THIS WEEK’S WINNER
MANILA, Philippines - Felicidad Lilian Ong is a graduate of De La Salle University and currently works at Hewlett-Packard. “Working there has been a dream. I’m regularly sent to other Asian countries instead of being stuck in one building the whole year. My dogs are the cutest in the world, but I wish they would bark less.” Her favorite authors include Kate Morton, Mark Mills, and Alice Hoffman.
I wore pajamas to bed till high school. I stopped wearing them because shorts are cooler (literally). For children, pajamas signify bedtime and dreamtime. In my favorite book, pajamas signify something sinister and evil. The Boy in the Striped Pajamas by John Boyne is a fable intended for both children and adults — but more for adults.
I learned about the film version first before I learned that it was based on a book. The film’s poster depicted a tall barbed-wire fence with two boys sitting on either side of it. One boy looked normal enough, while the other boy was wearing “striped pajamas” and was obviously malnourished. The boys, Bruno and Shmuel, shared a forbidden kind of friendship. Their story was set in Auschwitz, Poland during World War II. Bruno was the son of a German commandant and Shmuel was one of the thousands of Jews whom Bruno’s father was tasked to massacre. It was certainly the most tabooed friendship at the time. But they were both only nine years old. What did they know about life? As far as they knew, the ugly fence was the only thing preventing them from playing together. Wars have always been recounted by adults. The Diary of Anne Frank was an exception, but mostly it is the grownups telling the horrors of war.
War films mostly feature adult lead actors. But what about the very young children? How did they see the war, the Holocaust? Were they terrified out of their minds? Confused? Indifferent? Bruno wondered why the people in the enclosure were all males of varying ages and always wore “striped pajamas.” The prisoners’ uniform did resemble pajamas. Almost everything is a mystery to children. He and his family lived just meters from the concentration camp. Being an inquisitive child, he naturally peppered his parents with questions about the pajama people, but they always gave vague answers. I thought the parents were either barbarians or imbeciles for letting their son witness the goings-on at the camp.
Whenever Bruno saw the German soldiers shouting and pointing guns at the Jews, he was never sure what to make of it. He was only sure it gave him an unpleasant feeling. Hitler and his lady love are also in the novel. They came to dinner at Bruno’s house. Hitler was portrayed as small and had an incongruous tiny mustache. His lady love, on the other hand, was a nice creature — at least in the story. She noticed Bruno’s shoes were small for him and advised him to buy a new pair soon before he hurt his feet. Bruno was of the opinion that Hitler was the rudest guest in history — shouting at the lady love and taking his father’s place at the head of the dinner table! The nerve!
As for the two boys, their friendship was put to the test when a soldier, Lieutenant Kotler, caught Shmuel eating while working — little Shmuel was polishing shot glasses. The food was from Bruno and Shmuel told that to the vicious Kotler. He also added that he was friends with Bruno. But when the vicious Kotler confirmed it from our dear Bruno, he denied any association with Shmuel. Bruno initially tried to give evasive answers, but the lieutenant shouted and shouted at him until he cracked. Shmuel received a beating from Kotler. Unbelievably, he forgave Bruno!
I do not remember being a very forgiving nine-year-old! But then, little Shmuel was not a typical nine-year-old. He was incarcerated in a concentration camp and enduring all kinds of cruelties. Having a nine-year-old narrator gave the novel a fresh and pure perspective — not tainted by cynicism and worldliness. For one solid year, Bruno and Shmuel met at the fence every day without anyone else being the wiser. The camp was very large and not every inch of it was heavily guarded. They talked about their lives, their families, and their dreams. Their conversations were innocent, tender, funny, and sometimes sad.
One day Bruno decided to risk it and crawled under the fence and into the camp. To avoid detection, Shmuel lent him an extra pair of “pajamas.” Bruno was going back to Berlin the next day; it was their last chance to play together. That day, there was a scheduled gassing. The older men were herded and the two boys were caught in the throng. They were too small to elbow their way out so they just went along. They didn’t realize their barely-begun lives were about to be snuffed out. Once inside the airless gas chamber, the adults panicked. Bruno squeezed Shmuel’s hand and told him he was his “best friend for life.” Their hands remained locked together until the end.
Perhaps the author wanted to avenge the Jews with this twist — the only son of a German commandant dying in a German death chamber. Only he knows. I’d like to think that this novel, at the core, is about friendship. I recently had issues with a friend of 12 years. Even long friendships are not bulletproof. Friendship, when not handled with care, can be so draining and tumultuous. But when given enough TLC (tender loving care), it becomes the source of immeasurable joy.