The Boy in the Striped Pajamas – John Boyne
100-Word (or Less) Synopsis: [adapted from the dustjacket to avoid spoilers] A nine-year-old boy named Bruno arrives at a fence. Fences like this exist all over the world. We hope you never have to encounter one.
Expectation: A World War II historical fiction tearjerker.
Reality: A simple, yet layered story that leaves you with complicated feelings.
Recommended For: Fans of John Boyne (this was the book that put him on the map) and those looking for an introduction to the Holocaust for younger readers.
Why I Read It: The next stop on my Boyne obsession, and while it wasn’t my favorite book of his, it’s worth the time.
My Take:
I’m going to separate this review into two parts: 1) My perception of the story while listening to it, and 2) My perception of the story after listening to the author interview that ended the audiobook.
[Spoilers abound. It is recommended you only read this review after finishing the novel]
Basic plot: Nine-year-old Bruno and his family must relocate from Berlin because “the fury” has given his father a promotion. Bruno, his mother, and sister all struggle in the new, far less grand location.
While exploring his surroundings Bruno meets a boy in striped pajamas, named Shmuel, who becomes his only friend. Separated by a fence, but bonded by the same birthdate, the two boys try to make sense of their contrasting situations. This being Poland — Auschwitz, more specifically — fate is not on their side.
Perception 1: Thoughts While Listening
I’ve read other novels, also young adult, that feature German children. “The Book Thief” by Markus Zusak and “Salt to the Sea” by Ruta Sepetys are both better than “Pajamas,” but Boyne flips the script by making our main character the child of a Nazi, and not just any Nazi, but the commander of Auschwitz.
With Bruno’s innocence — and sole narration — we’re presented with a different perception of the Holocaust and what is happening, quite literally, in his backyard.
In many ways Bruno takes what’s happening at face value. He knows something isn’t right, but he never pushes the question with his parents. While the way he approaches his relationship with Shmuel can be perceived as the purity of childhood, I didn’t fully buy that his intentions were noble.
The fact he doesn’t understand why a fence separates him and Shmuel is incredibly difficult to believe, given his father’s position in the Nazi party. While he is portrayed as sheltered, given his age (a year later he would’ve entered the Hitler Youth), it’s a stretch to think he didn’t have bias against Shmuel.
To me, the relationship was an act of rebellion and done out of spite for his father making them move to Poland, and general curiosity as to whether what he heard about those surviving in the camps was true. And, we know what they say about curiosity and cats.
You can’t call a nine-year-old complicit in the Holocaust, regardless of who their parent is, but I had many “are you really that stupid?” moments. In some ways it felt Boyne was trying to create sympathy for the devil, and even more so after the tragic ending of Bruno and Shmuel.
The story left me with complicated feelings, specifically about revenge and justice. Is Bruno as much a victim as Shmuel, or did he reap what he sowed? Was his tragic ending justified so his father would suffer the same pain he inflicted on others? In many ways these questions are Boyne hallmarks. Still, do we have to do that with a Holocaust setting?
Perception 2: Thoughts After the Author Interview
I didn’t know much about this story going in, but it sounds like there was a lot of love it/loathe it discussion upon publication for many of the points I discuss above. And this is where Boyne’s “why” actually makes me give this book a higher rating than I initially planned.
First, we must acknowledge that we’re reading this with the benefit of hindsight. Boyne purposely wanted to write a story from the perspective of an outsider, and in essence that’s what Bruno was. He stated that until the camps were liberated most people in the world didn’t understand the true horror of what was happening. This is true.
He also said that it’s important that we recognize there were many people living around concentration camps that were complicit in the atrocities without ever directly harming a prisoner — their silence was the weapon. That’s a little more complicated to unpack, but it’s also true.
So, Boyne didn’t set out to write a story about the experiences of a young German boy living in shadow of Auschwitz, he did, however, create a commentary on humanity’s ability to avoid the realities that make us uncomfortable and our knack for manufacturing our desired beliefs, even in the face of contrary evidence.
Could Bruno have brought down Auschwitz, or even liberated Shmuel? Likely no. But we’re kidding ourselves if we believe he didn’t know what was happening to his friend. He may have been naïve, but he was still human and old enough to recognize that raising his voice would bring him harm, and that’s better when it happens to someone else.
[spoilers over]
Boyne acknowledges that some liberties were taken with the history, and this shouldn’t be accepted as a factual account of life in and around Auschwitz. This is a welcomed acknowledgement for anyone going in.
This is a good introduction to the Holocaust, and a way to address complicated discussions about the Allies’ response, dangers of isolationism and the murky morality of life during war. Boyne isn’t here to give you answers, just the questions.
Michael Maloney gives a passable but unremarkable narration, and I think it was a missed opportunity to use a child actor. This would’ve made the story even more affective and lessened some of my initial criticisms. An adult can’t sell willful ignorance in the same way a child can.
Rating (story): 4/5 stars
Rating (narration): 3/5
Formats: Audiobook (library loan)
Dates read: May 6 - 11, 2021
Multi-tasking: Good to go. I mostly cooked and cleaned while listening.