City of Orphans

.“Anyway, Maks ain’t supposed to call for help. Kids’ doings—good or bad—are just for kids.”

A nod to the old adage, “A child should be seen, not heard,” the author establishes the place of children in this society. They are to be not only silent, but invisible.

“Even the air is crowded. Crisscrossing telephone lines make the smokey sky look like ruled paper.”

Two sentences succinctly describe urban life at the turn of the century. The air is polluted, and smog makes the air feel thick. The telephone lines exemplify the modernity weaving into city life.

“[...] she is probably just arrived in America, one of them immigrants pouring off that new Ellis Island—what Maks and his pals call ‘greenhorns’.”

Maks assumes Willa is an immigrant because she is sleeping on the street, illuminating the pervasiveness of homelessness in the immigrant population. Ironically, Maks does not see himself as the same although he and Willa have many commonalities. The terms “greenhorn” refers to a person lacking experience or maturity, and Maks clearly has yet to discover that months on the street have endowed Willa with far more life experience than he has in many ways.

“See, these days, people live on the streets and sidewalks as much as in their small rooms.”

Urban life is a strain for lower-class residents. Crowded tenements provide little more comfort than life on the street. Unemployment rates skyrocketed to unprecedented levels after the Great Panic, leaving many destitute and without a home.

“Ceiling covered with pressed tin, bulging in a few places.”

The tin ceiling, wood floor, and peeling walls are all reminders of the lower-class living standard. Maks’s tenement building’s shabby, bedraggled appearance mirrors the mood of its residents.

“Couple of the buildings have them newfangled iron fire escapes, already draped with clothes that like old drippy wax.”

Employing figurative language in the form of a simile, the author compares the laundry to drippy wax. This sensory image depicts city life by appealing to the reader’s sense of sight and touch.

“You can smell the foods people are eating too. Bacon on the second floor. Bread on the third. Potatoes on the fourth. Get it? The higher the floor, the cheaper the eats. Same for rents.”

Maks winds his way through the levels of his tenement describing the progression from expensive pork to the more economical oats, the historic food of the poor, revealing a stratification even in his social class. The type of food families eat is indicative of their economic condition. It is ironic that the cheaper apartments are on the top floor, as that idea has reversed in the modern era, when top-floor penthouses with the best views go for the highest price.

“Two paper pictures stuck to them. One is of Queen Louise of Denmark- Emma found it somewhere. The other is a chromo of President Lincoln, which Maks got from some ward heeler for Election Day.”

The narrator here, in a detailed description of the Geless home, stops to point out this detail symbolizing the struggle for the family to fully assimilate to American culture. The photo of the Queen represents their roots in Denmark, and the one of Lincoln represents their present reality.

“Ryker got a new name.”

Jacob shares this news with the family at the end of the school day. The teacher’s insistence on Ryker’s name change to something more “American” illustrates the discrimination faced by immigrants during this era. Americans sometimes had little patience for the culture, customs, or language of those immigrating from other countries.

“Maks wishes he were bold, but he don’t know what ‘intrepid’ means.”

As Maks listens to Zulot read from the detective story, he fantasizes about one day living a life of excitement and meaning. Intrepid means courageous and fearless. Though he does not realize it yet, after his actions to save his sister and the entire family, he will come to fully embody this term.

“Whenever someone in a uniform or a boss tells my parents to do something, they just do it. As if they never left Denmark.”

Maks speaks to the plight of his family and other immigrants—how they are shoved around by people in power and left with little to no choice in their daily lives or destinies. This situation leads to false accusations and imprisonment such as Emma’s.

“Lots of whiskered men in dark suits sporting derbies or fedoras on their heads. Women in long dresses with high collars and feathered, flowery, wide-brimmed hats.”

Avi distills a vision of pre-Jazz Age New York with the vivid descriptions of the wardrobes of the wealthy. The hats are of particular significance as they invoke quintessential images of popular fashion of the day. For the ladies, the elaborate hats were a sign of great wealth.

“The foremen, there are a few of ’em walking ‘bout the floor-bark at workers, praising ‘em or pointing out mistakes, urging everyone to work faster, reminding ’em that they make their money by the number of shoes they turn out each day.”

The author takes the reader inside a factory and right onto the assembly line, illustrating the harsh, unforgiving life of a factory worker. No care is given to the quality of the product or the well-being of the worker. All that matters is the bottom line.

“[...] in this city, innocence costs. Justice costs more.”

Bartleby Donck seeks to restore the rights afforded all Americans in the Constitution through criminal justice reform. He is fighting an uphill battle as his city is mired in systemic corruption and a bribe is the only way to accomplish anything substantial.

“In the gray wet, the only bright spots are red lamps—like bloodshot eyes—set on the streetlight posts so people can find fire-alarm boxes.”

The author makes multiple mentions of streetlamps throughout the novel. Often key characters have moments of revelation while standing in their light. Here the light takes on a somber personification. Bloodshot eyes are tired, inflamed orifices, an affliction city dwellers and factory workers would suffer whether from urban pollution or poorly ventilated factories. The reference to a fire alarm also calls to mind a specific danger of crowded city life, as building fires was common.

“Willa, there’s so much that’s different here. And it’s hard when your children know more than you do.”

In a moment of vulnerability, Mama expresses her personal struggle to integrate fully into life in America. So much of her life experience and cultural context come from Denmark. It is easier for young children to transition to a new culture and language. This makes Mama feel incompetent and unable to relate to her children.

“It’s like the elevator he was on—only instead of going up and down, it’s going flat. City lights whiz by as fast as shooting stars.”

Maks’s first ride on the elevated train is exhilarating. The author uses figurative language in the form of a simile to compare the city moving by him to celestial beings. He feels transported to another world.

“It’s a free country. Stand where I want.”

Bruno has reached his limit with those in authority over him and exclaims this in frustration to a police officer. However, this declaration is ironic in the larger scope of the narrative. Although immigrants came to America hoping to find freedom, they found instead that freedom often comes at a cost, and it is most often those at the lowest levels of society that pay the heftiest toll.

“Everything is slow. Everything ’cept time.”

Time, or lack thereof, is a recurring motif in the novel. Maks worries it is taking too long to solve Emma’s case and that time is working against them.

“People—the rich people—the hotel people, everybody—back away, retreat, as if something awful is coming at them. Something they don’t like. Something bad.”

Bruno’s forced entry into the hotel lobby leaves the patrons shocked and horrified. They are protected from seeing the dregs of society struggling for survival. Now that struggle has come to their doorstep, and they do not have the privilege of looking away or retreating to their wealth.

“Her face is gray as the city sky, and all tight with pain.”

Willa’s grief over the loss of her father is compared to the polluted sky. This grief is as murky as the weather. Willa did not love him, yet she desired an explanation for his abandonment, and his murder has robbed her of that chance. 

“[...] being innocent and being free—two different things.”

After Emma’s trial and exoneration, the family is relieved and overjoyed. Maks is the only family member who never doubted her innocence. He recognizes the injustice of her situation and that no one in America, especially immigrants, is truly free. 

“Your Honor, it was my friend Bartleby Donck.”

In a heartening moment, Packwood’s devotion to his friend is made clear. In giving him complete credit for solving the case, he legitimizes all the unseen work Donck has done over the years.