Many of Kimberly Brubaker Bradley’s books serve as compelling time machines, immersing young readers in riveting dramas as history unfolds across the pages of her stories. The Night War (Dial, 2024) is the latest of Bradley’s middle grade novels to be set against the backdrop of World War II, although in a different part of the world than her bestselling, Newbery Honor-winning The War That Saved My Life (Dial, 2015). The Night War is the story of twelve-year-old Miri who escapes the Nazi roundup of her entire Jewish neighborhood in Paris, and then takes on an assumed identity in small-town France. Miri also crosses paths with a famous ghost—an intriguing element that Bradley notes, “makes this book quite different from my others.”
Here, Bradley talks about documenting history, writing honest books, and helping young readers identify bias.
What inspired you to write The Night War?
Miri’s story came to me in two parts: First, while wandering through Chenonceau [a French castle] somewhat by chance with my husband and son, I kept feeling like I was being followed by the ghost of Catherine de Medici. When I said so, my son laughed and told me I don’t write ghost books. But the idea stuck with me. Catherine is a very interesting historical figure. When you dig into her early life, you see so much trauma and how it affected her later when she was doing all she could to maintain the power she’d acquired. The second part of the story came while I was touring Yad Vashem, the World Holocaust Remembrance Center, in Israel. Much of that museum is devoted to the build-up of antisemitism that led to the concentration camps. I was horrified to see how my own faith, Catholicism, deliberately fed antisemitism throughout time, while also reading about the extraordinary efforts of some French Catholic individuals who saved Jewish children by hiding them in the ubiquitous Catholic boarding schools of the time. Then I learned that Chenonceau itself had been a highly guarded gateway to freedom into Vichy France. Put all that together, and I had the building blocks of a novel.
I became completely committed once I visited Paris’s Shoah Memorial. With the help of one of their librarians, I was able to compile the list that’s in the afterword of the book—the names of children who went to Miri’s school (which still operates as a public school to this day)—who went into the Velodrome d’Hiver and were murdered. Four thousand one hundred fifteen Jewish children, most of them born in Paris and some only a few weeks old, were taken in that roundup, and we know of six who survived the war. But knowing the specific names of children from a specific school who died—that made it all more real to me. Try reading those names out loud, and you’ll understand.
One of the reasons The Night War is so compelling is because it offers examples of how everyday people can shape history. Can you offer some additional thoughts about that?
History is actually happening around us all the time. My daughter-in-law pointed out to me the other day that the Stonewall Riots, which led to the beginnings of civil rights for LGBTQIA people, happened within my lifetime. I don’t feel old, but she was right—history was happening before my eyes whether I realized it or not. History is always everyday people. There are all sorts of places where you can go back in time and wonder, “What if this didn’t happen?” and in some of those cases, the world would be unimaginably different. (What if Hitler had gotten into art school?) But part of the problem is that we never know ahead of time which moments will be pivotal; which will turn out to be truly important.
In June of 1940, the British and French armies were pressed against the coastline of France by German troops. They were overwhelmed; they couldn’t fight their way out. And at that part of the coast, the water was too shallow to allow big troop ships to come anywhere near land. So, thousands of small ships from the British side rushed to the soldiers’ aid. The smallest was hardly bigger than a rowboat—I’ve seen it—and its owner took it across twenty miles of heavy seas under enemy fire to rescue stranded soldiers. In the end, ordinary people with boats saved 330,000 soldiers. It was a turning point in the war. It was a huge defeat for the Allies—the Germans were now in control of all of France—but the armies lived to fight again, and ordinary people knew they were the key to it. I think it shaped the British people and their commitment to fight in a way that swayed the war.
There are all sorts of places where you can go back in time and wonder, ‘What if this didn’t happen?’ and in some of those cases, the world would be unimaginably different.”
The Night War also addresses the idea that there’s a difference between something being “illegal” and it being “morally wrong.” How do you think young readers grapple with that kind of complex concept?
Oh, my readers get it. They’re very tuned in to fairness and justice. When I present this book in schools, I spend some time explaining the historical origins of antisemitism—how the early Christians weren’t allowed, by their religion and by laws based on that religion, to charge interest on loans, but how loans were still necessary to run kingdoms. Jewish people were also not usually allowed to own land in European countries (it changed from time to time, of course, as the rules and countries continually shifted), but they could legally and morally loan money at interest. So very powerful Christian rulers would borrow money from Jewish bankers. But the rulers had all the power. In the schools, I’ll say, “Now, I’m the king, and I don’t really want to pay this money back.” I once had a student shout at me, “It doesn’t matter what you want! You have to!” I say, “No, I don’t. I make the rules. And I’ll tell you what, I don’t want those Jewish people in my kingdom anymore.” And the kids get it. When they’re taught the truth of what actually happens in history, it absolutely opens their eyes to social justice and antiracism. That’s part of why honest books are so important.
Kids get it. When they’re taught the truth of what actually happens in history, it absolutely opens their eyes to social justice and antiracism. That’s part of why honest books are so important.”
The Night War puts forward the idea that the history we’re taught doesn’t usually tell the whole story. Do you have advice for young readers about how to avoid falling prey to bias?
The first step is to understand that bias exists, always and everywhere. I have a great college history professor to thank for my understanding here. I took a class on Europe in the Age of Migration, 330-1066—honestly not the most interesting time—but friends told me the professor was not to be missed. His name was Lester K. Little. On our very first day, he told us he was going to give us an overview of what we’d be learning in class. He told this dramatic story of the flourishing Roman civilization being overrun by barbarian invaders and we were all frantically taking notes. Then, exactly halfway through the class, he paused, smiled gently, and said, “Everything I’ve just told you is a lie.” And he proceeded to give us the same lecture over again from the opposite point of view: the decadent city of Rome, long decaying, the vigorous young explorers who breathed new life into a country. It was incredible. It changed my understanding of how history is told forever.
I think one of the things we must do is ask how any story would look if it was told by the other side. And if there’s one narrative we keep getting over and over, we need to ask, “Who benefits because the story is told this way?” It’s usually the people in power.
One of the things we have to do is ask how any story would look if it was told by the other side.”
What is your research process like? What advice do you have for young writers who are doing research for their own reports or stories?
I am lucky in that I get to travel a lot. It helps to see places firsthand. But I also read a lot and research a lot on the internet, which are great options for young people. I try as much as possible to read first-person accounts—diaries, letters, things written by the people I’m studying during the time that I’m studying. Or other source material—old pamphlets put out for the English home front, for example. I love interviewing actual people who lived through time periods, but that isn’t always possible. I’d warn young writers to be cautious about anything that shows up on the internet—there is a lot of very convincing fake material there right now.
What’s your favorite part of creating books for young readers?
I love seeing kids reading my books in the wild. I was once eating lunch at a taco shop in Philadelphia, and this girl came in with her family, carrying the most battered copy of The War That Saved My Life that I’ve ever seen. She read it while eating her tacos. My second favorite thing is knowing that I’ll never really know how much my books might affect some readers. A long time ago I wrote a book called Halfway to the Sky (Delacorte, 2002), about a girl who tries to hike the Appalachian Trail. A decade or so after it came out, I started getting isolated letters—I think I’ve had half a dozen—from young women sending me photos of themselves on tops of mountains and saying that my book inspired them to start hiking, and they haven’t stopped. I figure there are readers like that for all books. I know the books that inspired me.
Can you share any details about your forthcoming books?
I’m writing a horse story that I hope will become the first in a limited series. It’s called Phoenix, and it’s about a starved and neglected horse that gets dumped in the backyard of a girl who’s facing her own set of challenges and is not particularly interested in horses at all. It’s very loosely based on the backstory of my daughter’s horse Merlin, who came out of truly awful circumstances with an openness and generosity of spirit that really shouldn’t be possible. Merlin shows me that we shouldn’t let trauma define us.
What are the best ways for educators and librarians to connect with you or to follow you on social media?
I’m not on social media very much these days, but on Bluesky I’m @kimberlybbradley. I have a website at kimberlybrubakerbradley.com, and you can email me via kimberlybrubakerbradley@gmail.com.
