Milkweed

“Everyone, even Uri, howled with laughter. Explosions went off beyond the walls.”

This passage reflects the absurdity and incomprehensibility of war-torn Warsaw. Despite the violence and carnage around them, Misha, Uri, and the rest of the boys continue to laugh and play together. Spinelli establishes the resilience of these characters through this moment. He makes it clear that the boys are determined to live, despite all of the death that surrounds them. 

“You’re not a Jackboot. You’ll never be a Jackboot. You are what you are.”

After Misha tells Uri that he wants to be a Jackboot, Uri berates him. Initially, this sentence speaks directly to ideology that unwittingly supports prejudice. Identity is a complicated thing, especially for Misha, and cannot be dealt with in absolutes. Uri’s stance on this alters when he later becomes a Jackboot, working from within to help the Jews rebel against the regime. While Uri does become a Jackboot, at heart, he remains himself: a Jewish boy dedicated to helping others. 

“And so, thanks to Uri, in a cellar beneath a barbershop somewhere in Warsaw, Poland, in autumn of the year nineteen thirty-nine, I was born, you might say.”

Previously unnamed, Misha is “born” due to his friendship with Uri. This passage sets a precedent for the rest of the novel, wherein Misha will be defined by the people who surround him.

“When you’re nothing, you’re free to believe in anything.”

In a discussion about angels, Uri responds with the above quote. The sentiment is a complicated one but speaks foremost to the need for Misha to find some sort of belief in anything larger than himself. The irony implicit in the fact that he latches on to a Christian symbol to find this faith is large, but the choice of symbology is ultimately arbitrary, as it keeps Misha going. Further, many of the other orphans don’t share this belief in angels, in the classic sense of the word. Those boys disappear, while Misha continues on. 

“‘You’—he pointed at me—‘are the black pearl.’”

Doctor Korczak says this to Misha when the young boy brings coal to the orphanage so that the children can keep warm. Misha is dirty and covered in coal dust. Doctor Korczak says this because he is consistently surprised and warmed by Misha’s good-heartedness. Later, Misha will have to cover himself in white dust, to hide the dark shade of his skin and better blend in, beyond the Warsaw ghetto walls.

“I believe this was the first rule of life that I learned, though it was a twitch in my muscles rather than a thought in my head: Always be the first to move.”

Misha thinks this after he steals a family’s roasted dinner before they are even out of their seats. The above passage speaks to Misha’s character. He is forced to be in perpetual motion, always on the run from and towards things. 

“They found the Jew. Or should I say, they found a Jew. Jews were interchangeable.”

The above passage is one of the first moments wherein Misha lets on that he knows more about the Nazis and Holocaust than may be initially apparent. Misha thinks this when he watches as a mob punishes a Jewish man for allegedly cutting up part of a merry-go-round to use for kindling. 

“I remember ovens. I had one [...] once. I was a human being once.”

Mrs. Milgrom says this after she sees the baking powder that Misha steals. The sentence is a practice in tragic irony, as later in the novel, Misha and the Milgroms realize that they are headed to Nazi concentration camps that include ovens, instead of resettling in new villages. 

“I am a Jew now. A filthy son of Abraham. They’re screaming at me. I am somebody.”

Misha’s relationship with his identity is a complicated one. Having been previously no one, he is grateful to be a part of the Milgroms’ family, and by extension, Jewish. In a time when to be Jewish is to be persecuted and at constant risk of dying, Misha chooses to be one nevertheless. It’s telling that his identity, here, is negatively reinforced; this is something that returns time and again for him through the novel. 

“From the moment Mr. Milgrom said, ‘He is now,’ my identity as a Gypsy vanished. Gone were the seven wagons, seven brothers, five sisters, Greta the speckled mare. Deep down I guess I had always known my Gypsy history was merely Uri's story, not reality. I didn't miss it. When you own nothing, it's easy to let things go. I supposed my last name was Milgrom now, so Pilsudski went too. I kept Misha. I liked it.”

The passage above is another example of Misha’s ever-changing identity evolving once more. Despite knowing that Uri’s story about his past is false, Misha clings to it out from need. When Misha is finally adopted by a family however, he does not rid himself of Uri’s story completely. He keeps his first name and his identity becomes an amalgamation of truth and half-truth, a mix of his relationships with Uri and the Milgroms. 

“I feed whoever I want to feed.”

Misha is upset with Janina when she asks him why he chooses to feed Doctor Korczak’s orphans. This statement not only speaks to the kindness and generosity inherent to Misha’s character, but also to the power and strength that the small boy somehow comes into. Despite being physically small and ignorant of many things, Misha is able to steal food, and he chooses to share it with others.

“Enos says it's right here, on this side of the wall, but I never saw an angel over here. Kuba says it's in Russia. Olek says Washington America[...] it's a place with no wall and no lice and lots of potatoes.”

In this passage, Misha and Uri talk about different versions of heaven. To the boys, heaven is a corporeal place because the ghetto is nothing less than a living hell. Heaven is any place outside of the ghetto where food is abundant and there is peace. 

“It was getting crowded in there. First angel. Now happy. It seemed there was more to me than cabbage and turnips.”

Mr. Milgrom explains the meaning of happiness to Misha. Mr. Milgrom tells Misha that happiness lives inside of him and Misha is astounded by the things that he is apparently capable of. It is telling that the concepts of happiness and souls are initially foreign to Misha, and have to be learned. 

“There will be no train. Uncle Shepsel is right. There is nothing else they can do to us.”

Spinelli’s use of irony is an example of the tone through most of the novel. The combination of irony and characterization allows Spinelli to convey dread and hopelessness of Misha’s situation to the reader.

“My first stupid thought was Parade! Then I saw the Jackboots poking them with rifles and the dogs lunging and snapping.”

The passage above speaks not only to Misha’s established innocence and naivety, but also to his growth as a character. Previously, Misha would have undoubtedly believed the march of people to be a parade. However, after everything that Misha has now seen, he recognizes the childish thought for what it is and sees the reality of the situation: the Jackboots are forcing the Jews to do as they say.

“The Jackboot flung me against a wall. I saw his hand go to his holster. I saw the gun come out and point between my eyes. ‘Die, piglet!’The voice. I looked up. The red hair. The face. ‘Uri!’ I cried, and the gun went off.”

The passage above speaks to Uri’s character and the relationship between Uri and Misha. Uri continues to protect and risk his own safety for those who are weaker than him, and it is this lesson that he teaches Misha. Misha’s good-heartedness is partially learned from Uri. Misha feeds the orphans and the Milgroms because he grows up seeing Uri doing the same for others. 

“Somewhere along the way I heard the story of Hansel and Gretel, and I knew that the end was not true, that the witch did not die in the oven.”

Misha’s reaction to the fairy tale is a visceral one. He later rips up a copy of the fairytale when he sees it in a bookstore. Misha is forced to recognize that there are few happy endings in real life, that fairy tales fail to depict the true horrors of reality and the outcomes for those that survive them.

“I understood that the Uri I knew–the real Uri– was not the one the Nazis knew. I smiled to think of him on the last day, once again in his own clothes, shaking his fist at the oncoming tanks, his red hair flaring, invisible no more, calling all the world’s attention to himself.”

Misha’s realization that Uri worked to revolt against the Jackboots from within completes the arc of Uri’s character. Throughout the novel, Uri relies on his invisibility to help others and himself. At the conclusion of the novel, Uri sacrifices himself, exploiting his invisibility so that he has the chance to save others.

“I wallowed in words. There was no end to them. They were free for the taking. No one ever chased me down a road yelling, ‘Stop! Thief! He stole my word!’”

After the war, Misha begins selling wares along roads and train tracks. He finds that he enjoys speaking more than selling things. Misha finally discovers something that is infinite and entirely his own: his voice.

“And you? You were the thing that gave me shape. ‘But I wasn’t even listening,’ you say. ‘I don’t even remember you.’ Don’t feel bad. The important thing was not that you listened, but that I talked. I can see that now. I was born into craziness. When the whole world turned crazy, I was ready for it. That’s how I survived. And when the craziness was over, where did that leave me? On the street corner, that’s where, running my mouth, spilling myself. And I needed you there. You were the bottle I poured myself into.”

Misha’s need to speak, to tell his stories about all that he suffered in Poland echoes his desire for connection, for someone to listen and to care about the atrocities he has suffered. It is implied that Misha suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder and survivor’s guilt, and Misha is only able to find reprieve by talking about all the horrors he has lived through. 

“We hear you. It’s enough. It’s over.”

Two women approach Misha on the streets of Philadelphia. They listen to his stories and one of the women reaches out to touch Misha and cup his missing ear. This small connection is enough and Misha no longer has any desire to tell his story on street corners. The fact that someone has heard him—a fact punctuated by the woman touching Misha’s injured ear—allows for quiet both from and inside Misha.

“The milkweed does not change colors. The milkweed is as green in October as in July.”

Misha observes the milkweed pods float in the air as his granddaughter plays in the yard. Milkweed is a constant in Misha’s life, and Misha himself is constant in his resilience. 

“Angel plants must have sun.”

Milkweeds are a symbol of hope, resilience, and also of Misha himself. He calls the milkweeds angels in a reference to his time with Janina. Despite being able to survive desolate landscapes and harsh conditions, the milkweed thrives in easier environs.