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Samir und Jonathan
Der Palästinenserjunge Samir lebt in einem von Israelis besetzten Dorf. Nach einem Fahrradunfall muß er in einem »Krankenhaus der Juden« operiert werden. Dort ist alles fremd für ihn, doch mit der Zeit entdeckt Samir, wie friedlich es in dem Krankenhaus zugeht. Und er schließt Freundschaft mit Jonathan. Gemeinsam träumen sie von einer besseren Welt.
NOMINIERT FÜR DEN DEUTSCHEN JUGENDLITERATURPREIS 1997, »LUCHS« (DIE ZEIT und RADIO BREMEN), »DIE BESTEN 7 BÜCHER FÜR JUNGE LESER«, AUSGEWÄHLT VON FOCUS UND DEUTSCHLANDRADIO, »PRIZE FOR CHILDREN'S AND YOUNG PEOPLE'S LITERATURE IN THE SERVICE OF TOLERANCE 1997«, UNESCO
NOMINIERT FÜR DEN DEUTSCHEN JUGENDLITERATURPREIS 1997, »LUCHS« (DIE ZEIT und RADIO BREMEN), »DIE BESTEN 7 BÜCHER FÜR JUNGE LESER«, AUSGEWÄHLT VON FOCUS UND DEUTSCHLANDRADIO, »PRIZE FOR CHILDREN'S AND YOUNG PEOPLE'S LITERATURE IN THE SERVICE OF TOLERANCE 1997«, UNESCO
192 pages, Hardcover
First published February 1, 1996
23 people are currently reading
344 people want to read
About the author
Daniella Carmi
9 books3 followersDaniella Carmi was born in Tel Aviv. She studied philosophy and communications at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem and writes drama, screenplays and books for adults, children and youth. Her y/a book, Samir and Yonatan, was awarded an Honorable Mention from UNESCO for Children and Young People's Literature in the Service of Tolerance (1997), the Berlin Prize for Best Children's Book in Translation (1997), the Silver Quill Award (Germany, 1997), the Batchelder Award for Best Translated Book by the American Library Association (2001), and the Italian WIZO Prize (2003). Carmi has also received first prize at The Acco Festival for her play Artane (1998), the Prime Minister's Prize twice (1999; 2010), the ACUM Prize (2002) and the Ramat Gan Prize for Where Do Grandpas Fly? (2015). In 2007, her story A Lady Hippopotamus on the Roof was performed at the Haifa Children's Theater Festival. Carmi has been nominated for the Astrid Lindgren Prize in 2008. Her books have been translated into 18 languages.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 72 reviews
September 1, 2019
Samir and Yonatan, Daniella Carmi’s novel for young people was first published in 1994 and was translated into English by Yael Lotan in 2000. Although firmly grounded in the realities of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, it is a fairly sophisticated, somewhat impressionistic piece, and there are scenes that border on the mystical. The book focuses on Samir, a young Arab boy from the Occupied West Bank, who ends up in a Jewish hospital after shattering his kneecap. He’d been riding his bike down a stairway, trying to be brave and daring like his dead brother, Fadi, who was gunned down by an Israeli soldier. Now Samir has been brought to “the Jews’ hospital” where he must wait until a special doctor can come from America to operate on him.
Samir receives pain medication, and some nights the nurses give him a sedative when he wakes up yelling. Suffering intermittent fever as he waits for his operation, he is confined to bed rest in a hospital room with several other children. There’s traumatized Razia, an Arab girl, whose drunken father struck her on the forehead. Golden-haired Ludmilla is a newly arrived Russian Jewish immigrant, who is having difficulty adapting to life in Israel. She either can’t or won’t eat, and she must receive nutrients intravenously. Hyperactive, taunting Tzahi cannot sit still, even though he’s encumbered with a catheter and urine bag, while the doctors try to figure out why he can’t pee normally. Tzahi knows that he scares Samir; he exults in the power he has over his timid roommate who understands Hebrew but seldom speaks. Samir’s fear intensifies when Tzahi’s brother, a soldier, comes to visit one afternoon. Though helmet-less, he wears his uniform and carries a rifle. Samir has spent most of his young life running from members of the IDF, but now his injury forces him to remain in a room with the enemy. The boy subsequently conflates this young soldier with the one who killed Fadi.
Finally, there is Yonatan. It’s unclear what’s wrong with him. His hand is immobilized in some sort of contraption, but the description of his thin fuzzy hair made me think he is possibly being treated for cancer. Samir develops a special relationship with this Orthodox Jewish boy, who is mostly silent and whose nose is in astronomy books the better part of the day. Yonatan comes alive at night when the stars can be viewed from the large hospital window. One night he says with a kind of a seriousness that amazes his new friend: “Your trouble, Samir, is that you’re always living in this world . . . There is another world . . . and you can divide your life between this world and that other one. Nobody ever said you have to pass your whole life only in this world, with everybody else. For example, if you run a fever you can simply slip away to the other world and live a good healthy life there.”
In the course of the novel, Carmi skillfully weaves details of Samir’s home life in the Occupied Territories. These details are mostly presented as flashbacks, memories, as Samir lies in his hospital bed. Sometimes, in a manner so characteristic of PTSD sufferers, the memories are triggered by the sights and sounds of the hospital. Samir recalls the night his brother’s body was brought home in a bloodied blanket. He thinks of his elder brother Bassam’s account of his time in jail, the Israeli jeeps moving down narrow Palestinian streets, the curfews, the power outages, the explosions, the death of a pet rabbit by tear gas, the blindness of his grandfather, and the defeated silence of his father. No one from home can even visit the boy in hospital because the roads are blocked, the territories are closed off, and no Arabs are being allowed through.
Carmi’s novel is rich, nuanced, dreamlike in sections, and . . . literary. Even though the characters, apart from the medical staff, are children, this book, in which a hospital room becomes a crucible for psychological change, is best suited to more sophisticated adolescent readers. It’s one of those books that merits a second reading. I certainly understand why it received the American Library Association’s Batcheldor Award, which “recognizes the publisher of the year's ‘most outstanding’ children's book translated into English and published in the U.S.” As I reflect on the novel, it grows on me more and more . . .
Samir receives pain medication, and some nights the nurses give him a sedative when he wakes up yelling. Suffering intermittent fever as he waits for his operation, he is confined to bed rest in a hospital room with several other children. There’s traumatized Razia, an Arab girl, whose drunken father struck her on the forehead. Golden-haired Ludmilla is a newly arrived Russian Jewish immigrant, who is having difficulty adapting to life in Israel. She either can’t or won’t eat, and she must receive nutrients intravenously. Hyperactive, taunting Tzahi cannot sit still, even though he’s encumbered with a catheter and urine bag, while the doctors try to figure out why he can’t pee normally. Tzahi knows that he scares Samir; he exults in the power he has over his timid roommate who understands Hebrew but seldom speaks. Samir’s fear intensifies when Tzahi’s brother, a soldier, comes to visit one afternoon. Though helmet-less, he wears his uniform and carries a rifle. Samir has spent most of his young life running from members of the IDF, but now his injury forces him to remain in a room with the enemy. The boy subsequently conflates this young soldier with the one who killed Fadi.
Finally, there is Yonatan. It’s unclear what’s wrong with him. His hand is immobilized in some sort of contraption, but the description of his thin fuzzy hair made me think he is possibly being treated for cancer. Samir develops a special relationship with this Orthodox Jewish boy, who is mostly silent and whose nose is in astronomy books the better part of the day. Yonatan comes alive at night when the stars can be viewed from the large hospital window. One night he says with a kind of a seriousness that amazes his new friend: “Your trouble, Samir, is that you’re always living in this world . . . There is another world . . . and you can divide your life between this world and that other one. Nobody ever said you have to pass your whole life only in this world, with everybody else. For example, if you run a fever you can simply slip away to the other world and live a good healthy life there.”
In the course of the novel, Carmi skillfully weaves details of Samir’s home life in the Occupied Territories. These details are mostly presented as flashbacks, memories, as Samir lies in his hospital bed. Sometimes, in a manner so characteristic of PTSD sufferers, the memories are triggered by the sights and sounds of the hospital. Samir recalls the night his brother’s body was brought home in a bloodied blanket. He thinks of his elder brother Bassam’s account of his time in jail, the Israeli jeeps moving down narrow Palestinian streets, the curfews, the power outages, the explosions, the death of a pet rabbit by tear gas, the blindness of his grandfather, and the defeated silence of his father. No one from home can even visit the boy in hospital because the roads are blocked, the territories are closed off, and no Arabs are being allowed through.
Carmi’s novel is rich, nuanced, dreamlike in sections, and . . . literary. Even though the characters, apart from the medical staff, are children, this book, in which a hospital room becomes a crucible for psychological change, is best suited to more sophisticated adolescent readers. It’s one of those books that merits a second reading. I certainly understand why it received the American Library Association’s Batcheldor Award, which “recognizes the publisher of the year's ‘most outstanding’ children's book translated into English and published in the U.S.” As I reflect on the novel, it grows on me more and more . . .
January 27, 2022
I saw this book at the library and was shocked: a Palestinian pov story written by an Israeli. I checked it out, braced myself, and got ready to rage. Except it isn't blatant, and I can't just chop it up to obvious hate, but that isn't to say that the 183 page middle school book should be shared and deemed harmless: it subtly minimizes the occupation of an entire people, it in many ways glosses over the apartheid taking place. It gives the inequity lip service, and I'm sure many western non Muslim, non Palestinian readers will find the book balanced, but I never could quite shake the looming shadow throughout, of trivializing the oppressive regime that is Israel. I don't know if the undermining is intentional, and I couldn't find anything with a Google search to see how the book was received by Israelis in 1994 when it was published (it was translated in 2000), but either way it provides a great example as to why OWN voice books are so much more powerful. This is not the oppressors' story to tell. I'm not saying the author isn't sympathetic to the Palestinian struggles or that she actively supports encroachment of Palestinian homes, I honestly don't know her stance. I do know that the lived experiences of Palestinians though, is best left to be told by people that live it, have lived it, and those that feel loss because of it. It is not a narrative to be told by the force that is causing the pain. My biggest worry is that readers will take away from the story that the situation isn't that bad, that Israelis are taking care of this poor injured Palestinian boy out of the goodness of their hearts so they must be nice, and at the end of the day the two sides are just two opposing forces, but the people once they get to know each other, bond over the fact that they pee the same and can be friends. It waters down that it is, and was, major international powers backing the Israelis and that it is not, nor has it ever been, a simple disagreement between two equal sides. No I don't expect every book about the region to detail the specifics, but don't tell me that killing of children, a life of checkpoints, curfews, and fear can all disappear over a few months when the "enemy" provides medical care, regular meals, and arts and craft times. I'm not Palestinian and I can see the short-sided reality of that real quick. It leaves young impressionable readers with a very skewed view, no matter how diplomatic the author attempts to be on the surface. And I cannot support it.
SYNOPSIS:
Palestinian boy Samir injures his leg in a bicycle accident, quite seriously, and his mother who cleans for an Israeli lawyer is able to get him a special permit to be taken to the Jew's hospital to be cared for by a visiting American surgeon. He speaks broken Hebrew, but understands quite a bit as he has worked in a Jewish grocery store in the past. When he gets to the hospital, he is placed in a room with other children to wait. He stays there for weeks until the doctor can arrive and then even after the procedure he stays for physical therapy for weeks before he can return home.
While he is there, he gets to observe and know, in some ways, the other patients. Yonatan is always buried in a book, but at night, when the other kids go to sleep he talks to Samir and plots with him a trip to Mars. Yonatan's mom lives in American, he lives with his dad who is an astronomy professor. He also ethically is a vegetarian and saves his kabobs and chicken from his meals to give to Samir. There is a girl that was hit by her father and refuses to see him, and one that is like a princess that doesn't like to eat. Tzahi wears a colostomy bag and is always jumping around and causing trouble. His brother is a paratrooper in the Israeli army and he hates Palestinians. It is hard for Samir when the brother comes to visit, the fear is real.
Samir's younger brother Fadi was recently killed by Israeli soldiers and the memory, horror, and anguish is still very fresh for Samir and his entire family.
WHY I LIKE IT:
At first I really couldn't articulate the saccharin taste the book was causing to form in my mouth as I read. The curfews, and check points and loss of Fadi was being discussed and contrasted to the luxury of the Israeli hospital, and then it began to occur to me that, it was almost worse than just being blatantly hateful. The placating and sugar coating slowly diminishes the horrors of reality. At the beginning Samir doesn't want to go to the hospital, he would rather have a limp, but the narrative slowly becomes about the kids in the hospital also have stressing and hard lives, and that seems sweet, except, their issues while specific, are universal. Samir's leg is as well, but the oppression of his people is systemic and helping him doesn't erase that the same people running the hospital killed his brother, dictate his reality, and his future opportunities. It is not enough for the "anti Palestinian child" to have a surgery that corrects his ability to urinate and at the very end, they pee in to the planters. It might work on the surface, but it trivializes too much. If Samir would have gotten to tell them about his life and his pains, and his experiences, and they would have accepted them as valid, maybe I could see bridges being built, but bonding over basic human functions, and celebrating that an Israeli boy finally talks to a Palestinian, isn't compassion, it is arrogance.
The only real positive takeaway I had of the book was that even in the tiniest human kindnesses Yonatan showed Samir it was something for Samir to contrast with his life long friendship with Adnan. That growth of realizing what makes a good friend was more humanizing and affectionate than any other storyline in the book.
FLAGS:
Murder, fear, harassment, oppression, bullying, teasing, violence, gun violence, abuse, talk of urinating, showering in front of others.
TOOLS FOR LEADING THE DISCUSSION:
No way, I will never have Palestinian children read about their life experiences from an Israeli person speaking through a Palestinian character.
SYNOPSIS:
Palestinian boy Samir injures his leg in a bicycle accident, quite seriously, and his mother who cleans for an Israeli lawyer is able to get him a special permit to be taken to the Jew's hospital to be cared for by a visiting American surgeon. He speaks broken Hebrew, but understands quite a bit as he has worked in a Jewish grocery store in the past. When he gets to the hospital, he is placed in a room with other children to wait. He stays there for weeks until the doctor can arrive and then even after the procedure he stays for physical therapy for weeks before he can return home.
While he is there, he gets to observe and know, in some ways, the other patients. Yonatan is always buried in a book, but at night, when the other kids go to sleep he talks to Samir and plots with him a trip to Mars. Yonatan's mom lives in American, he lives with his dad who is an astronomy professor. He also ethically is a vegetarian and saves his kabobs and chicken from his meals to give to Samir. There is a girl that was hit by her father and refuses to see him, and one that is like a princess that doesn't like to eat. Tzahi wears a colostomy bag and is always jumping around and causing trouble. His brother is a paratrooper in the Israeli army and he hates Palestinians. It is hard for Samir when the brother comes to visit, the fear is real.
Samir's younger brother Fadi was recently killed by Israeli soldiers and the memory, horror, and anguish is still very fresh for Samir and his entire family.
WHY I LIKE IT:
At first I really couldn't articulate the saccharin taste the book was causing to form in my mouth as I read. The curfews, and check points and loss of Fadi was being discussed and contrasted to the luxury of the Israeli hospital, and then it began to occur to me that, it was almost worse than just being blatantly hateful. The placating and sugar coating slowly diminishes the horrors of reality. At the beginning Samir doesn't want to go to the hospital, he would rather have a limp, but the narrative slowly becomes about the kids in the hospital also have stressing and hard lives, and that seems sweet, except, their issues while specific, are universal. Samir's leg is as well, but the oppression of his people is systemic and helping him doesn't erase that the same people running the hospital killed his brother, dictate his reality, and his future opportunities. It is not enough for the "anti Palestinian child" to have a surgery that corrects his ability to urinate and at the very end, they pee in to the planters. It might work on the surface, but it trivializes too much. If Samir would have gotten to tell them about his life and his pains, and his experiences, and they would have accepted them as valid, maybe I could see bridges being built, but bonding over basic human functions, and celebrating that an Israeli boy finally talks to a Palestinian, isn't compassion, it is arrogance.
The only real positive takeaway I had of the book was that even in the tiniest human kindnesses Yonatan showed Samir it was something for Samir to contrast with his life long friendship with Adnan. That growth of realizing what makes a good friend was more humanizing and affectionate than any other storyline in the book.
FLAGS:
Murder, fear, harassment, oppression, bullying, teasing, violence, gun violence, abuse, talk of urinating, showering in front of others.
TOOLS FOR LEADING THE DISCUSSION:
No way, I will never have Palestinian children read about their life experiences from an Israeli person speaking through a Palestinian character.
November 11, 2012
This tale--of a child growing up in a Palestinian village in Israel who must endure a stay in the "Jewish hospital" for surgery to his knee--was definitely written with an agenda. But it's an agenda that is admirable.
At times fanciful to the point of magical realism, and at other times harrowing, the book is targeted for children 11 and up to send a message of peace. I have been very, very disappointed by the books I have read on the Israel-Palestinian conflict (especially for that age range) in the past. This is definitely an improvement.
Samir and Yonatan differs from most books about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict in notable ways:
1) While written by an Israeli, it is told from the viewpoint of a Palestinian boy. His viewpoint is very limited by both his age and location. Yet, the book acknowledges his lack of experience and this is what expands over the course of the novel.
2) There's no attempt to say which side is right or wrong. Samir lives in terror of "Israeli Occupiers"--Jewish soldiers--but also fears "avengers"--Palestinians who are willing to punish other Palestinians who are rumored to have cooperated with the Israelis. The only Jewish people Samir has encountered are the soldiers who have invaded his privacy, and whom he blames for the death of his brother and numerous other family tragedies. When he meets other Jews, he is first afraid, then in shock to discover they are friendly. The book only describes the experience of children like Samir, as well as to convey the eventual message that children everywhere can live together in peace and affection if removed from their political entanglements.
3) The setting of the novel removes the children from their natural environment, allowing them to become distinct from their national attachments. The children aren't invested in news broadcasts, messages from teachers, or the anger vented by parents. They are only invested in each others' healing.
The pacing was too slow and meandering for my taste, but the translation from the original Hebrew maintains Samir's voice beautifully. I'm not so enthusiastic about the book as to recommend it strongly, but I don't recommend you stay away from it with a 9 foot pole either. In a book about this topic, that's saying a lot.
At times fanciful to the point of magical realism, and at other times harrowing, the book is targeted for children 11 and up to send a message of peace. I have been very, very disappointed by the books I have read on the Israel-Palestinian conflict (especially for that age range) in the past. This is definitely an improvement.
Samir and Yonatan differs from most books about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict in notable ways:
1) While written by an Israeli, it is told from the viewpoint of a Palestinian boy. His viewpoint is very limited by both his age and location. Yet, the book acknowledges his lack of experience and this is what expands over the course of the novel.
2) There's no attempt to say which side is right or wrong. Samir lives in terror of "Israeli Occupiers"--Jewish soldiers--but also fears "avengers"--Palestinians who are willing to punish other Palestinians who are rumored to have cooperated with the Israelis. The only Jewish people Samir has encountered are the soldiers who have invaded his privacy, and whom he blames for the death of his brother and numerous other family tragedies. When he meets other Jews, he is first afraid, then in shock to discover they are friendly. The book only describes the experience of children like Samir, as well as to convey the eventual message that children everywhere can live together in peace and affection if removed from their political entanglements.
3) The setting of the novel removes the children from their natural environment, allowing them to become distinct from their national attachments. The children aren't invested in news broadcasts, messages from teachers, or the anger vented by parents. They are only invested in each others' healing.
The pacing was too slow and meandering for my taste, but the translation from the original Hebrew maintains Samir's voice beautifully. I'm not so enthusiastic about the book as to recommend it strongly, but I don't recommend you stay away from it with a 9 foot pole either. In a book about this topic, that's saying a lot.
February 9, 2025
Das ist ein sehr tolles Buch! Man kann aus Kinderaugen Dinge lernen wie: Trauer, Angst, Freundschaft, Fantasie und Überwindungen.
Mein größtes Problem ist aber nicht der Inhalt an sich, sondern so ein Autor*innen Problem:
Weiße Person die versucht die Besetzung Israels aus der Sicht eines palästinischen Kindes zu erklären?
Also es tut so, als ob es ein POV Buch ist, aber eigentlich ist es nur die israelische Sicht auf die Situation.
Man kann mit dem Buch super mit Kindern über Tod und Fantasie und Angst sprechen, aber der ganze Konflikt wird nicht annähernd sinnvoll behandelt.
Mein größtes Problem ist aber nicht der Inhalt an sich, sondern so ein Autor*innen Problem:
Weiße Person die versucht die Besetzung Israels aus der Sicht eines palästinischen Kindes zu erklären?
Also es tut so, als ob es ein POV Buch ist, aber eigentlich ist es nur die israelische Sicht auf die Situation.
Man kann mit dem Buch super mit Kindern über Tod und Fantasie und Angst sprechen, aber der ganze Konflikt wird nicht annähernd sinnvoll behandelt.
February 15, 2009
Summary: Samir injures his knee and is sent to a Jewish hospital for surgery. While there, he meets the other kids in Room 6, all of whom are Jewish and all of whom he gets to know.
Response: This is a quiet and thoughtful novel, expressing the memories, hopes, and fears of a young Palestinian boy, and it is not a voice I have ever read before. The writing is respectful and honest, and it feels different from other young adult novels i have read, perhaps because it is not only about a life so different from mine, but because it is also translated into English. I feel like I really got to know Samir as he really got to know Yonatan, and I feel like I was privileged to be let in on their growing friendship.
CONTEMPORARY REALISTIC FICTION
Response: This is a quiet and thoughtful novel, expressing the memories, hopes, and fears of a young Palestinian boy, and it is not a voice I have ever read before. The writing is respectful and honest, and it feels different from other young adult novels i have read, perhaps because it is not only about a life so different from mine, but because it is also translated into English. I feel like I really got to know Samir as he really got to know Yonatan, and I feel like I was privileged to be let in on their growing friendship.
CONTEMPORARY REALISTIC FICTION
May 18, 2020
Por alguna razón, me encantó el personaje de Ludmila y como Samir siempre la relacionaba con una princesa de cuento de hadas.
April 1, 2017
Diversity & Inclusion
Carmi, Daniella. Samir and Yonatan. New York: Scholastic Signature, 2000 (translation copyright).
Samir, a Palestinian boy from the Occupied Territories has fractured his knee so badly that he is taken to the “Jews hospital” for a much needed surgery to repair it. His family is poor and unable to stay with him while he awaits the arrival of the American doctor who will operate on him. It will be weeks till he finally gets his operation, and in the meantime he is unsure of where he fits among the other four Jewish children in his ward: beautiful Ludmilla who refuses to eat, Razia who refuses to see her father for fear that he will strike her again, spoiled and hyperactive Tzahi whose brother is an Israeli Paratrooper, and Yonatan who is wiser beyond his years and always looking to the stars. Lonely and sad, Samir goes back in time in his thoughts and reminisces about his family. He thinks often about his dead younger brother Fadi who was killed by an Israeli soldier, his overworked mother, his blind grandfather, and his father who has stopped talking after Fadi’s death. More alone than ever, and surrounded by people he’s been raised to fear Samir aches for a human connection. So he is a bit surprised yet delighted when Yonatan begins talking to him late one night while the other children sleep and introduces him to the world of stars, imagination, and video games. But can it ever be possible, in the West Bank, for a poor Palestinian boy to truly become friends with a Jew?
In an understated tone, Carmi lets us in to the painful and violent word of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict through Samir’s eyes. We learn of the hardships, deaths, violence, hunger, fear, anger and pain that Samir’s family and neighbors have endured. The story is simple and readers are easily filled in on the events leading up to Samir’s stay in the hospital through flashbacks of his thoughts. The hospital, and the settings in Samir’s memories are richly described so readers can clearly envision the story as it unfolds. The characters are well developed and full of life, from quiet Yonatan who comes alive in the dark when the stars are out, to ill-behaved and snooty Tzahi who at the very end will surely surprise readers by the way in which he finally reaches out to Samir. Readers will connect with themes of family, friendship, loss, acceptance, healing, and belonging, especially upper elementary and middle school readers. Sincere, and in a voice seldom heard, some of the political and historical content in the text may not be fully understood by some readers. Carmi does touch on sensitive topics (conquered territories, Israeli raids, the woman who soldiers “visit at night”) and sprinkles the text with Hebrew, Arabic, and political terms. However, this adds authenticity to the narrative and helps drive the story, yet it is not such a big piece of the story that readers not mature enough to grasp the meaning of such details will get lost. Especially helpful in the back of the book is a glossary of terms. All in all, this is a a very good read that serves to remind us that we all share much more in common than meets the eye: “All of us here on earth are made of the same materials…All of us, Indians and French people, Africans and Russians, Jews and Arabs, Eskimos and Japanese—anyone you can think of!”
Target Audience: Ages 10-14
Awards: Batchelder Award (2001)
Carmi, Daniella. Samir and Yonatan. New York: Scholastic Signature, 2000 (translation copyright).
Samir, a Palestinian boy from the Occupied Territories has fractured his knee so badly that he is taken to the “Jews hospital” for a much needed surgery to repair it. His family is poor and unable to stay with him while he awaits the arrival of the American doctor who will operate on him. It will be weeks till he finally gets his operation, and in the meantime he is unsure of where he fits among the other four Jewish children in his ward: beautiful Ludmilla who refuses to eat, Razia who refuses to see her father for fear that he will strike her again, spoiled and hyperactive Tzahi whose brother is an Israeli Paratrooper, and Yonatan who is wiser beyond his years and always looking to the stars. Lonely and sad, Samir goes back in time in his thoughts and reminisces about his family. He thinks often about his dead younger brother Fadi who was killed by an Israeli soldier, his overworked mother, his blind grandfather, and his father who has stopped talking after Fadi’s death. More alone than ever, and surrounded by people he’s been raised to fear Samir aches for a human connection. So he is a bit surprised yet delighted when Yonatan begins talking to him late one night while the other children sleep and introduces him to the world of stars, imagination, and video games. But can it ever be possible, in the West Bank, for a poor Palestinian boy to truly become friends with a Jew?
In an understated tone, Carmi lets us in to the painful and violent word of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict through Samir’s eyes. We learn of the hardships, deaths, violence, hunger, fear, anger and pain that Samir’s family and neighbors have endured. The story is simple and readers are easily filled in on the events leading up to Samir’s stay in the hospital through flashbacks of his thoughts. The hospital, and the settings in Samir’s memories are richly described so readers can clearly envision the story as it unfolds. The characters are well developed and full of life, from quiet Yonatan who comes alive in the dark when the stars are out, to ill-behaved and snooty Tzahi who at the very end will surely surprise readers by the way in which he finally reaches out to Samir. Readers will connect with themes of family, friendship, loss, acceptance, healing, and belonging, especially upper elementary and middle school readers. Sincere, and in a voice seldom heard, some of the political and historical content in the text may not be fully understood by some readers. Carmi does touch on sensitive topics (conquered territories, Israeli raids, the woman who soldiers “visit at night”) and sprinkles the text with Hebrew, Arabic, and political terms. However, this adds authenticity to the narrative and helps drive the story, yet it is not such a big piece of the story that readers not mature enough to grasp the meaning of such details will get lost. Especially helpful in the back of the book is a glossary of terms. All in all, this is a a very good read that serves to remind us that we all share much more in common than meets the eye: “All of us here on earth are made of the same materials…All of us, Indians and French people, Africans and Russians, Jews and Arabs, Eskimos and Japanese—anyone you can think of!”
Target Audience: Ages 10-14
Awards: Batchelder Award (2001)
October 25, 2024
great! if you want to introduce propaganda to children and invalidate victims of a genocide and ethnic cleansing that has been going on for decades :)
also just tacky & poorly written in general. could benefit from some imagination and whimsy.
also just tacky & poorly written in general. could benefit from some imagination and whimsy.
April 26, 2012
This book takes place before that relative peace during the Clinton administration, representing a world very similar to the one of the conflict today. It also won the honorable mention for the UNESCO prize for Children’s Literature in the Service of Tolerance. The main character, a Palestinian named Samir, broke his knee falling off of a bike and has to stay in an Israeli hospital to await a specialist from America. The story is told in the first person and is also filled with remembrances of events from the past. At the beginning, Samir feels uncomfortable in the hospital, as the only Israelis he knows are the soldiers. This becomes evident when he meets his first male nurse and is surprised that he doesn’t look like a soldier, perhaps because he is smiling and nice. He remembers once asking his grandfather when watching news about battles in Yugoslavia which side was right, to which his grandfather replies, “you can be sure of one thing—everybody thinks he’s right." Though referring to a different battle, it can definitely be applied to the one in which he is surrounded. His father works as a barber, only his business doesn’t do well during the constant curfews; everyone has begun to cut their own hair, since none can work during curfews they don’t have the money for what is seen as a luxury. His acceptance with the other children in his room is jarred by one of the boys, Tzahi, who taunts him over his being Arabic, grinning at Samir’s fear when he learns that Tzahi’s brother is a soldier. It is Yonatan who is always trying to befriend him, talking to him about the stars when the lights have turned out. He is reminded of the trouble he normally lives in when his mother can’t come to visit him because the territories have been sealed off. He looks at his stay at the hospital as paradise—he has three meals a day, there are no raids, and when he hears a siren going by, it’s not a direct threat to him as it would be at home. In his moments of peace he wonders if this is how it always is for Jewish children and feels a sense of community with the other children. Here they are just kids, it doesn’t matter if they are Jewish or Arabic. However, it’s sad to hear a child say that you, “never know anymore where the bullet will find you… and you don’t know if it’s the soldiers, or the avengers, or soldiers pretending to be Arabs." We find out later that this is how his brother Fadi died, being shot by the soldiers when he couldn’t get away.
The story, though, is most about Samir’s coming to the realization that despite the war, and despite all of the tragic reminders of how difficult life is back home, they are all really the same. Yonatan tells him this scientifically at one point, “all of us here on earth are made of the same materials. We all contain water, carbon, calcium, iron, protein, and some other stuff." This is a story of hope for the next generation, as well as pointing to the necessity of Palestinians and Israelis coming into contact in everyday situations to encourage friendship as well as an understanding of the other’s point of view. This would be most appropriate for children from about third grade to middle school age.
The story, though, is most about Samir’s coming to the realization that despite the war, and despite all of the tragic reminders of how difficult life is back home, they are all really the same. Yonatan tells him this scientifically at one point, “all of us here on earth are made of the same materials. We all contain water, carbon, calcium, iron, protein, and some other stuff." This is a story of hope for the next generation, as well as pointing to the necessity of Palestinians and Israelis coming into contact in everyday situations to encourage friendship as well as an understanding of the other’s point of view. This would be most appropriate for children from about third grade to middle school age.
October 3, 2016
Very good book about how the modern war on terrorism in the Middle East has ravaged the lives of those living within the target countries. A amazing emotional story about how a boy, heartbroken by the war, must learn to live surrounded with people who he knows nothing about and possibly the very relatives of those who killed his brother. Later on into his recovery, he begins to learn more about the characters and personalities of the very people who occupy the hospital room. Throughout the story, he begins to trust one of them, a smart and distorted boy named Yonatan. The ending sees these two be transported via technology to a paradise where there is no war and peace prevails. Overall, a gripping and heart-wrenching book that is certain to make one realize how dreadful humanity is.
May 4, 2017
I think there's a hidden agenda in this book.
December 13, 2017
Daniella Carmi's narrator in this novel is about 12 with a broken knee that needs surgery. He is also from Palestine, and his surgery will have to be in a Jewish hospital. She takes this setting to explore the history and losses of his family, his fear of the Israeli military, his homesickness for parents who cannot come to visit, and his growing understanding of the other kids in his room. The theme of the oneness of human beings--and of the universe--is articulated by Yonatan, another patient whose dad teaches astronomy: "All of us here on earth are made of the same materials. We all contain water, carbon, calcium, iron, protein, and some other stuff....All the other living things on earth, they're also made up of the same materials, only arranged differently....Yes, you and me, Samir, we're made of stardust." This shows up in an earthier way at the end as two boys, one from Palestine and one from Israel, pee together in a sandbox, side by side. I thought this novel was well imagined and the narrative voice was believable, and the peace work that went on in the hospital room was not overly idealized. If we knew we were all patients in the same cosmic hospital, perhaps we would care for each other differently and better.
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April 4, 2020Winner of the 2001 Batchelder Award for best translated novel, this is the story of Samir, a young Palestinian boy, who is sent to a Jewish hospital to wait for an American surgeon to repair his knee. In a room with four Jewish children and surrounded by Jewish staff, Samir is initially afraid to speak. Yonatan, the boy in the bed next to his, talks to Samir about the stars and the planets, and helps Samir to slowly adjust to his new environment. Tzahi is another patient in the room, who either ignores Samir or taunts him with stories about his brother, an Israeli soldier. Readers learn that Samir’s younger brother was shot and killed while playing the street by a man wearing the same uniform that Tzahi’s brother wears when he visits.
March 18, 2021
This young adult book held a powerful message of how friendship can overcome deep seated fear, anger, even hatred between a Palestinian child and Israeli children in a Hebrew hospital in Israel. The main character Samir is the Palestinian child who not only has lost a brother in a street shooting by an Israeli gunmen but his own leg it is supposed in the same or a similar attack. Without the ability to understand the words and behaviors of the children in his hospital unit, Samir gradually sees the humanity in all of these children instead of enmity. One child, Yonatan, shares a glorious world of space with Samir that helps him overcome his fear of the surgery he is to undergo as well as other fears and unpleasantness in his life.
December 6, 2020
This book’s title is Samir and Youatan. This book was not written in the United States so, it had to be translated into English. The author is Daniella Carmi. The main character is Samir. Samir has just lost his brother and is not done grieving the loss. I would say the plot of the story is when Samir is riding his bike down a flight of stairs and shatters his leg and has to be taken to the hospital. This book was like a window for me because I have never lost a family member and so I don’t know how that is. This book won the Mildred Batchelder Award and that is why I would try to have it in my future classroom I really enjoyed it.
June 3, 2017
This book which is for people (kids) much younger than me does a great of humanizing the issues in the Gaza Strip while putting a face on the children that are living through it. The writing is simple and eloquent. The friendship that develops between Samir and Yonatan is precious despite the inevitable end to it.
August 31, 2018
A good way to introduce the situation in Palestine without it being too hard hitting. Carmi manages to insert information about Samir's life and situation in a subtle but compelling way. His connections with the other children in the hospital ward is believable and I really like how Yonatan and him develop a strong bond.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 25, 2021
I wish they'd tell you at the beginning that there is a glossary in the back. Anyways, I read this book to see if I should keep it in my library (already discarded by the local middle school.) I learn more about what it would have been like to live at that time, but I feel it is too confusing for a young reader. It probably read better before being translated, but it still was just "weird."
August 25, 2018
Maybe the translation is my stumbling block? Reading the book as an adult, I saw through the children, the theme of understanding and the developing discovery that all people have the same physical make-up. I found it well written. The voice of Samir was honest and heart rending.
However, the relationships between the children seemed forced.
I have no idea how a young child might perceive this book. Understanding the author's lean writing requires background knowledge that most children might not have? I don't know. For a child to even begin to understand the message one needs to give the child reader some prep. Great book for discussion and as a first peek at how a book invites personal interpretations.
However, the relationships between the children seemed forced.
I have no idea how a young child might perceive this book. Understanding the author's lean writing requires background knowledge that most children might not have? I don't know. For a child to even begin to understand the message one needs to give the child reader some prep. Great book for discussion and as a first peek at how a book invites personal interpretations.
February 7, 2018
i really liked this book because it was my style.
the special part i liked was when Yonatan showed Samir the video game to mars and they made a lake and Samir prayed for his brother Fadi.
the special part i liked was when Yonatan showed Samir the video game to mars and they made a lake and Samir prayed for his brother Fadi.
June 11, 2018
YA story about children in a hospital who become friends tho' from different cultures.
August 7, 2018
2 1/2 stars. Not terrible, but slow-moving and slightly confusing at times. Perhaps a translation issue? I loved the idea of it, but not the execution.
January 13, 2021
That's really nice somewhat kid's book for adults. To see life from narratives of Samir and his understanding of life and in region he lives.
May 21, 2021
An interesting perspective from a Palestinian boy in a Jewish hospital offer insight to their world. While a battle goes on in Gaza today, this story is so real!
April 8, 2024
A perfect ending
December 31, 2016
A slow, comfortable read that takes you through a day by day hospital stay that results in the forming of friendships that transcend cultural barriers.
July 29, 2017
Samir and Yonatan left something in translation.
Israeli-born author, Daniella Carmi, produces a middle-grade story about a Palestinian boy, Samir, facing who he sees as the enemy--the Jews--while in an Israeli hospital on the West Bank. From that blurb, it sounds like a live wire of conflict and interest, but it falls flat on delivery.
The narrative mainly takes place in a hospital ward occupied by Samir and four Jewish children. This grows tedious with the daily activities of each kid. I wish the setting had been fleshed out more, especially the time. Was this during the Intifada? The Yugoslavian civil war is mentioned and Samir’s brother is fighting in Kuwait, but unless you know those “sign posts,” as I doubt many American middle schoolers do, you’d be lost.
I think much of these issues come down to the cultural divide, more than a translation issue. While the author didn’t come out for a particular side, she also didn’t drive home the message of peace. Saying “everyone is made of the same stuff” is sort of a cop-out when Samir is still blaming the Jews for his brother’s death. The resolution is too simple.
With all that said, I was pleased that the Israeli-Palestinian conflict was shown from the latter perspective. I just wish that the narrative had gone further to show both sides outside the hospital walls.
Israeli-born author, Daniella Carmi, produces a middle-grade story about a Palestinian boy, Samir, facing who he sees as the enemy--the Jews--while in an Israeli hospital on the West Bank. From that blurb, it sounds like a live wire of conflict and interest, but it falls flat on delivery.
The narrative mainly takes place in a hospital ward occupied by Samir and four Jewish children. This grows tedious with the daily activities of each kid. I wish the setting had been fleshed out more, especially the time. Was this during the Intifada? The Yugoslavian civil war is mentioned and Samir’s brother is fighting in Kuwait, but unless you know those “sign posts,” as I doubt many American middle schoolers do, you’d be lost.
I think much of these issues come down to the cultural divide, more than a translation issue. While the author didn’t come out for a particular side, she also didn’t drive home the message of peace. Saying “everyone is made of the same stuff” is sort of a cop-out when Samir is still blaming the Jews for his brother’s death. The resolution is too simple.
With all that said, I was pleased that the Israeli-Palestinian conflict was shown from the latter perspective. I just wish that the narrative had gone further to show both sides outside the hospital walls.
February 11, 2013
Short & Sweet: Samir is a Palestinian boy who has broken his kneecap and must stay in a Jewish hospital until the American doctor can come and perform surgery. Surrounded by kids that are Jewish, he finds that they are not so much different from him. Samir constantly blames himself for his brother's death and he must find a way to heal himself and his leg before he can go home. This novel is a beautifully written story of a boy growing up in an ongoing war zone. Samir is internally struggling with the death of his younger brother and the reader can feel what Samir is feeling throughout this novel. The characters in this book stand out, especially when seen through Samir's eyes, who is a quiet observer in this novel.
Final Verdict: This novel should be in every middle school collection. It definitely gives a point of view on the struggles between Israel and Palestine along with dealing with the loss of a family member.
Final Verdict: This novel should be in every middle school collection. It definitely gives a point of view on the struggles between Israel and Palestine along with dealing with the loss of a family member.
June 2, 2015
This is the first book I've read about life in occupied Palestine - West Bank, and I enjoyed learning something new. I liked learning about Samir through his memories of his friends and family. I loved his English "magic" words and how he tried to help the "princess". I enjoyed seeing the relationships of the children in the hospital wing and how they cared for each other.
Carmi shows the differences in how the Palestinians live compared to the Jewish. She captures the loss of hope and meaning in the life of Samir's father and grandfather - and their sorrow in losing a child.
I liked the characterizations of Adnan and Tzahi - little trouble makers.
Although this is a short little book, there is a lot to make one think about the world and why we war. I loved when Yonatan tells Samir that people are all made of the same stuff and that all scientists are dependent on the discoveries that came before them. We need each other as a human family. I wish war could end for all.
Carmi shows the differences in how the Palestinians live compared to the Jewish. She captures the loss of hope and meaning in the life of Samir's father and grandfather - and their sorrow in losing a child.
I liked the characterizations of Adnan and Tzahi - little trouble makers.
Although this is a short little book, there is a lot to make one think about the world and why we war. I loved when Yonatan tells Samir that people are all made of the same stuff and that all scientists are dependent on the discoveries that came before them. We need each other as a human family. I wish war could end for all.
March 23, 2013
Samir is a young Palestinian boy, terrified by the idea of being sent to an Israeli hospital for treatment. Already tormented by the difficult situation in his home village and the death of his brother, he now will have to share a room with children who he was taught to consider "the enemy". In the course of his stay, he experiences healing to both body and soul. I had never read a children's book addressing this difficult conflict and appreciated that the author did not point fingers or offer easy solutions. She rather lets the children speak - the adults are mostly out of the picture. While I enjoyed this very different reading experience, I had at times my doubts whether the pacing of the story would hold younger readers' attention. A book that invites discussions - and therefore maybe a good book to consider for literature circles (G5 and above).
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