Thank goodness for library book sales. I knew nothing of this book, but I saw it on the table and it looked worth a try, so I picked it up. And it’s very, very good. He tells the story of his years in Japanese prison camps in Indonesia as a young boy. What most impressed me was the voice—I could hear the voice of a child, simultaneously innocent and old, aged too early by brutal experience. He is never sentimental, though deeply emotional, and he never strives for effect; he tells us what he saw and felt and thought, and leaves the rest to us to contemplate, to respond to as we will. His love for his older brother and his remarkable mother glow through the pages.