One is Silver and the Other Gold

Champagne Bottle Thickness: Yes, it's true. I did some research and Hans is correct. Champagne bottles are made of thicker glass because they need to withstand pressure up to 100 pounds per square inch. Before people figured out the bottles needed thicker walls, they used to explode. Awesome. (http://www.luxist.com/2010/01/19/the-champagne-bottle-beautiful-and-scientific/) Only Hans would take that fact and use it to his advantage. Rolling paint. Ingenious. (356)

Hans and Liesel. Liesel and Hans. I've been searching and remembering, and I have found that no one has really extensively discussed or blogged about Hans and Liesel's relationship. So, shall we pick the threads apart?

Silver:

Hans. A very lucky man. He's evaded...what? Three potential deaths? I think that's pretty lucky. Besides the fact that he can play the accordion, Hans is a painter. He paints houses. And he doesn't care whose house he paints. Whether it's Jew, German or penniless, he never fails to come up with something:

"...and when the next morning dawned, there he was, painting those blinds for nothing, or for a cookie and a warm cup of tea. The previous evening, he'd have found another way to turn blue or gren or beige to black. Never did he tell them to cover their windows with spare blankets, for he knew they'd need them when winter came." (354)

"So there you have it." (142) Hans is the luckiest man in Nazi Germany. But he's unlucky too. For he doesn't agree with Hitler. Ooh. That's dangerous.

"Who else would do some painting for the price of half a cigarette? That was Papa, that was typical, and I loved him."

Gold:

Liesel came to Hans in an unusual state. Her brother died, her mother left her, and she didn't know how to read. Hence the midnight classes.

That otherworldly color in between Gold and Silver:

Yes, Rosa becomes the loving, swearing, foster mother who shows her love for Liesel in the form of smackings, but Hans is the teacher of words, the calmer of nightmares, and the father Liesel never had (Wow... that sounded really corny. But it's true.). From the time Hans coaxed Liesel from the car, to Liesel's promise to keep reading in the shelter when Hans goes to war, the two have been inseparable. Its Hans who is always there in the night when Liesel remembers her dead brother. Its Hans who brings the accordion upstairs to aggravate Rosa. It's Hans who makes Liesel cry so she can keep Max secret. And it's Hans who embraces Liesel after he warns her what will happen if she speaks of their Jewish stowaway:

"And that did it. The girl began to sob so uncontrollably that Papa was dying to pull her into him and hug her tight. He didn't. Instead, he squatted down and watched her directly in the eyes. He unleashed his quietest words so far. 'Verstehst du mich?' Do you understand me? The girl nodded. She cried, and now, defeated, broken, her papa held her in the painted air and the kerosene light."

Question: What happens when a person is caught between doing what's morally right and doing what will make him/her survive?

The two have a very special relationship. When you think about it, why wouldn't they? They have formed a bond under the watchful eye of Nazi Germany. A friendship because of circumstances, to quote another post. Friendship? Companionship? Foster father- foster daughter ship? Accordionist-thief ship? I don't know. But that's what makes whatever they have all the better.

One thing I realize: It's not just Hans who is changing Liesel's life. It's Max, Rudy, Rosa, and even cranky/sad Frau Holtzapfel too. In a way, Liesel is lucky too. She's lucky to have these people in her life to teach her, to steal with her, and to embrace her.

~Andrea