The Book Thief  by Markus Zusak, 3/5

It took me about 200 pages to get comfortable with Zusak’s style.  At first, I found it painfully and tediously artsy, like reading a never-ending poem in free-verse.  The multitude of clumsy kennings grated on my nerves, as did the overly-studied randomness.  However, there were some powerful parts and near the end, I admit, I cried.  I felt angry because I do not like sad stories, but I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised that a story about a German orphan girl and a Jewish fugitive during WWII, narrated by Death, was more of a roller-coaster of emotions than a carousel of merriment.