The Bone Sparrow

“It’s only breakfast time, but already the sun looks angry.”

The author personifies the sun through Subhi’s observations about the weather and uses sensory imagery to convey the situation. The quote establishes a sense of place in describing the oppressive sun and the exposure of the camp located in the Australian outback. Lack of water, heat exhaustion, and dust sickness are ever-present problems for the camp’s inhabitants.

“I can feel that zipping in my legs that I get every time I’m about to run a package. That kind of excited, scared zip that makes everything feel a little bit sharper and more real.”

There is little positive stimulation for the children in the camp as they have no organized activities or educational opportunities. Though Eli and Subhi’s delivery system is illegal within the structure of the camp, it gives them a sense of purpose and agency and Subhi relishes the thrill of the adventure. He doesn’t realize that the sensation he feels is the exhilaration of helping others in need.

“Beaver ended up losing his eye because of it, and now just has his eyelid sewn down flat over where his eye used to be.”

Beaver represents debased cruelty, and his appearance, in the book’s viewpoint, matches his beastly character. Ironically, he received the wound by helping Harvey escape an attack from an angry camp resident. However, the act of bravery turned him sour, and now he directs all his hatred for the loss of his eye at the remaining detainees.

“Maá said he had a guardian angel, except the way she said it was, ‘He have luck wings. But it go, same as his foot. Ói, Someday, Subhi, luck wings comes back.’”

This quote represents an example of dialect as Maá mixes Rohingya with English. The passage also relates to birds and flight as symbols of hope and freedom. Maá’s story foreshadows the appearance of Jimmie, whom Subhi describes as an angel and who will ultimately offer him hope and a chance at freedom.

“I curl up next to the prints and close my eyes, letting the earth pull me deep down into its stomach and wrap me tight in all its whisperings.”

Subhi has a close connection to the land, despite Australia not being his cultural home. He draws strength from images of the sea, stars, rain, and trees even though he’s never seen them. Finding no comfort in camp life nor his mother’s dwindling ability to care for him, he seeks refuge and solace in nature, whether real or imagined.

“I don’t tell Eli how those boys pushed me right up close and showed me a little baby rat, its eyes not even open yet, sniffing around for its maá. I don’t tell Eli how those boys said I was to kill it.”

The forced incarceration and institutionalization have made the boys of the camp violent. Their dehumanization has transformed them into brutes, and, seeing that Subhi retains his innocence, they desire to initiate them into their ranks. The brutal incident is intended to toughen him up, but it instead breeds shame in Subhi and makes him feel less than human.

“Rain. Real rain. The kind that pours from the sky like it will never end. The kind that thumps through your body and pounds on your head with those big fat drops that splat and tickle down your face and into your ears.”

Water is a necessary, life-giving force. In this passage, the author uses onomatopoeia to convey the sounds the rain makes as it pours down on Subhi and his mother. The scene represents a significant moment in the narrative; not only is the rain a miraculous weather event for the dry, dusty camp, but the deluge also brings Maá out of her bed and outside the tent for the first time in a while, and she shares the moment with her son.

“That was when Queeny still looked forward. When she still talked about Someday. That was back when Queeny was still good at playing.”

Though Subhi has maintained a sense of childlike innocence, Queeny is fully a teenager and sees the depth of their suffering and resents being forgotten by the Australian government and the rest of the world. Queeny looks to the future and is trying to make a difference, but Subhi sees it only as rejection. He longs for a simpler time when his sister was his friend.

“Queeny was right: real beds and pillows must have feathers in them, because what else could get them that puffed? I try to imagine what it must feel like to sleep on feathers, but I don’t know about things that soft. There isn’t much soft in here.”

Seeing photos of Jimmie’s home opens Subhi’s eyes to the reality of their situation. Having never slept on anything but a cot, he has no knowledge or experience of a real bed. Subhi uses the bed as a metaphor for their life. Confinement has made everyone and everything hard.

“It makes me feel like there is something bad coming, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

As the narrative progresses, Subhi feels a growing sense of unease, though he can’t pinpoint the source or the reason. The ominous feeling is symbolic of his gradual loss of innocence. His eyes are opened to the scope of the humanitarian disaster in the camp.

“All setting-sun sweet and shell-pool cool mixed together and spread so thick that the jam and cream squish over the sides and drip down on to the rug.”

Using sensory language, the author gives the reader a glimpse into Subhi’s experience of eating delicious food for the first time. The passage has a poetic, stream-of-consciousness feel as the words blend much like the delicious flavors in his mouth. The author also uses alliteration and rhyming, adding to the poetic tone.

“The anger on her face puffs out like smoke clouds from cigarette and burns as hot as the sun.”

The author uses figurative language to describe Queeny’s face as she becomes enraged at Subhi. Comparing her anger to smoke and the fiery sun conveys the depths of her anger and frustration as she implores Subhi to see things from her perspective. It also echoes earlier in the story when Subhi describes the sun as angry.

“All the fences inside are down, pushed over and squashed up in the middle, so there’s no Family, no Ford, no Alpha.”

Subhi longs for liberty and unity, yet he lives in a place that forces his people to be divided and separated by fences. During the riot, the divisions temporarily disappear as the people trample the fences. However, the unity comes with violence and bloodshed causing more pain and trauma for the people.

“There were sixty-seven of them, all squished so tight in that truck that their chests ached with the pushing of their breaths.”

After Eli’s death, Subhi’s inner monologue reveals more about Eli’s past. His journey to the camp was traumatic as he lost all his family in the transport. The author uses sensory language to convey the horrific conditions he endured as everyone but he suffocated during the journey.

“They are just sitting and lying and crying and moaning and the whole world has lost the plot and dropped their load and shy of their bricks and crazy and wrong and rotten.”

The diminished mental health of the asylum seekers is a prominent motif in the narrative. Subhi relates several stories of individuals who have become increasingly mentally ill from forced incarceration. After the riot, he sees this mental anguish on full display and uses every cliché and euphemism for mental illness to describe the shocked, traumatized people.

“All I’m left with is an echoing kind of empty, and my stomach feels as though it has been kicked by a truck, and I get what Eli meant about his heart bleeding.”

Subhi often struggles to find words for his feelings, but after Eli’s death, he is left almost emotionless. Having heard Eli use the phrase “bleeding heart,” Eli now understands what that means. He has a deep internal wound that he can’t repair.

“I think of Oto and Anka and Iliya and Ba and Maá and Queeny and Eli and all of us. All of them all that time ago, and all of us now. Just trying to find somewhere to be safe. Just walking out journey to peace.”

Though Subhi’s experience is traumatic and strips him of all childlike innocence, it does open his eyes to his plight as well as that of other asylum seekers. He realizes that all humans are deeply connected. He also sees that the world must learn to work together so everyone can be liberated and live in peace.

“I can tell you every single hair and line on his face, and the big veins on his hands that wrap up his arms like snakes. I can feel the heat and heaviness of his body close up to mine and Queeny’s.”

Learning that his father is dead and will never return represents the death of a dream for Subhi. However, Queeny immediately follows the bad news by telling Subhi stories of their father, which make him come alive. This passage represents the power of storytelling and the importance of passing on stories to the next generation to preserve cultural heritage and create intergenerational connection and healing.

“A sparrow in the house doesn’t mean death. It means change. Waking up new and starting again. Subhi, a sparrow in the house is a sign of hope.”

Some traditions and superstitions claim that the presence of a bird in a house is a sign of impending danger. However, other myths containing birds, such as that of the storied nightingale, suggest they signal a good omen and bring comfort. Regardless of the historical significance, the sparrow becomes a sign of hope for Subhi and Jimmie as it brings them together at a time when they both need each other.

“And my head fills with memories and stories from so long ago that fences weren’t even invented yet.”

Once Subhi begins healing from his trauma, he begins to tell and create stories again. He understands his place now as a storyteller to transmit the history and bring to life the stories of his people. Fences are a motif in the story as they represent division and disunity, and Subhi dreams of a past and of a future where these boundaries aren’t needed because everyone has learned to live in harmony.

“My mind is blank and the screaming in my brain is louder than before.”

Subhi is likely experiencing symptoms of post-traumatic stress and potential symptoms of a concussion. After Beaver’s attack as well as the concussive blast of the kitchen explosion, he could have a traumatic brain injury, which results in brain fog and confusion. Post-traumatic symptoms can present similarly as the brain tries to process the trauma.

“Burma would become known as Myanmar, and the Rohingya would be told that such a people didn’t exist.”

Subhi’s completion of the Anka and Oto story includes the story of the Rohingya people and how they became displaced in Bangladesh. They were forced from their homes because the government didn’t recognize their ethnic identity. This passage touches on the prominent theme mentioned often by Queeny that they are a forgotten people.

“Soft green and blue and purple and orange lights are coming in waves, pushing through the darkness, reaching out to us, rippling across the night.”

The author uses sensory language to convey the beauty of the Northern Lights appearing in the sky. The undulations of the colors remind Subhi of the waves on the sea. Though he has never seen the ocean, its image has often been a comfort to him.