A Boy is Not a Bird
A Boy is Not a Bird
“Natt, guess what else? I almost forgot. They let us keep your bike. They’ve been taking bikes left and right for the army, but they let us keep yours. I expect it’s too small for them.”
So I’m supposed to be in raptures because I’m allowed to keep my own bike! Is this what war means? That you have to be grateful for smaller and smaller things? Any minute now I’ll be expected to jump for joy because I don’t have to sleep on a haystack.
Before Mama leaves, she hands Max a paper bag.
“That’s for your mother,” she says. Then she unlatches the gate, waves goodbye and hurries off. I feel a bit guilty, because I’m relieved that she’s gone.
“What did one tricycle say to the other tricycle?” Max asks, to cheer me up.
But I’m not in the mood.
I don’t have to look in the bag my mother gave Max to know what’s inside. I can tell by the sweet almond smell that it’s mandel bread. I’m not sure what it’s called bread when it’s actually a cookie. Maybe because each cookie is shaped like a tiny slice of bread.
I’m doing my best not to dig in right away, but Max beats me to it.
“Sorry about your house,” Max says between mouthfuls. “Everything’s gone topsy-turvy. One thing on top of another. My brother says the surreal is becoming real.”
I look down at the marbles. They’re lying motionless on the ground, waiting for us to shoot them out of the ring. The marbles are exactly where they were before my mother interrupted our game. Nothing has changed for them. War doesn’t affect marbles.
This novel is inspired by the true life story of Edeet Ravel’s grade five teacher, Nahum Halpern. It confirms the dictum that truth is stranger than fiction. A Boy is Not a Bird is a valuable fictionalization of a Jewish child’s journey from what was, in 1940, part of Romania, to Siberia and beyond. Soon after the story begins, Natt Silver’s region is occupied by the army of the Soviet Union and his life changes forever. His father is arrested, and his family is eventually sent to Siberia, along with dozens of others from his village. It is a stark reminder of the chaotic circumstances which affect many children across the world, living through war, famine, and other upheavals. Natt’s compassion and will to survive pull him and readers through many ordeals.
Natt is a complex and intriguing character. He describes himself as lacking in courage and does not see himself to be a tough kid or a survivor. Neither is he street savvy or worldly wise. He is a sweet, smart, naive boy who takes pleasure in the company of his family, his Hebrew school community and his best friend, Max. Life in his village of Zastavna has been only a little altered since the beginning of World War Two, little altered that is until the day it is occupied by the Soviet Army. Natt is somewhat impressed by the ideology of equality which he learns in school, and he is proud to win a prize for outstanding revolutionary spirit. His mother attempts to protect him from the perils around him, and Natt believes that his father’s arrest is only a mistake. He is less inclined to believe that he is “lucky” to have been allowed to keep a few of his possessions when the family is forced to leave their house. But the story is particularly effective as told through the eyes of a boy who does not initially understand the events happening around him. The gravity of the situation is emphasized by Natt’s path towards knowledge. He becomes sad, confused and conflicted. He wonders whether his father has actually done something serious enough to be imprisoned and deported. It is a tough road towards growing up, but Natt handles himself well and is always relatable.
Natt and his best friend Max have a nuanced and believable relationship. It is a portrait of a supportive friendship and a glimpse into how two boys might have spent their time in mid-century Eastern Europe. Similarly, all the relationship are well-developed, even small relationships like the one between Natt and a new Soviet teacher at the school who has obviously been exiled for being too educated, political or cultured. The sense of family life remains strong, even while it is disrupted again and again. Natt lives with friends and relatives for his own protection while his mother campaigns to have his father released from jail. Ravel brings colourful village life to the forefront, with a community that feels complex and real.
A Boy is Not a Bird does not shy away from death and trauma. In one scene, Natt is taken to jail where he encounters violence and unsanitary conditions. The transport to Siberia is especially harrowing. Ravel does not whitewash conditions, and many adults and children die on the trains as they are without access to proper food, water or medicine and are locked in inhumane, unsanitary conditions. The story becomes especially dark at this point as Natt gets used to the idea of constant death around him. There are always bright spots: his mother’s love, the leadership of a brave teacher, Natt’s own courage to take care of a younger friend. Ravel knows exactly how to walk the line between portraying the harsh realities of Natt’s life and making the story educational rather than disturbing.
The pace of the story can be slow at times. While there are many events to follow in the real life story, I’m not convinced that this story needs to be a trilogy. A Boy is a Not a Bird is the first of three books which will follow Natt and his family from Eastern Europe to the gulag in Siberia and, presumably, to North America. While the historical milieu is expertly captured, there are scenes that could have been cut to keep the story moving.
A Boy is Not a Bird is a powerful reminder of the effect of war on children. The intense impact comes from this being a true life story. It is an amazing tale, and, as such, deserved to be recorded and remembered. But it is the historical import more than the storytelling, itself, which is the truly vital aspect of this novel. It is a worthwhile document and is probably a much better introduction to World War II than most history textbooks. It is a potential jumping off point for many discussions. It is also a tale of lesser-known aspects of the oppression and persecution of Jews and others. The region in which Natt’s family lives is not occupied by the Nazis, although the community has had to evade the local fascists before the story begins. The pact between Hitler and Stalin left this corner of Eastern Europe, a true melting pot of cultures where young Natt knows six languages, open to Soviet expansion. At school, the kids are targets of indoctrination, and it is made clear how effective this re-education will be over time. Many are imprisoned and forced to leave their homes simply because there are bureaucratic quotas to be filled. Life is chaotic and random. The suffering of families, specifically children, who were transported east to Siberia is another lesser-known story, and A Boy is Not a Bird does it justice.
Kris Rothstein is a children’s book agent, editor and cultural critic in Vancouver, British Columbia.