52 pages • 1 hour read
Words on Fire
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Themes
Embracing and Defending One’s Culture and Identity
Lithuania has a long and complicated history with its neighboring countries; shifting borders and several occupations have meant that its people have had to preserve their cultural identity for centuries. Through Audra’s character, Nielsen explores what it means for a child to think critically about their identity and determine what they are willing to do to protect it.
Audra grows up speaking Lithuanian at home with her parents but cannot risk speaking it in public for fear of punishment by the Cossack soldiers. From an early age, she learns that fear is a powerful tool to subdue people; the threat of being beaten, arrested, or deported keeps many Lithuanians from speaking out against the Russian government. With such a widespread force constantly reminding Lithuanians that they are all “Russians now,” and that their stories, traditions, and churches will be eradicated, Audra struggles to see how “a small country of farmers and simple peasant folk” can stand up “against such a vast empire” (3).
Without her parents’ guidance or influence, Audra must decide for herself how much she values her Lithuanian identity and to what lengths she will go to keep it. The more she learns from Lukas, Ben, and Milda about her country’s history and its legacy of freedom fighters, the more she understands her place in the broader collective. Despite her sheltered upbringing, Audra finds herself surrounded by dangerous risk-takers who teach her that the safe choice is not always the right one, and if no one fights for Lithuanian culture, there will be no Lithuania left: “If we were forced to speak a language that was not our own, then how long could we hold onto thoughts that were our own? [...] If we failed to deliver books, then the collapse of Lithuania was only a generation away” (169).
Assimilating is certainly the easier, safer option, and the peace that assimilation promises makes it even more tempting. However, Lukas reminds Audra through a story in which the snake symbolizes Russia that “‘the moment [Lithuanians] start to choose what’s easy or safe, instead of choosing what’s right, [they] start to become like the snake’” (137). Being half-Russian, Lukas knows how much easier his life would be if he dismissed his Lithuanian side, but he is unwilling to lose that part of himself. Audra and Lukas witness the extreme costs of this fight—violence, suffering, arrest, deportation, and even death—but they decide the consequence of their inaction—the complete erasure of Lithuanian identity—is too great not to try.
Knowledge as Power and Resistance
Occupying forces like the Imperial Russian government know the power that words can have on people; press bans and language suppression have historically been used as tools to suppress minority groups. These forced assimilations aim to ban language, culture, history, and tradition so that ancestral knowledge becomes completely erased—leaving a future generation ignorant of who they are other than loyal subjects of the governing power. To read is to think, and to think is to question, which oppressive systems cannot encourage if they want to remain in control. Audra and her fellow book carriers demonstrate the integral role that information and literacy have in resisting assimilation.
Sheltered by her remote family farm, Audra is illiterate, has never attended school, and cannot imagine a life beyond her family’s property. She is obedient and unquestioning, describing herself as “a leaf that fluttered onto the water where even the breeze wouldn’t notice [her]” (8). Without outside knowledge, Audra is the epitome of the Lithuanian proverb at the start of the novel: “To be without learning is to be without eyes” (i). She does not see the true significance of the Lithuanian books or why the carriers are risking so much to distribute them. Only when she starts learning how to read does she learn that “[words] weren’t simply a formation of letters to identify an object or an action” (148) but rather seeds that become beliefs that “begin to change the world” (108). Reading unlocks fictional worlds of adventure and historical accounts of Lithuania thriving under its own rule and future imaginings of what that might look like again. These imaginings bring forth another meaning to the title phrase of Words on Fire: excitement and passion, in this case, for an independent Lithuania.
Minority groups like Lithuanians trying to stand up to strong military forces like the Imperial Russian army usually do not have the means to overpower their oppressors with armed force. However, they can cultivate a unified national identity more subtly by sharing books and mobilizing newspaper articles. As Lukas explains to Audra, by delivering a book to someone, Audra “will give someone knowledge, and with that knowledge, [she’ll] give them greater power in their life” (80). Instead of rifles, the Lithuanians can use words as their weapons to fight Russification (104). Audra further learns that the words and books are not just weapons but independence itself. Freedom of speech and freedom of the press mean that people have the “freedom to think, to believe, to dream” (109). The believers of an independent Lithuania eventually manifest their dream when the press ban lifts and Lithuania declares itself a free nation. The book carriers were crucial in sustaining the momentum of the resistance.
Justice Under Oppressive Systems
Good versus evil is a classic and pervasive theme in literature, especially in children’s’ stories. While this basic conflict is underlying the main narrative of Words on Fire, Nielsen suggests that there is room for nuance. When Audra enters the book-carrying world, she learns that especially under corrupt systems, the legal system does not always facilitate justice.
Audra is initially hesitant to accept a Lithuanian book from Lukas, having been taught that they are illegal and should be avoided. Lukas is the first to remind Audra, who has always followed the laws to stay safe, that “just because [something is] a law, does not make it right” (104). Over time, Audra begins to understand that obeying the Russian laws might ensure her safety but can cost her true freedom.
Justice in occupied Lithuania is inverted: Respected people, like clergy and local leaders, must do bad things for the greater good. It shocks Audra to see that “men who preached of honesty and obedience on the Sabbath day would spend the other days of the week breaking the law and encouraging others to do the same” (103); she sees the priests facilitating the book smuggling as contradictory to their piousness, when in reality, they are protecting Lithuanians’ access to church and their identities. Meanwhile, even though the Cossack soldiers enforce laws they believe to be right, they abuse their power to an extreme degree—proving that laws can be used to excuse cruel violence. As many small components in a larger system, it is easy for the soldiers to justify their actions as upholding the law, which minimizes the personal responsibility they feel for their actions.
Justice in occupied Lithuania also is heavy-handed and brutal because the Russification of Lithuania requires the Russians to break the will of the Lithuanian people. In response to the resistance, houses and books are burned, children are whipped, and people are drowned to enact justice on behalf of Imperial Russia. Typical of occupying forces, the Russian soldiers believe their cause is righteous and act with impunity. Officer Rusakov, for example, shows no remorse for destroying Venska and even promises Audra to “bring fire and punishment” (183) wherever he finds smugglers. For most of the novel, he is ruthless and relentless. In a twist near the novel’s end, however, Rusakov—dismissed from the army for being too heavy-handed in carrying out his orders—has lost his agency as a tormentor of the book smugglers, which enables his concern for his son to rise to the surface in Kražiai massacre. By choosing to ignore his previous convictions and save Audra from a fellow soldier, Nielsen uses Rusakov to show that regardless of one’s past actions, a person can always do what is right, even if that choice is difficult and goes against everything they used to believe in.
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By Jennifer A. Nielsen
