The cellist is a young man with a prodigious musical talent— so much so that he was the lead cellist in the now-defunct Sarajevo Symphony Orchestra. In his skillful hands, the already-beautiful symphony he plays becomes especially affecting.

Although Galloway only focuses on the cellists’ character for one short chapter, the prologue, we can discern all kinds of things about the cellists’ character. We can see that he is a wise, thoughtful, and extremely sensitive young man. When we meet him during the prologue, he is still emotionally shattered from the recent bombing of the bread line, and his thoughts are rambling and very sad as well:

Not long ago, the promise of a happy life seemed almost inviolable. Five years ago, at his sister’s wedding, he’d posed for a family photograph, his father’s arm slung behind his neck, fingers grasping his shoulder. It was a firm grip, and to some it would have been painful, but to the cellist it was the opposite. The fingers on his flesh told him that he was loved, that he had always been loved, and that the world was a place where above all else the things that were good would find a way to burrow into you.