Death is the narrator and nobody warned me

I'm about a third of the way through, maybe slightly less, and I already know this one is going to sit in me for a long time.

Nobody told me Death narrates it. Nobody! I was two pages in going, hang on, who is this, and then it clicked and I had to stop and stare at the duvet for a second. He keeps telling you what's going to happen before it happens, which should ruin everything and instead makes it so much worse in the best possible way, because now you're just waiting for it.

Liesel stealing the books. The accordion. Her foster dad sitting up with her in the night doing the alphabet on the wall. I've cried once already and I'm not usually a crier at books, I'm a crier at adverts.

I'm reading it slowly on purpose, which is unusual for me, because normally slow means I've quietly lost interest. This time it's more like I'm rationing it? Also I currently have Good Omens and Mistborn and Circe on the go as well, which is a lot, I'm aware, please don't.

The colour bits at the start of each section took me ages to click with. I skimmed two of them. Sorry.

Nine so far. I reserve the right to come back and change this once I actually finish it, which, look. Statistically.