The Bone Sparrow

Content Warning: This section contains depictions of human suffering and violence towards and the murder of children, as well as discussions of self-harm, the death of a parent, and death by suicide. It depicts life in detention centers, the persecution of immigrants, and the persecution of Muslims, particularly the Rohingya. Refugee experiences, and associated depictions of displacement and trauma, are described. It also engages in negative stereotypes of people with missing eyes.

As far back as humans can trace, people have depended on oral traditions to transmit cultural heritage to their progeny. Storytelling has always been at the core of preserving language and traditions within a people group as well as a means of entertainment and artistic expression. In her novel The Bone Sparrow, Zana Fraillon highlights that storytelling is a vital force that connects individuals to each other and their cultural heritage. At the beginning of the novel, Subhi explains that he depends on his maá’s stories to learn about his Rohingya culture. Though separated from his home country, through her words, Subhi connects to his culture and finds his identity. Subhi explains the importance of the knowledge she carries, the “stories from a time so long gone that he couldn’t know except by being told them himself” (45). Stories connect Subhi, Queeny, and their mother in an immediate way, but they also connect the three to their people overall.

Maá shares happy stories, but she doesn’t shy away from sharing the painful parts of their history, and through her depictions of the suffering of Rohingya people, Subhi fosters a sense of pride in his community, understanding the resilience of his people to survive persecution and exile. Storytelling is also a vehicle for teaching language, and through his maá’s tales, Subhi learns to speak Rohingya, maintaining a linguistic continuity that is vital to passing cultural identities on to the next generation. However, conditions in the camp together with the trauma of institutionalization have left Maá broken in body and spirit, and she wanes in her will to be the sole carrier of their heritage. Subhi longs for her stories each night, but he soon realizes that he must become the carrier of the stories as well as create new ones of his own. The entirety of the three’s culture survives through these stories, and the three of them survive in a physical and emotional way through them too, Maá losing her ability to leave her bed when she does not engage with them regularly. The novel emphasizes the link between the Rohingya generally and Rohingya people in a physical and individualistic sense; the group needs to survive, but so do the individuals, and all will do so through cultural narratives. Specific generations will endure through them, as will the exact process of creating cultural generations.

Subhi enjoys weaving his own creative stories, and the practice becomes an outlet for him since educational and recreational activities are scarce inside the camp. Storytelling provides a fantastical escape from the harsh environment as well as allows Subhi some semblance of agency over his life as he creates the narrative. As Subhi spends time with people in the camp, particularly the older residents, he begins to collect their stories and even illustrate them. Subhi begins to understand the power of storytelling on a deeper level as he realizes that the stories help keep hope alive and that, like Maá, when people stop recounting the stories, they deteriorate physically and emotionally.

Subhi explains the danger, saying, “Because sometimes, in here, when people stop talking, and stop asking, and stop remembering, that’s when they start to lose that piece of themselves” (47). As Queeny asserts repeatedly, the refugees feel unseen and their stories untold. By listening and recording their stories in artistic form, Subhi restores part of their humanity and reminds them of what it means to be Rohingya. In the end, Subhi learns that he, too, needs healing through stories, and it is the discovery of his ba’s book of poetry that helps him begin recovering from the trauma of Eli’s death. The Rohingya tell the stories of their people but also tell the stories of themselves. As they tell the stories of themselves, they live their stories, taking control of their own narratives through a shared cultural strength. Subhi will take on the burden of leading his generation along this cultural line, making Rohingya culture real in a group sense but also in an individualistic one.

Eli shares Subhi’s love of a whimsical story, but family stories become the core of Subhi’s friendship with Jimmie, and the written word binds them together in a powerful way. Since Jimmie can’t read, Subhi takes the role his maá held for him and transmits Jimmie’s cultural heritage to her through the spoken word. The narrative states,

Her mum told her about the Bone Sparrow when she was little. Told her how it had protected her family for generations. Told her how it carried the souls of all her family, keeping them together and safe on their journey (28).

In hearing Jimmie’s family story, Subhi draws closer to his own culture, and the process reignites his passion for understanding his roots and passing the knowledge on to others. In turn, as Jimmie hears Subhi’s stories, she gains empathy for the plight of his people and all refugees displaced around the world. Stories help both characters heal from trauma and set their eyes on the future. Throughout the novel, the author exemplifies the profound impact storytelling has on preserving cultural heritage, particularly for displaced persons, and reveals how crafting and carrying stories can become a lifeline for anyone dealing with adversity or challenging circumstances. Stories bond people together, both within cultures and across them, and, in this sense, The Bone Sparrow bonds individual readers to the Rohingya people and their struggles. Subhi tells stories of the Rohingya but also tells stories of their plight, of right now, as it is all part of their cultural narrative. Similarly, the author hopes readers will share stories of the Rohingya and therefore also spread the truth about their experiences in oppressive displacement camps. Their stories will help them survive, and they will also, like with Jimmie, help us focus on our own heritages more closely. Stories have power across this narrative in many different ways, even in a very immediate and concrete one.