The internment's origins are rooted in deep-seated prejudice. Early in the novel, while Naomi examines Aunt Emily's parcel, this issue becomes apparent. Naomi notes that wherever "Japanese race" appears in newspapers or pamphlets, Aunt Emily has crossed it out and replaced it with "Canadian citizens." This change highlights the fundamental problem. Naomi's family was seen as outsiders and, with the onset of war, as enemies. There was no basis for this bias. Asian immigrants arrived in North America around the same time as the Irish and many Europeans who came after World War I. Yet, neither Italians nor Germans faced internment. The scapegoating of the Japanese is evident in the seizure of their fishing boats and the incident where Stephen is attacked at school. This prejudice lingered after the war, as Japanese Canadians were still barred from returning to the coast, and numerous signs along the highway declared, "Japs Keep Out." Naomi reflects on the absurdity of it all, recalling Grandma Nakane in her prison cell, "too old then to understand political expediency, race riots, the yellow peril. She was told that a war was on."

Naomi also witnesses other forms of intolerance. Her brother's growing disdain for his family and heritage is one example, though it develops gradually. A particularly clear incident occurs near the end of their stay in Slocan. Naomi's friend is forbidden from speaking with her, leading to an awkward encounter at the baths. Outside, Naomi hears from her friends, "We can't play with you … you're sick. You've all got TB. You and the Nomuras and your dad." This revelation is new to Naomi, but Uncle Isamu later explains, "For some people it is a shameful matter to be ill. But it is a matter of misfortune, not shame." This attitude within the exiled community, expressed by Reiko, adds a layer of realism to the novel by showing that the interned group is not without fault. It also illustrates how intolerance is passed down. Reiko admits she knows only what "my mom told me." Just as Reiko learns to judge, Naomi learns to accept those who are ill, like old Nomura-obasan, who stayed with them for a while on a cot in the kitchen.

In the second chapter, Naomi is bombarded with probing questions from her students about her love life. While this is a familiar topic for her as a teacher, it feels especially unsettling because of her unresolved identity issues. Her turbulent past leaves her feeling "tense" with "a crone-prone syndrome," weighed down by countless secrets, silences, and repressed traumas. Much like it took young Naomi time to accept her father's death, the older Naomi still struggles to fully understand the deep trauma of her sexual abuse, her mother's disappearance, and the community turmoil caused by the war. She eventually finds peace by uncovering the complete truth and facing her past head-on. Ultimately, she achieves resolution when she ventures out into the night, clad in Aunt Emily’s jacket, and heads to the coulee. There, drawing strength from Obasan’s silence and Uncle’s unspoken messages, she finally feels at ease with the land and herself. Her nightmares will end, and she will lay her family to rest in Canada, her true home.

In the novel, injustice is consistently paired with acts of violation. The policy of scapegoating Japanese people profoundly affects the family in both clear and subtle ways. Their fishing boats are seized, their civil rights are revoked, and the mother finds herself stranded in Japan as war breaks out. This situation sets the stage for the loss of innocence, symbolized by...

“The past is the future,” Aunt Emily proclaims, capturing the central theme of the book. Naomi's exploration of her history is symbolized by the beam of her flashlight illuminating the many spider webs in Obasan's attic. She follows her aunt there in the quiet of night, looking for a parcel from Aunt Emily that she has avoided reading for years. However, they find only dust and spiders instead. The attic becomes a vault of forgotten memories, left to be claimed by the spiders. Furthermore, there is a mention of spiders in the "weaving" of stories. This idea reflects the tale of Penelope, Ulysses' wife, who wove and unwove a tapestry to postpone her suitors. Naomi's narrative is similarly woven like a web. Her parents serve as her needles, but when they depart, it takes a long time for Naomi to piece together her story with the help of her aunts. Her tale shifts back and forth, from the center to the edges, until, like a web, it captures the identity shaped by her story—Naomi.

The King bird is another symbol in this narrative. It represents the narrator's anxiety about exaggerating or misrepresenting the story. This concern leads the narrator to use fairy tales—Goldilocks, Heidi, and Momotaro—as a means of explanation. Momotaro is a traditional Japanese tale she heard at bedtime, about a young hero similar to Hercules who dedicates himself to helping people in their battles against greater forces. In many ways, Kogawa's Naomi is linked to this hero. By sharing her memories, she strengthens the anti-nuclear movement and, in particular, the redress movement in Canada. Like Naomi, only when all the elements are complete and the entire story is revealed can, as Obasan would put it, “The time of forgetting is now come.”