Book Review: The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas

Boyne's novel was turned into a film in 2008.

The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas tells the story of Bruno, a child growing up amid the horrors of World War 2. His father is a Nazi officer who is assigned to help run a concentration camp in Auschwitz, thus forcing Bruno and his entire family to be uprooted from their home in Berlin and live permanently alongside the other Nazi officers and Jews that they are interning.

Bruno becomes distressed owing to the changes that this new lifestyle brings, complaining about his loneliness, lack of friends and boredom in Auschwitz (or ‘Out With’ as he refers to it). The only person remotely close to him in age initially is his sister, who he fails to bond with, partially as she seems overly preoccupied with her collection of dolls.  

As Bruno’s memories of his idyllic-sounding previous life in Berlin grow increasingly dim, he befriends a Jewish boy named Shmuel, who he finds on “the other side of the fence” one day whilst engaged in the process of “exploring”. The two strike up a relationship that transcends state-sponsored hatred between Nazis and Jews, but leads to inevitable problems, given his father’s pro-Hitler stance.

One question I asked myself after reading this book was why a relatively young Irish author would choose to write about the Holocaust, an event that he presumably had minimal (if any) linkages with. While he treats the event with the utmost sensitivity throughout the story, critics of the book have emerged and castigated Boyne for committing perceived inaccuracies in the novel that, one might argue, exposes his lack of first-hand knowledge on the matter.

Sample: “One afternoon Shmuel had a black eye, and when Bruno asked him about it he just shook his head and said that he didn’t want to talk about it. Bruno assumed that there were bullies all over the world, not just in schools in Berlin, and that one of them had done this to Shmuel. He felt an urge to help his friend but he couldn’t think of anything he could do to make it better, and he could tell that Shmuel wanted to pretend it had never happened.”

For example, the nine-year-old protagonist is considerably naïve, failing to understand both the differences between Nazis and Jews and the purpose or activities which take place within concentration camps. Rabbi Benjamin Blech was one of the book’s most vehement critics, deriding it as “not just a fairytale, but a profanation”.

In Boyne’s defence, the book was not intended as a treatise on the Holocaust. It is as much a book about the Holocaust as, for example, American Psycho is a book about Wall Street. It is mostly about relationships and their centrality to our lives, particularly in times of difficulty.

The Holocaust is merely the dramatic backdrop by which the author elects to explore a relationship in extreme circumstances. Its minutiae do not feature as prominently as one might expect. It instead lingers in the background, occasionally encroaching on the main narrative, such as when Hitler (or ‘The Fury’) and Eva Braun pay Bruno’s family a brief visit. So essentially, readers seeking to gain extensive insight or analysis into this horrific event would be advised to look elsewhere.

While the Holocaust-related elements of the narrative never comes across as cloying, Boyne is at his best when focusing on the phenomena that make us human, a proclivity of his that is especially evinced by his perceptive depiction of the relationship between Bruno and Shmuel.

Indeed, experiencing the story, irrespective of its unsettling subtext, is a strangely life-affirming experience. The immense warmth that the novel emanates results primarily from Bruno’s impossible altruism – the type of altruism that seems unique in contrast to the evil that has enveloped his world.

For instance, even at his most unappealing, such as when he pretends not to know Shmuel as he is interrogated by a Nazi officer, Bruno is overcome with guilt for days thereafter, with Boyne’s writing effectively encapsulating his heartfelt remorse in the pages that follow this regrettable incident. Hence, the image of the two friends holding hands towards the novel’s climax is a profoundly powerful and symbolic moment, and one that gives credence to many critics’ claims that eradicating the novel from their memory proved taxing.

Recommended links:

Author John Boyne answers questions about the book in an extensive interview for the BBC World Book Club. 

The Guardian give the book a glowing recommendation.

Manohla Dargis presents a thoughtful if dismissive critique of the film.

Roger Ebert, in contrast, defends its premise.

The power and emotive satisfaction provoked by instances such as the aforementioned moments enable the novel to legitimately transcend historical accuracy for the sake of art.

Anyone who questions the book’s authenticity or veracity is missing the point. It is essentially a parable exploring childhood, truth and the prospective triumph of hope (as symbolised by Bruno’s innate altruism and sympathy for his fellow man) in the bleakest of circumstances. The holocaust is merely a metaphor and is consequently interchangeable with countless other horrific, large-scale atrocities throughout history.

To conclude, Blech is correct in asserting that this book is a fairytale – it is a fairytale in the very best sense of the world. By making reference to Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island within the text, Boyne consciously places his novel within the lineage of classic children’s literature – a decision that seems perfectly justified owing to the overwhelming reaction that the book has provoked since its publication.

Therefore, those readers seeking a spiritually fulfilling meditation on the nature and importance of human friendship need look no further than The Boy in The Striped Pyjamas. Anyone who desires a comprehensive and realistic insight into the debilitating effects of life during World War 2 should consult JG Ballard’s Empire of the Sun or the plethora of alternate exquisitely conveyed literature on the subject.    

Further Reading: The Road by Cormac McCarthy; Empire of the Sun by JG Ballard; Room by Emma Donoghue.

In a nutshell: Gritty, compelling and heart-warming. The book is at times a slow-moving and difficult read, but one that is worth persevering it.

Random fact: Boyne claims to have written the entire first draft in the space of two-and-a-half days.

Film trailer: