Bruno

Character Analysis

Let's face it: Kids are usually pretty perceptive, constantly paying attention and noticing things, especially when they're not supposed to. It's just how they roll. So why, we wonder, does Bruno not pick up on the fact that his father is a powerful Nazi? Or that his best friend is a Jewish kid trapped in a concentration camp? Or—speaking of concentration camps—that his family lives twenty feet away from one? He's only nine years old, after all, an age that's ripe for taking in the world around him. So let's do some exploring.

The Sweet Life

At first, things are pretty good in Bruno's life. He lives in Berlin in a five-story house, complete with a maid, cook, and butler. He has three best friends, two parents, and a somewhat annoying sister. In other words, it's all good in Bruno's hood. Well, at least until he comes home to find Maria (the maid) packing his things—then this world quickly goes out the window.

You know how kids are super curious? Well, Bruno's no exception when it comes to his family's move—he asks a lot of questions about this change. But his mother either evades him or gives him fluffy, vague answers. And he doesn't get much better from his father, who explains, "This is my work, important to our country. Important to the Fury. You'll understand that someday" (5.54). Translation? Don't worry your pretty little head about this one, son—just fall in line. And since Bruno's only nine, following his parents' lead is really his only option.

In other words, as much as we can see that Bruno's age makes him curious, we can also see that it limits how much of the world falls under his control—and that his parents have raised him to only concern himself with so much.

One is the Loneliest Number

After they move, Bruno tries to entertain himself, but it's slim pickings out there at Auschwitz (go figure). He isn't friendly with his sister, so she's out, and there aren't any other kids nearby—unless you count the hundreds trapped on the other side of the fence. At first, Bruno doesn't know what to make of these kids—they're all skinny and dirty and wear the same striped pajamas. It's hardly a hygienic bunch, and they're nothing like the children Bruno used to play with back in Berlin.

So for a few weeks, Bruno turns to the family's help for company. But Maria and Pavel just aren't the same as a young playmate, so at his core, Bruno is an unhappy guy:

When he closed his eyes, everything around him just felt empty and cold, as if he was in the loneliest place in the world. (2.61)

Here's the thing: Bruno kind of is in "the loneliest place in the world," what with living next to Auschwitz and all. But he's young, so instead of comprehending his surroundings, he's more tuned into how they make him feel—and while these feelings mirror and stem from where he's living, he lacks the maturity to piece this all together. Instead, everything just feels "empty and cold." It's an instinctive, instead of intellectual, response to the terrible world Bruno finds himself living in.

Brother from Another Mother

Life begins to look up for Bruno, however, when he meets Shmuel. The only problem, of course, is that the kid lives on the other side of the fence—but while there's literally no avoiding this reality (it's a freaking fence, after all), Bruno pays their divider little mind. Shmuel's easy to talk to and a good listener, and Bruno's desperate for friendship so—being the kid that he is—his attention lands on how Shmuel satisfies one of his needs, instead of trying to really understand why his new friend is so thin and wears the same ratty clothes every day.

When Shmuel finds out that he and Bruno share the same birthday, he says, "We're like twins" (10.572). In this moment, though, we can see just how un-twin-like these two really are. Yes, they're the same age, and yes, they take to each other's company easily—but for all the Bruno blissfully fails to understand about his pal and the other folks who "live" next door, Shmuel isn't afforded to same luxury. We're not saying it's Bruno's fault that he gets to stay a kid longer, but it's important to note that someone his age is capable of understanding more than Bruno does.

In fact, Bruno may even understand more than he recognizes. Looking at Shmuel, Bruno understands "[…] sometimes people who were sad didn't want to be asked about it" (10.546)—demonstrating an instinctive appreciation for how much his friend hurts, while also not pushing himself out of his comfort zone by spending time mulling over the potential sources of Shmuel's pain in his mind.

Welcome to the Danger Zone

Speaking of Bruno and his comfort zone, let's take a moment to talk about the moment with Shmuel and the chicken. In Chapter 15, Bruno finds Shmuel in his kitchen, cleaning glasses for his father's birthday party, and he insists his friend have some chicken. But when Kotler catches Shmuel eating, and Shmuel says he's noshing only because Bruno shared with him and they're friends—Bruno totally denies knowing his poor buddy. Just like that, he totally gives their friendship the shaft.

So what's up with this? Well, you know how Bruno only questions so much… and how his parents are fond of telling him to mind his own beeswax… and how scary (think: authoritative) Kotler is? We're thinking that this all comes together in a perfect storm here, prompting Bruno to prioritize his own safety over Shmuel's. Remember: Bruno, through a combination of naivety and being raised not to ask too many questions, doesn't really understand Shmuel's plight. So while he can see his friend's fear here, he doesn't appreciate how much higher the stakes are for Shmuel.

And so, like so many nine-year-olds would, Bruno protects his own butt. He doesn't want Kotler to start yelling at him, so he keeps the man's wrath on Shmuel.

Mr. Empathy

At the end of the day, Bruno lives in a nice, warm bubble. But what he lacks in perception, he ultimately makes up for in empathy, bringing Shmuel food, helping him try to find his father, and listening to his pal. And that's a heck of a lot more than most concentration camp prisoners got. At one point, Bruno wonders:

What exactly was the difference? […] And who decided which people wore the striped pajamas and which people wore uniforms? (9.516)

And when he does, it's clear that while he lacks clear understanding of the world around him when it comes to facts and an ability to articulate the tragedy unfolding next door, his instincts are spot on. Unfortunately, though, in the end, Bruno's naivety and empathy come together, prompting him to dress up as a camp prisoner to help Shmuel find his dad—and leading him to his death by his best friend's side.