In honor of May Day, let’s pretend we’re having a MAYDAY emergency. Ready?
Oh no! Where did these ginormous waves come from? Our boat is crashing on this deserted island! AAAAH!
*spits out mouthful of saltwater, peeks through seaweed encrusted eyelashes*
Look . . .it’s not a deserted island. It’s a desserted island. As in fancy cupcake trees and butterscotch pudding ponds. And a volcano that spews dark chocolate lava.
The guard genie tells us that upon entering this desserted island, he will conjure up ONE book for each of us. And it must be a novel. Nothing sensible or practical like the Bible or 50 Ways to Survive on Beetle Larvae. Who needs beetle larvae when you have mud pie?
What book will you choose? A beloved favorite? Or a big, honking tome you’ve been hankering to read but haven’t had the time? You may wonder how long we’ll be on this desserted island. It’s impossible to know, so choose wisely.
I’d ask the guard genie for my all-time favorite, THE BOOK THIEF by Markus Zusak. It’s about a young girl growing up in Nazi Germany, whose family hides a Jewish man in their basement. Death serves as its narrator. It’s experimental fiction. It’s risky and innovative and gorgeous. When I need to feel inspired, I read bits and pieces like this:
“Hair the color of lemons,'” Rudy read. His fingers touched the words. “You told him about me?”
At first, Liesel could not talk. Perhaps it was the sudden bumpiness of love she felt for him. Or had she always loved him? It’s likely. Restricted as she was from speaking, she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to drag her hand across and pull her over. It didn’t matter where. Her mouth, her neck, her cheek. Her skin was empty for it, waiting.
Years ago, when they’d raced on a muddy field, Rudy was a hastily assembled set of bones, with a jagged, rocky smile. In the trees this afternoon, he was a giver of bread and teddy bears. He was a triple Hitler Youth athletics champion. He was her best friend. And he was a month from his death.
Of course I told him about you,” Liesel said.”
On this May Day, I can think of nothing dreamier than to laze about under the shade of a Snickerdoodle tree, savoring this delicious book again and again.
What book will you bring to our desserted island?