Yeah, I know, I’m about ten years too late on this one. The thing is, I read The Book Thief and I thought the story was brilliant and the narrative perspective was genius, but the mixed metaphors irritated me no end. Sure, the language sounds impressive until you think about it and realise a lot of the images don’t quite work. That’s not to say I didn’t love The Book Thief, I did. I just needed to make sure I hid all my red pens and anything else I might be able use for scribbling editorial comments in the margins with before I started on Zuzak’s other books.
I know a whole lot of people will hate me for this post, but in terms of language, The Messenger is worse than The Book Thief. I just want to grab Zuzak by the collar, shake him and yell: ‘Dude, your plots are f*%$#@g awesome, take a creative writing course and tidy up your God damn expression. I mean, the man has Jonathan Safran Foer potential.
That said, I started The Messenger on Saturday evening and I’ve only got twenty pages left. I’ll polish off the last bit and stick up a proper review.