I Am David

In these opening chapters, David is presented as a dynamic character who develops and changes through his experiences. Initially, as a product of the cruel and traumatic concentration camp, his decisions are motivated by instinctive self-preservation and fear. He waits, terrified, to be shot as he climbs the fence and walks toward the safety of the tree line; “the thought pounded through his head as every moment he expected to see the ground lit up in front of him” (4). As he runs through the first long night, “he could hear a whimpering moan […]. Not until afterwards did he realize that the sound had come from himself” (7). This illustrates David’s acute terror, as well as his intentional dissociation from his own emotional experience. The world is perceived as terrifying and adversarial—“fear grew to a sharp-pointed terror that seemed to pierce right through him”—as this is the only life David has ever known (7).

An important turning point occurs when David first encounters beauty. He sits above the coastline in Italy and observes an ocean “bluer than any sky he had ever seen,” “villages whose bright colours gleamed dazzlingly,” and “trees with many changing tints of green” (20). He is shocked that the scene before him is bathed in “the warming sun,” “not white-hot and spiteful and scorching, as the sun had shone above the camp in the summertime, but with a warm golden loveliness” (20). He is so overcome with emotion at the beauty before him that he weeps.

At that moment, “suddenly he knew that he did not want to die” (20). His experience of beauty is humanizing; David feels a connection to his emotional experience and an appreciation of the world. For the first time, his surroundings are not merely bleak, terrifying, and adversarial. This newly found enthusiasm for life increases his fear of discovery: “Was it all to last only a single morning, all the beauty, all his desire to live?” (23). David’s wonder persists as he travels through the Italian countryside: “All his life David had seen nothing but the same ugly, flat, grey scene, and now he never grew tired of tramping through the ever-changing countryside” (51). This moment develops the theme of Beauty as Healing and Inspiring.

David’s shock and wonder at the cheer and beauty of Italy also points to the desolate, depressing, and dehumanizing nature of the camp where he had lived previously. He is shocked that, in the Italian town of Salonica,

Almost everybody was laughing! It was not the ugly laughter he was used to when they laughed at the prisoners…it sounded pleasant, even beautiful, as if they were all content, and felt friendly towards one another. […] And the people were beautiful! (30).

David remembers that he had only ever seen good-looking people briefly “when they first arrived at the camp,” illustrating that life at the concentration camp devastated the inhabitants’ souls, minds, and bodies (30). This is further illustrated in David’s observation that “before he had come to the town, he had known about nothing but death” (37), whereas his experience in Italy is different:

(H)e had learnt to live, to decide things for himself; he had learnt what it felt like to wash in clean water in the sunshine until was clean himself, and what it felt like to satisfy his hunger with food that tasted good; he had learnt the sound of laughter that was free from cruelty; he had learnt the meaning of beauty (37).

David realizes through these reflections that life is worth living, and he becomes even more determined to evade recapture; “now that he had learned about beauty he wanted to live” (20).

David’s fear of recapture is a recurring motif, illustrated by his fear of socializing with other people, his reservations about taking lifts with strangers, and his fear of being inside a house: “Houses were dangerous places: you never knew but what someone might be standing in the doorway barring your exit the very moment you wanted to slip away” (51).

He is only convinced to stay with the family when they reassure him emphatically that he may leave at any time.

David’s sense of autonomy grows alongside his determination to live:

[E]ver since the night he had found the bundle lying under the tree as the man said it would be, his feet had carried him along, deciding the way for him. This time it was he who had made the decision. His feet had not wanted to take the risk of crossing the road, and he had mastered them and forced them to do it (24).

Before leaving the camp, he had no reason to make decisions about his life. Once he is free, he exercises his self-determination by adhering to his strict moral code, as illustrated by his refusal to hit Carlo back: “If I hit you back, I’d be no better than you are. I’d be just as rotten and worthless, and I’d have no right to be free” (63). Having spent his whole life imprisoned, David prizes personal freedom above all else.

The act of cleaning oneself is an important symbolic gesture that has a cathartic meaning for David. When he arrives in Italy, David finds a river and spends hours thoroughly washing himself and his clothes with the soap he specifically requested from the hate man at the concentration camp. David even sharpens a stick to clean his fingernails and toenails. Once he is clean, he happily reflects that he is finally free and master of himself. The ubiquitous dirtiness of the camp was clearly dehumanizing for David; he regains a sense of autonomy, control, and self when he can clean himself.

The important symbolic act of cleaning is again illustrated when Carlo beats David: “He scrubbed himself thoroughly all over. […] [H]e must not leave a spot unwashed where the boy touched him. Not until all contact with him had been washed away would David be able to feel free again” (65). Violence and repression are metaphorically and literally associated with dirtiness in David’s mind, whereas freedom, morality, and autonomy are associated with cleanliness.

David’s identity is presented as a mystery, even to himself. He does not know his origin, any family members, or why he was imprisoned:

He did not know who he was, did not even know what country he came from. He had always lived in the camp, and even Johannes, who knew so many things, had not been able to find out anything about him for the simple reason that no one knew anything (29).

One logical explanation would be that David was Jewish; however, “Johannes had said he was sure David was not Jewish” (29). Holm establishes intrigue and mystery around David’s identity to build suspense for the reader as David nears his destination and later learns more about himself and his origins. Similarly mysterious is David’s relationship with “the man,” an individual who holds a position of power within the camp and chooses to help David. David loathes this individual: “He saw the man and was conscious, somewhere in the pit of his stomach, of the hard knot of hate he felt whenever he saw him” (1). Suspense and intrigue about David’s identity are further developed through the seemingly incongruous gesture of a guard choosing to help a young prisoner escape.

The Power of Human Connection to Heal Traumatized Individuals is established as an important and recurring theme. Johannes, David’s ally and friend who died three years before the story is set, is established as a loyal and loving ally who helped to nurture and support David. David recollects Johannes, remembering “Johannes smiling; Johannes who, if his voice had grown lifeless and grating like the others, had never changed inside himself” (13). The trauma David experienced at the loss of Johannes is evident in his concerted effort to not think about his friend and mentor, lest he succumb to depression and devastation: “Ever since he was small, for three whole winters and summers, he had known that he must not allow himself to think, and above all that he must never think about Johannes” (13). Johannes’s reemergence in David’s psyche, to give him the required strength and courage to journey to Salonica, illustrates Johannes’s role in helping and supporting David. David draws on the memory of his friend, using Johannes to help him to survive the trials of life “as he had done when he was small” (14). Tellingly, “after that it was easy” (14). Johannes clearly nurtured David’s emerging sense of self and operated as a quasi-teacher and parental figure.

To a lesser extent, the Italian sailor, the Italian baker, and the truck driver Angelo also help to reaffirm David’s trust in the goodness of strangers and help to disrupt his established beliefs that all individuals he encounters will be adversarial enemies looking to report him.

Human connection is also explored through David’s connection to Maria. David was “burnt and black with soot, stark naked but full of happiness and triumph, clinging to the prize he had cheated death of” (72). His newfound connection with Maria absolutely overshadows any distress at his burns or fear of the fire: “She did not stop smiling, and David realized that he himself was smiling” (71). By saving Maria and sharing a moment of intimate joy, David smiles genuinely for the first time in his living memory, illustrating the power of human connection to bring happiness.