THE BOOK THIEF
A quiet novel
In Luxembourg City, Valery Schroeder lives a solitary life attending art classes and guitar lessons, stealing books and antagonising strangers. At work she is the office weirdo, at her archery club she is a deranged stalker, and in various restaurants and hotels she is Therese de Montsillac, owner of the financial investment company One Brave Bird.
Only Valery knows who she really is; the daughter of strange parents who made her sing for money. After their deaths in a car accident, she inherits the family fortune, on one condition:
Valery must carry out a hoax that fools the people of Luxembourg City.
Over time Valery has withdrawn into a make believe world of fantasy, conspiracy and isolation, taking her medieval longbow to secluded forests and following the career of her idol, notorious German cellist Ursula von Schumann.
When Valery tells people she’s travelling to Lausanne to meet Ursula she is dismissed as obsessive, possibly dangerous. As the concert date approaches, Valery’s plans become increasingly bizarre, risking her career and, after receiving a suspended prison sentence, even her freedom.
The Book Thief is a tale of isolation, perseverence and a lesson in how to navigate a world where outsiders are feared and rejected.
THE PLEDGE
Valery’s suspended sentence for theft is the start of a two week journey that will conclude with a visit to Lausanne and meeting Ursula von Schumann. But first some issues to deal with…
I said goodnight and he walked away. Of all the options I gave him in my advice I left out one: you could spend your gold, have it taken from you, or, in his case, you could throw it away.
“In all the illustrations it looks like someone has said to it, hey Iguanodon, how you doing? And the Iguanodon puts his thumb up and says, I’m doing good. I’m okay.”
Lothar was a waspish man with a thin face and a single line for a mouth. People would hush when he was around. They waited for him to speak first and if his gaze fell upon you that was it . . .
The door was opened a little more and she stood guard looking towards the kitchen at the back of the house. The kitchen door was missing and instead a heavy cloth like a tapestry hung in its place. A large bird, glowing like a phoenix, was woven into the thread.
“I’ve always liked that,” I said.
“You can’t have it.”
“I don’t want it.”
“You just said you liked it.”
“I like the Eiffel Tower but I don’t want to take it home with me when I go to Paris.”
THE TURN
At the start of week two Valery takes a short break at a French chateau hotel, but her fantasy world threatens to collide with real life and her visit to Lausanne.
They watch you come, they watch you go.
I wore them because I wanted to walk into reception with a confident, feminine swagger, approach the desk and then, removing the spectacles, announce. . . .
“I have a reservation. Therese de Montsillac.”
Removing the spectacles was part of the performance. The arrival. Arrivals establish a person’s status, I always thought. Never creep into a room. Unless you’re a burglar.
“My wife and I stopped here on the way back from our honeymoon in 1985.”
What was that? Great, interesting, an achievement? I knew he was married, but secretly hoped he was over it, estranged, separated. Call it disillusioned, childish even, but he made me feel good. He made me feel important. Perhaps that was the salesman in him. Perhaps he found out the interests of all his clients; joining them on horse rides, admiring their motorbikes, going up in their hot air balloons.
Valery,
I won’t be able to make Lausanne next week, the event in Romania is a priority and as I explained I don’t manage Ursula’s account.
Before you go, can you leave the Dior jacket in reception.
Chris
THE PRESTIGE
Before Valery sets off for Lausanne there are final preparations to be made, and the reasons for the visit begin to concern the people around her.
“Still trying to control, Valery. The paint is a prisoner in your hands, isn’t it?”
“Sorry. Wet on wet is difficult. I need more than a few hours to perfect it.”
“We’re not looking for perfection, Valery, we’re looking for expression, interpretation, the revealing of your inner thoughts.”
“They’re incredible. I’m so pleased with how they’ve turned out. They’re coming with me to Lausanne tomorrow.”
“Yes, you said. Are you still meeting Gudrun von Schumann?”
“Yes. She’ll be jealous. Can you imagine that? Ursula von Schumann jealous of me.”
THE DAY FINALLY ARRIVES...
The taxi driver gave me some funny looks when he saw the longbow.
“What’s that for?”
“I take it everywhere with me. I’m going to Lausanne. I’ve got a crossbow too.”
“Are you planning to kill someone?”
“I wouldn’t tell you if I was.”
I’m inspired, impressed, she emits a feeling of energy that compels me to do things, to be active, to follow my instincts. She’s independent, ferocious, fearless, and that fills me with courage and resilience. She’s talented, arrogant, confident. There is nothing she cannot do. Even living as a vampire she can walk around in sunlight. That’s how powerful she is. And yet, she was moved by the simple act of receiving a pair of gloves as a gift when she was at her lowest.
I told him. Told him about the attack and the gloves and the invite to Bavaria and how it all went from there. And he believed me. He let me speak without ridicule or dismissal.
The afternoon began to improve. The costume was still unwieldy and I felt some satisfaction that it couldn’t stop my accuracy with the crossbow…
JOB DONE
I used to imagine us battling monsters together, hacking through ancient forests to rescue the children kidnapped by a sorcerer, and sailing down the Moselle to raid the castles and steal wine from the vineyards.
Comes a show you can always get a seat. Comes love, nothing can be done.
THE BOOK THIEF*
AVAILABLE NOW
The Book Thief will be found on other retailer’s websites titled One Brave Bird and the Book Thief.