The Boy Who Speaks in Numbers is a darkly satiric account of childhood in times of war. Set in Sri Lanka, the events it narrates could equally happen elsewhere — in all places where human deaths are reduced to numbers, and where guns do not differentiate between adults and children. Mike Masilamani’s ironic narrative centers around an unnamed boy who is more at home with numbers rather than words. Along with a constantly chattering — and prophetic — cow he bears witness to a bizarre and violent time. Matthew Frame’s textured illustrations are a powerful testimony to the absurd horror of prolonged civil strife.
Is war a wholesale business? Does war make an orphan of hope? Is truth a refugee? Whose war is it anyway?
There's too much anger and hopelessness in me to write about the book. It was exhausting for me to read the book, especially given how demoralised I am at the everyday systemic inequalities that STILL exist.
I really like this book. Maybe it also resonated with the current situation in Myanmar. There was not even one dull moment while I was reading the book. I couldn’t stop wondering what would happen next. There were several twists and turns. It really showed how civil war could impact people's lives. And the aftermath of the war too.
For the characters: I didn't like ‘the Aunty’ in the beginning but I felt sorry for her at the end. Her life was drastically changed because of the war. ‘The Lizard’ was also an annoying character in the beginning. He only gave empty promises and he ended with awards. 🙄
Another reason I liked the book was that the author used metaphors. Here are a few ‘the sorry state of affairs’, ‘Kettle Camp’, ‘Zero Objectivity, Obviously Commission’, ‘Little Tin Soldiers’, ‘The Travelling Refugees Circus’, ‘The Question Tree’, and many more. The author interestingly defined the word IDP in different ways throughout the book.
I finished The Boy Who Spoke in Numbers in one sitting, and I’m still unsure how to review it. It’s a light read, but I’m afraid it didn’t add much to my understanding or offer any new insight.
As a child of immigrants who fled the Sri Lankan war — a very clear campaign of ethnic cleansing in the 1990s — I’ve grown up hearing firsthand accounts of the horrors that took place. Reading this book, I found myself feeling confused and underwhelmed. It seemed to gloss over, or even trivialise, the scale and brutality of what actually happened. References that may have been alluding to white van abductions or concentration camps felt vague and muted — these were places where gross human rights violations occurred, especially against Tamil women, and the narrative didn’t seem to fully engage with that reality.
What was particularly unsettling was the portrayal of the “tin soldiers,” clearly a reference to the LTTE, as the main source of violence and fear. They were demonised in a way that felt disproportionate, especially when — in recent years — many members of the Sri Lankan government and military have been sanctioned for war crimes. The book places the actions of the LTTE at the forefront, while largely brushing over the atrocities committed by the state, which speaks volumes.
There’s also a moment in the story where an “aunty” figure is portrayed with sympathy, despite seemingly playing the role of a warden in what felt like a reference to the camps that kept Tamil civilians displaced — often starving, without access to food or water, deliberately kept from their homes. Her son, who returns from his deployment with the Sri Lankan army and can no longer cope with the act of killing, is then killed in a bus bombing. This moment seems designed to evoke sympathy, but again, the broader context — the violence and structural oppression inflicted by the state — is barely acknowledged.
All of this left me asking: What was the purpose of this book? And who was it written for?
Read this for the April prompt of The Unread Shelf Project 2022 - A book by an Indie publisher or small press. This book was gifted to me by a dear friend and fellow book lover and is published by Tara Books.
I was wary of reading this book when I was first given it years ago because of its sensitive and distressing subject - War. Yet, when I finally read it, the World is once again in the midst of conflict. It seems these days, there’s never a time when humans can live in harmony, either with Nature or themselves. The tragedy of our modern times 🤷♀️
The book is a dark satire of the internal conflict in Sri Lanka that raged for years, destroying the national fabric of that beautiful island nation and resulting in destruction of life, property and trust. Mike Masilamani uses heavy symbolism, metaphors, irony and satire to tell the story of ordinary victims of war - people who are caught in the crossfire - families and especially children - who are traumatised by events beyond their control. There are recognisable human stereotypes of wartime that serve the narrative well, although I felt their symbolism would be obscure for children to understand - although I might be wrong. Perhaps children growing up in wartime, unfortunately find these stereotypes recognisable? If so, another tragedy of our times.
The Boy who speaks in Numbers, his Kind Uncle who Never Speaks, the Constantly Complaining Cow, the Aunty, the Lying Lizard, the Tricky Traders, the Little Tin Soldiers, the Peons, Kettle Camp, the Travelling Refugee Circus - all recognisable, all to be pitied, all struggling to survive in a senseless world. Masilamani writes well, his descriptions evocative and authentic, his characters written with empathy. He presents both sides of a conflict realistically, in my opinion, and comes to the only possible conclusion, any human in their right mind can come to - there are NO winners - unless of course ‘money’ is the only parameter - and then arm dealers, the only ‘winners’.
This is a beautifully published hardcover with vividly graphic illustrations in yellow and red by Matthew Frame, short chapters ( never more than a couple of pages) and a humorous Review section that had me smiling. But this isn’t in my opinion a child-friendly book. The satire and sarcasm feel very adult and a certain understanding of conflict is assumed. Living as I do in India and being interested in the geo-political events in our region, and having a fairly decent understanding of the conflict mentioned in the book, it was easy for me to understand the symbolism and references. I’m not sure how much a person entirely unaware of the conflict will take away from this book, other than of course, the basic and universal devastation of war everywhere and anywhere. Certainly some specific nuances might be lost in my opinion.
Nevertheless, a cleverly written attempt at trying to explain an unpalatable subject with grace and objectivity. There are many quotable lines in the text and I especially liked those that compare numbers to colours…
“He knows that numbers are not yellow and loud. They don’t speed around. They don’t overpower you with their perfume (like pinks tend to do). He knows numbers to be polite and well mannered. They are his best friends in the village.”
And other concepts I loved, the Hot Gossip Well and the Question Tree which flowers with questions after the Monsoon - its first questions being, “ Is war a wholesale business? Is truth a refugee?” Questions still being asked to this day as we witness yet another conflict, still more refugees and another deluge of polite, well mannered numbers.
Recommended, although I think parents should read it with their children.
This is not exactly a book for children - perhaps high school age and above. But the context of the allegorical nature of the story won't be clear to most young people, I suspect. The narrative is an interesting story about life for a refugee or IDP in the midst of a war. When you read this you won't know if the setting is Yemen or Syria or Myanmar until you start seeing references to rupees and cricket. The story is meant to be set in Sri Lanka, but the idea that the war is called the Civil War of Lies and the geographical border devised during it is called the False Dividing Line means that the story resonates with so many different contexts. It's a sparse, but intriguing read. The illustrations are not as powerful as one usually can expect from a Tara publication.
This was in the adult section at New York Public Library, but the book is clear that it's meant for children, who probably won't understand it. Heck, half of it I didn't understand. It's obviously an allegory, but what is what specifically isn't clear to discern. It reminded me a lot of Samuel Beckett's Fizzles.
This book tells the story of Srilankan civil war against Tamils from a child’s perspective. When you read a cruel war story narrated by a child, the absurdity of war hits you.
Every character conveys the complexities of this political story so well. The constantly complaining cow and questioning tree are like echoes of a war-torn society’s victims.
I kept thinking why is this a children’s book. It has so many layers alluding to life of refugees. Brilliant story telling.
Satirical, confronting and deeply thought provoking. Great short read accompanied with beautiful pictures. I'll actually be taking some wisdom away from this one!
I wish I liked this book enough to rate it 5-stars as the topic is extremely important (the civil war in Sri Lanka and its toll on people, especially civilians) . I am glad that the author chose to write about it and I hope a lot of people will read the book and become more aware of this issue. Written in the form of a satiric allegory, I had mixed feelings reading it. I found much of it a bit too contrived and forced, and overall distracting from what is clearly a very sensitive topic. The parts I found most poignant/touching were the ones where the author simply conveyed people's emotions and how the war affected them in a straight forward manner, without resorting to symbolic characters and literary devices. Sometimes less IS more and I think in this case simple, more straight forward storytelling would have worked better...at least for me.