overlooked shadow, offering insight and understanding of the historical and political landscape through the candid diaries of an uneducated, yet courageous and sincere man.

In The Refugee Summer, Edward Fenton's use of narrative techniques is striking, making it the first of many literary features to capture attention. The narrative voice immediately intrigues, taking readers on an unexpected journey. Despite being told in the first person, the identity of the narrator remains a mystery. Clearly one of the children, the narrator shares in their escapades and mischief, suggesting it couldn't possibly be an adult, as grownups are absent and unwelcome in their adventures. Yet, this anonymity never unsettles the reader, as the narrator is evidently reliable and even seems to possess insights beyond those of the actual characters. This is showcased when the narrator asserts that "Sotiris didn't see that," in reference to the burning of Smyrna, weaving a layer of mystery into the tale. The narrator's identity is finally unveiled on the novel's last page, delivering a twist that, despite its surprise, seems inevitable in hindsight. The revelation of a chosen name, rather than the character's real one, adds an intriguing layer, leaving readers pondering whether the character is schizophrenic or if adopting the Pallikar persona provided objectivity. The invocation of friends from the past hints at a longing for the innocence of childhood, a stark contrast to the adult world.

The narrator's perspective is pivotal in shaping the novel's structure. Reflecting on a transformative summer of childhood, where everything shifted, the narrative is steeped in memory, and hindsight becomes a key component. The narrator, with the wisdom of experience, knows what unfolds next, sharing this knowledge with the reader. This technique enriches the story, allowing for vivid and precise depictions of events and the era they occur in. However, in a skillful narrative choice, the narrator withholds future events from the reader, maintaining suspense and refraining from mocking the Alexandrian-Greek boy's misguided confidence that "The Egyptians would never drive us out." By the story’s conclusion, it is revealed that nothing remains unchanged, as Greeks are ultimately expelled from Egypt. The narrator delivers these truths with impartiality, never aligning with any character, maintaining objectivity to ensure clarity for the reader.

The inclusion of Manolis Kondylis's diary copybooks introduces a compelling narrative dimension to the novel. Through this soldier's chronicles, a vivid authenticity is woven into the fictional fabric of The Refugee Summer. Though the novel is fiction, these entries lend a sense of realism and autobiographical detail, bringing to life the soldier's experiences during World War I and the Asia Minor conflict. This nearly authentic narrative captivates readers, offering a glimpse into the horrors of war. Strategically placed, these diary readings follow lighter moments, transporting readers from the mundane to the stark realism of wartime, restoring the narrative’s focus on truth and gravity.

Alongside the central storyline, a tapestry of whimsical and comedic subplots weaves through the novel, involving both main and secondary characters. These side stories, like the tale of Madame Arnauld's indiscretion with a married aviator, inject humor and complexity into the narrative. The aviator's wife dramatically interrupts a Gala concert, causing embarrassment for Madame Arnauld and straining her relationship with "Uncle" Panos. Another subplot follows Madame Arnauld's demanding singing teacher, who, despite her stern demeanor, elevates Madame Arnauld's voice to new heights in preparation for the Gala. However, following the concert's commotion, Madame Arnauld flees to Beirut, leaving her teacher unpaid and bewildered at the villa the next day. Additionally, the unfinished story of the Romanian Princess and the Pallikars, abruptly ended by the children's bumbling, leaves the reader yearning for more. These secondary plots enrich the novel's depiction of life's variety, enhancing the vibrant atmosphere of The Refugee Summer.

Fenton's novel evokes a cinematic charm, employing techniques reminiscent of a film director's deft touch. The narrative unfolds with a "zooming in" akin to a camera lens honing in on its subject, transitioning from a broad canvas to intimate details. This technique is vividly illustrated as we move from the sweeping panorama of Villa Pandora to the bustling activity within, where Kyria Angeliki is frantically tidying up for the imminent arrival of the Americans. The plot thickens as Krikor makes his sudden entrance, delivering the startling news of the new family's arrival. It's as if we're watching a dramatic film sequence, the camera's eye capturing the startled expression on the housekeeper's face, her surprise as palpable as the scene itself. Meanwhile, the life of Manolis Kondylis unfolds before us in stark black and white, his voice narrating the story as vivid images cascade like an old film reel.

Vibrant metaphors and similes breathe life into the prose, painting scenes with striking imagery. Krikor's eyes shimmer like ripe olives, while the garden in the afternoon becomes an ocean of shadows, a verdant green so profound it feels submerged underwater. Every description is rich with color and depth, transforming the ordinary into the extraordinary.

Foreshadowing and Symbolism

Foreshadowing weaves its subtle magic throughout the novel, a tool masterfully wielded by the narrator with the benefit of hindsight. The children are likened to a band of secretive plotters before they even conceive their clandestine society, the Pallikars. Metaphors, personification, and similes further enhance this literary tapestry, casting shadows that herald change. This is evident in the lush garden enveloped in deepening shadows, where Nikolas's encounter with the Avery children marks a turning point, a friendship that alters the course of his life. The imagery extends to a forbidding "dark cloud," casting its shadow over all, as tension thickens the air, leading inexorably to the tragedy in Smyrna.

The garden metaphorically entices them with promises of adventure, while simultaneously serving as Pandora's box, brimming with challenges and the harsh truths of the Anatolian conflict. This duality signals both the allure of adventure and the inevitable loss of innocence the children will face. Nikolas's inner turmoil is keenly felt as he stands on the brink of a transformative journey, driven by his friend Oliver's adventurous spirit. As Nikolas delves into Manolis's writings, he uncovers truths that shake his understanding, pushing him towards self-discovery and a departure from youthful naïveté.

Language and Metafiction

In The Refugee Summer, language plays a pivotal role, not only authenticating the setting with interspersed Greek words but also weaving into the plot as the children invent their own dialect. Dubbed Desperanto, it mirrors the playful essence of Cockney rhyming slang, showcasing the author's linguistic creativity. "The time of the figs" captures this duality; it marks both the children's defiant fig feast, which defied adult warnings, and the era of the refugees, whom the children nicknamed figs.

Metafiction adds another layer to The Refugee Summer, where the narrative reflects on itself with playful introspection. The story critiques its own form, pondering whether it is "a real book... a story," or dreary like history. It aspires to be like an onion, with layers that lead to an emotional core, evoking tears as only the best tales can. The children's preference for stories that aren't "teachy and preachy" dictates the novel's intent—an engaging fictional narrative set against a backdrop of historical authenticity, blending plot and style to captivate and surprise, ultimately leaving readers with a poignant sense of loss.

Exploring the Impact of War

This novel serves as a powerful testament against the atrocities of war, vividly depicting the nightmarish realities and the profound transformation of young minds distanced from battle yet entangled in its far-reaching shadows. It mirrors the scenario faced by the United States when its young men were called to distant battlefields, leaving behind a homeland grappling with the grim awareness of conflict. The anticipation of children, eagerly awaiting their fathers' heroic return, often turned to sorrow as some fathers never returned, while others came back profoundly changed by their experiences. This narrative can serve as a poignant companion to discussions surrounding the Vietnam, Korean, or Gulf Wars. Additionally, it offers insight into the plight of refugees who sought refuge in the United States during and post-World War II. Through these parallel stories, the novel underscores the persistent tragedy and brutality of war, transcending time, geography, and context. It also provides a platform to delve into the complexities faced by political and war refugees.

The Journey from Innocence to Experience

The Refugee Summer stands out as a compelling novel for young adults, masterfully weaving the themes of innocence and experience. The characters embark on a journey toward adulthood, each following their unique path of growth. While some characters, like Nadine and Stephanie, appear to remain unchanged, the evolution from childhood to maturity is starkly evident in Nikolas. The quest for self-discovery and comprehension of the adult world emerges as a significant theme, drawing readers into the characters' struggles and growth, despite the differences in time period. The Refugee Summer eloquently suggests that the challenges and emotions shared by children and adults alike transcend time, reinforcing the timeless nature of empathy and shared human experiences.

Fenton's deep affection for Greece is vividly illustrated through the literary tapestry he has woven over the years. Among his works are two captivating picture books: "Alekos's Island," published in 1948, and the charming "An Island for a Pelican," released in 1963. These stories, while simple and direct, laid the groundwork for Fenton's later explorations into young adult historical fiction.

His journey into historical narratives brought forth "The Refugee Summer" in 1982, and "The Morning of the Gods" in 1987. In these novels, readers are transported to authentic cultural and historical landscapes of Greece. The former unfolds amidst the turmoil of the Asia Minor catastrophe in an Athenian suburb, while the latter paints a vivid picture of regional Greece under the shadow of the Colonels' Dictatorship. Fenton skillfully evokes the essence of these eras, providing a clear-eyed depiction of the political upheavals that serve as a backdrop to his tales.

Together, these four books compose a lush fictional archive, a testament to an author's passionate devotion to his chosen homeland. They invite readers to journey back in time, offering insights into the diverse culture, rich religious traditions, and the hopes and dreams of Greek children. These young protagonists, much like their counterparts worldwide, navigate the turbulent seas of political instability and conflict, revealing a universal resilience and spirit.

Critical Reception of "The Refugee Summer"

Horn Book (June 1982): 286. This issue unfurls a review of The Refugee Summer, capturing the initial impressions following its release.

Lanes, Selma G. New York Times Book Review (April 25, 1982): 34. Within these pages lies Selma G. Lanes' critique, offering her insights on The Refugee Summer.

School Library Journal (April 15, 1982): 80. Here, a review of The Refugee Summer emerges, presenting opinions from the educational realm.