "her three children, her grandchildren, her husband" (pg 544) as well as others who touched her life like Hans and Rosa, her brother, and Rudy...but what about Max? He's not specifically named, but we know he made a huge impact on her life. Could he be the husband mentioned earlier?
Just a couple of questions I had by the end of the book.
Hope you're feeling better!
You know, I read the book about a year ago, and I just automatically assumed Death was female. I didn't even expect he to be male until someone else called her "he." I don't know exactly what made me think of it, but I did.
Quit whining, teach.
(Double entendre on "teach," pun intended.)
I have to take a moment to express my frustration with a conundrum I'm having. Several years ago, I made a personal pledge not the read literature for enjoyment while I'm in school. Which sounds terrible, but hear me out. It's because I get so into what I'm reading for enjoyment that I fail to do school. And consequently fail school in general. (Maybe I should qualify my pledge a little...I don't read literature that I choose to read on my own just because I want to, during school. I still enjoy the things I read for school.)
But this group. THIS GROUP. A) I don't know if I can count the reading for this group as required, and therefore acceptable in the Books I Can Read While Enrolled in School canon. B) I'll probably be in school for the rest of my life, and if I stick to this pledge of mine, it severely limits my reading, which simply won't do. C) I'm tempted to use this group to justify reading whatever I want, whenever I want, school or no school.
Moral of the story/executive decision: If I fail anything ever, I'm going to blame this group.
And that isn't limited to failing classes.
That's right. I mess up a cartwheel someday, it's this group's fault.
I hope you're feeling better, Josh.
I've never read David Foster Wallace, but this makes me want to: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/04/26/books/review/Bissell-t.html
Tom would like to request an "action-adventure" book, a la Cormac McCarthy for some future month.
Take care!!
Jane -- You're officially my favorite reader as you're the only commenter on here to express even the remotest sympathy.
I've never read David Foster Wallace either, but one of my students has been leaning on me to read him for months. Tell Tom I've already decided to feature a poetry collection in May, but I'll find an "action-adventure" book for June.
Liz-a-nator -- Here the deal. If you get anything less than an A in my class, you'll pay the price. Here's what that means: Because I'm 15 years older than you, I'll probably die first. When I do, I'll become a ghost and haunt you endlessly. You won't sleep. You won't get a moment's peace. You'll end up justifiably afraid of the dark. So my advice is this: School first -- Entertainment second.
Patty and Anonymous - The one and only -- Hmm. I've always thought of death as a male, but maybe that's because I'm a sexist pig? Do we have any evidence in the book that Death is either male or female? I think Zusak leaves death fairly androgynous.
So, are you now going to accept the excuse from students, "It's just not a day for critical thinking"?
I can see this backfiring on you. :)
Oh, and I imagined Death as a male as well. I'm with ya.
great poem. have you read this one? http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/index.php?date=2008/05/04
I don't think you're sexist, I always thought about Death being male as well. I don't think there's a right or wrong answer to the question. Death states that we should "find yourself a mirror while I continue" (307) if we really want to know what Death looks like. I think Death is a face we are comfortable with and nothing we should be afraid of.
I don't think you're sexist, I just thought the first time through that it was a woman. Personally, I think death in real life is neuter. I think it takes a special kind of personality to carry dead souls off into the sky - and neither men or women have it.
You are so obsessed with sexism. *Rolls eyes*
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