Daniel's Story

Matas advances the figurative (symbolic) meaning of pictures when Daniel says, “I don’t have my pictures anymore. Still, I can make pictures in my head […] so that when the time comes to tell of what happened, I will tell it clearly” (81). Photos remain linked to evidence—whether they’re tangible photos or mental images in Daniel’s head.

The explanation of Auschwitz acts like a photograph—as if Daniel is showing the reader various images of the biggest, deadliest concentration camp to spotlight its organization and brutal routine. Everything said about Auschwitz magnifies the theme of Dehumanization and Genocide, but this time, the information doesn’t come via dialogue but through Daniel himself. Daniel can explain the atrocious framework behind the Holocaust. He isn’t innocent. He doesn’t need a grownup or another person to teach him about what’s going on. He has the experience of being a teacher, and his tone is educational and critical. He says the Nazis “were so deluded, many still believed they could win” (82), and he compares German businessmen to the pharaohs, alluding to Passover and the Israelites’ liberation from slavery in Egypt. With the comparison, Daniel gives the Holocaust a biblical dimension and shows how Jewish history links to persecution and suffering—though not necessarily genocide.

Arguably, Auschwitz demolishes the symbolic value of Erika’s violin. She plays it in the band, but it doesn’t bring her hope. Daniel says, “[S]he’d given up. Her eyes were hollow, empty” (84). Though Daniel doesn’t use the word in his story, Erika meets the criteria for a “muselmann”—politically incorrect camp slang for someone alive on the outside but dead on the inside. Primo Levi, an Italian Jewish person, survived Auschwitz and wrote about his experience in Survival in Auschwitz (1961). Levi doesn’t know the origins of “muselmann,” but he describes them as “non-men who march and labor in silence, the divine spark dead within them, already too empty to really suffer” (Levi 82).  

In communicating with Erika, Daniel advances the theme of Survival and Resistance. He resists the Nazi orders and writes Erika a note that gives her life. Daniel says, “[I]n her eyes, there was hope now instead of emptiness and death” (88). Daniel’s dad encourages Daniel to risk his life and write Erika the note. He also supports his choice to help Adam and the resistance. Joseph’s attitude towards Daniel furthers the theme of Lost Innocence. He doesn’t baby Daniel or protect him from the truth. He treats his son as an adult capable of facing their bleak reality. He bluntly describes their situation, “They’ll kill us one way or another. Maybe you can help stop it” (90). Joseph helps Daniel by getting him a camera case and a clean uniform. Father and son turn into a team. They have the resources to survive, and they help each other live.

The kapo, secretly a resistance member, brings dark humor to the story. Before giving him the camera, he hits Daniel in the stomach, and Daniel quips, “Have you ever heard of pretending?” (93). The reappearance of a physical camera brings back the literal dimension of pictures and gives Daniel a tool for resistance, even as the risks he takes to record images of the camp jeopardize his survival. Daniel takes pictures and uses imagery to describe the horrific photos, like when he says, “I saw corpses of every size turning black from heat” (93). He also uses imagery and dialogue to show how the Nazis deceive the new transports into thinking they’re taking showers—circling back to the Dehumanization and Genocide theme. The Nazis act like they’re not dehumanizing them to get them in the gas chambers and continue the genocide.

This section has various atmospheric shifts. The destruction of the crematorium and Adam’s choice to shoot SS officers give the story a dramatic, suspenseful atmosphere and reveal the difficulty of effectively countering the Nazis’ genocidal system. Daniel’s dream about his mom creates a mystical atmosphere. His dad says, “Daniel, her spirit. She was with you. I just know it” (100).  

Daniel uses imagery to show the reader the horrors of the death march and the indifference of the civilian population. It’s like they don’t think of the prisoners as humans. Dialogue helps Daniel figure out his new location: An inmate tells him he’s at Buchenwald.