I was fighting back tears as I finished this on the train, as I don't like to cry in public. And when I closed the book, I quickly thought of all the people who may have read it because I simply must talk about it. 
 Take whatever you think this book is about and completely disregard it. It's a simple tale of Liesel, a poor foster girl (aka, the book thief) living in Germany, and the people who live around her in town. And it could be about anyone--it wouldn't be a story worth telling, if it wasn't for the fact they're in the middle of Nazi Germany and there's a Jewish man hiding in the basement. 
 The story is narrated by Death, which is oddly appropriate considering the era. He's tired, too, and he notices Liesel because she seems to be there often when he's doing his job. Liesel lives a relatively normal life the best she can. She loves her foster father, who stays up with her all night to teach her to read. She loves her best friend, Rudy, the troublemaker next door and partner-in-crime. She also loves the mayor's wife who, unknown to Liesel, allows her to sneak into her library to steal books. 
 It's the details that really make the story stand out--those things that are every day and commonplace for the characters. Like, the slippers belonging to the mayor's wife bearing swastikas, or the children going to their Hitler Youth meetings. And let's not forget Max, the Jew living in Liesel's basement. The two form an unshakable bond. At one point, Max paints over the pages of Mein Kampf to write a story of his own for Liesel. Talk about symbolism. 
 I haven't even touched upon the writing. I absorbed every word, and there was never a point that I simply skimmed over the text. I wanted to read everything, and I loved every sentence he constructed. Now this is someone who knows how to write. 
 Someone please read this so I can gush about it with you.