The Night War

These chapters explore Bravery in the Face of Danger as a pivotal theme in Miri’s coming of age. Miri’s bravery is apparent. With regret and shame, Miri remembers “cowering in the convent in Paris” as the roundup took place (59). For Miri, the word “cowering” conveys her perception of her weakness, inaction, and cowardice. However, she then reflects on the amazing and terrifying things she has taken on before and after the roundup:

I had been brave enough to walk away from the vélodrome. I’d been brave enough to carry Nora with me. Brave enough to walk out of this school and try to find her in an unknown town. Brave enough to ask if I could return to the castle today, despite knowing there were soldiers there (60).

In this moment, Miri confronts her own limiting beliefs about herself and concludes—based on the evidence of her actions—that she has, in fact, become a brave person, as she had always hoped to be. Her role as a passeur builds her confidence that she will be able to escape with Nora later: “I had been brave. I could be brave again” (75).

Miri’s bravery is further established when she volunteers to smuggle the woman through the dark castle past the Nazi guards—a life-endangering task to help a stranger. This represents significant character development for Miri, who—in the opening chapters—felt fearful of going into the Pletzl for bread. With pride, Miri reflects that the escaping woman had chosen to trust her, just a child, to lead her to safety and that she “had proven [her]self trustworthy” in bringing the woman to the Vichy side of the river without alerting the guards to the woman’s presence (80). Miri’s confidence in herself continues to grow as the challenging circumstances of her life demand more and more from her and as she rises to meet these challenges.

Beatrice’s identity as a Jew, still unknown by Miri, continues to be hinted at in these chapters. Beatrice accidentally invites Miri’s curiosity when she says, “My father was a doctor,” prompting Miri to wonder, “Was a doctor. Was. Not is. Was her father no longer a doctor? Did her father no longer exist?” (62). Beatrice’s fear of her identity being revealed is illustrated through her antagonistic and defensive glare: “Beatrice glared at me as though I’d asked the questions out loud” (62). Beatrice’s apparent unfriendliness is motivated by fear; like Miri, Beatrice fears being discovered as a Jew. The Cumulative Horrors of Antisemitic Prejudice and Genocide are insinuated in the girls’ secrecy and fear; it is extremely dangerous to live as a Jew in occupied France. Both girls have experienced great trauma because of the persecution of Jews.

As Beatrice’s suspicion about Miri’s Jewish identity increases, she begins to defend Miri from Jacqueline’s curiosity; Miri notices this change in Beatrice’s manner, although she doesn’t yet understand the reason behind Beatrice’s new loyalty: “I looked at Beatrice from the corner of my eye. Just a few days ago she’d been the one with all the questions. Now that she knew I had something to hide, she’d stopped asking. At least in front of Jacqueline” (81). Beatrice’s role shifts from an antagonist to an ally in these chapters, although Miri is still reluctant to trust her: “Beatrice sidled up to me. ‘You can trust me,’ she said. ‘I know you don’t believe it, but you can’” (79).

Sisters Dominique and Annunciata prove themselves to be trustworthy in these chapters; they reveal knowledge of Miri’s true identity and are involved in underground smuggling to help Jews in France escape. When Sister Dominique takes Miri to the castle and shows her where the Vichy border starts, she reveals that she is also showing Miri her path to freedom: “‘God gave you a brain, Miri, and courage. Use them.’ I stared at her. Miri. Had she said Miri? Or had my mind turned Marie into my own name?” (56).

The true identity of the woman in black—the ghost of Catherine de’ Medici—is also hinted at in these chapters. Miri mistakenly thinks that the woman is Madame Simone; this incorrect assumption is contradicted by Sister Annunciata: “‘Madame Simone?’ Sister Anchovy frowned. ‘I thought she was living in Paris’” (80). Furthermore, Catherine’s true identity is implied in her haughty and regal manner. She behaves like royalty, speaking down to staff and wanting a garden that reflects her status: “I don’t want bushes. I want elegant. A garden for royals, not commoners” (84). Catherine’s reference to scythes and her “old-fashioned cloak” also suggest that she’s from a different historical era (67). Miri strays close to the truth when she reflects on the strangeness of the woman’s requests: “‘I don’t know how to use a scythe!’ I knew what one was, but barely. What did she think this was, the eighteenth century? When peasants brought in their wheat harvests by hand?” (85).

Even though Miri’s Jewish identity endangers her, she also draws on it as a source of strength. Her Yiddish language enables her to act as a passeur—a people smuggler—and to save the life of the woman—also presumably a Jew. This act brings Miri pride and self-confidence and renews her determination to eventually smuggle herself and Nora out. Jewish Identity as a Source of Strength is referred to here; Miri refuses to internalize the damaging messages of the Nazi Party, which imply that Jews are lesser. She remembers her mother singing in Hebrew; this calms and comforts her: “I was standing by my mother’s side in our snug house in Germany, the table set with white linen and silver, my mother singing: ‘Hamal’ach hago’el osi, Hamal’ach hago’el osi mikol rah’” (86).