Death is the narrator?! This is book I've been waiting for. Death is definitely the narrator in my life. (That's not as weird as it sounds.) The book is weird and short-attention-span and truncated and brutal. I like it.
It makes me a little bit mad that I can't do something creative like Markus Zusak. Typical. I'm ordinary, experiencing something extra-ordinary.
At least there are people alive who can make that kind of magic, because I don't seem to be one of them.
I've also learned a bunch of new, exciting words (after I made fun of my son for taking German): Here they are:
- sau: pig (you know, like sausage)
- saumensch: pig woman (like a stupid, worthless, fat bitch - even if none of those things are true)
- saukerl: see above - but for men
- arschloch: asshole
I am going to do my very best to drag these terms into the common English vernacular, as (especially high school students) love to insult people in weird ways. I'm going to make it happen.
In the meantime ... read the book.
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