The blaze emitted a dark smog with embers that lit the night. The smell of burnt paper overwhelmed Ilsa's senses. Books were Ilsa's last connection with her lost son. Her son who cherished books and devoted his fleeting life to collect them. After the SA soldier had proclaimed to "say goodbye, to this rubbish, this poison," and a "Heil Hitler," all Ilsa could do was stand and stare. The sight of the burning was sickening to gaze upon however, as the flames licked the books, Ilsa could not turn away from the sight. Could not gaze away from the men, women and children that marched to the bonfire to throw in what was deemed appropriate by the Nazis.
~Things Nazis Enjoy Burning~
1. Books
2. Kommunist flags
3. Jews
Ilsa was highly cultivated compared to most and spotted numerous titles and authors from the books being destroyed. From The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka to Emma Lazarus's The New Colossus, hundreds of years of Jewish writer's accomplishments was becoming no more than ash.
~Found In The Pile~
Heinrich Heine:
"Wherever they burn books
they will also,
in the end,
burn human beings"
An unsettling feeling swirled in Ilsa's stomach at the barbaric scene. Knowing better than to drop her facade of a stone wall, Ilsa glanced away from the fire to observe the calm demeanor of her husband. While not falling into a pit of despair after the loss of their son like herself, she could note how aged his face appeared in the warm light. During the rise of the Nazis, he had become a pawn to those men. He worked tirelessly to keep things running smoothly in his town and remain on the favourable side of der Führer. However much she resented him for allowing the books to be cremated like their son, she would forever be conflicted as his public facade allowed her to keep her own books in secret.
The things power could give.
The crowd seemed mesmerized by the flames. Unable to look away. Unaware of the atrocities they have participated in. Unknowing what to do now the task has been complete. The books were burning, what was der Führer's next command?
~ A Brief Comparison~
Book Thief = Mischief and Curious
Ilsa Hermann = Silent and Isolated
Both Brave.
Yes, I have meet Ilsa before as a young lady. Instead of wooing men like others her age, she rather enjoyed the company of books. She was reading in the lounge room the night of our collision. I had come to collect her father, a cold man of shades darker than a stormy ocean. A man of great power and little remorse regarding his actions. As for her mother, she too was splendid company, with the attitude of a pig and the ways of a snake. The dasky emerald cloud emitted around her only stayed true to these traits. However Ilsa's warm pink glow contrasted greatly to those of her family.
I gather the master of the house in my arms with little restraint. He thought his life was well lived. I could argue with that statement, however for his situation, why would one want to live in a world where one withheld love?
~Symptoms Of Those Remaining~
Shook? Yes.
Sadness? Regret? No.
Now watching the flames burn down, Ilsa reminded me of an ancient oak tree, old, strong and weathered. However wood is wood and wood makes good kindling.
The last treasures were thrown into the fire. Observers and participants transfixed by the scene, unable to make a sound. Hesitantly, some began to pulled away from the bonfire and cautiously make their way home. Soon all that remained were a few Nazi officials, upperclass people and the clean up workers.
Herr Hermann brought Ilsa's attention back to the present by a gentle hand on her arm, successfully guiding his wife away from the remains and towards the Town Hall were a few people of self appointed importance were gathered. Casual words of insignificance were exchanged.
~Conversations Unworthy Of Ilsa Hermann's Attention~
"A triumphant evening."
"Only the grandest of celebrations for der Führer."
"The town over was only planning on burning half the amount of books we did!"
Watching the smoke turn from grey to white, Ilsa was glad the night was coming to an end. Wishing only to go home and check that all her son's books were in place and hidden from the public eye. The clean up had already begun and the remains had become little more than soot. The men shoveled it away with discontent, almost colliding with a young girl whose curiosity got the best of her.
Ilsa was stunned by the appearance of the girl. She had moved undetected by the few remaining bystanders and was now staring intently at the pile of ashes. As suspicious as this activity was, Ilsa couldn't help but admire the girl's bravery to go so close to the cremated remains. While others had kept a ten foot radius of the pile, this young girl cautiously stood in front of it.
Intrigued, Ilsa drifted away from the social group. She watched as the girl quickly scoped her surroundings before grasping smoldered book.
~A Friendly Reminder~
This was the second time Ilsa had caught The Book Thief
The girl moved quickly from the scene and the fascinated Ilsa didn't move a muscle when she beheld her husband marching towards the Thief. However, he remained ignorant to the girl and her crimes, instead simultaneously walking and yelling at the poor hungry men working on clean up the mess.
The girl smiled at his oblivious nature but dropped the face when she turned to Ilsa's stare. Ilas winced to herself at the near confrontation between her husband and The Book Thief. Nevertheless, staring at The Book Thief, Ilsa recognised the blonde haired girl as the one who has also previously stolen from her. The one who would soon become more than just a peasant Thief to Ilsa. The one who would soon fill a mother's beaten heart with the love only a child share.
Hey ma duds
Earlier this year I had to write a creative piece for school on The Book Thief and this was the turn out.
I got decent marks (93%) (jk this was my best mark pretty much ever in English).
But anyway I was super proud and now looking back on the year I wanted to put it on FanFic just in case other people would enjoy it :)
Hope everyone is alive and staying strong 3
Eemmah