Oskar is a traumatized individual. He grew up in a violent, chaotic world and lost many people close to him. As a way of navigating his traumatic past, he writes. However, Oskar is not sure whether anything as normal as language could hope to convey the abnormality of his existence. After witnessing the realities of war, after seeing innocent people gunned down for no reason, after talking to people who escaped from the extermination camps, and seeing his own family members and friends willingly signing up to a fascist regime, Oskar struggles to fit the complexity of his past into written language.

As soon as he gets the paper and writing materials from Bruno, his first speculative thoughts ponder the nature of fiction itself. Everything that was written before the 20th century seems an inadequate point of comparison for conveying Oskar's experiences. The styles, tropes, structures, and styles of the past cannot wrestle with the realities of the Holocaust, or convey the guilt, shame, and trauma that has been such a big part of Oskar's life. As such, The Tin Drum becomes an exploration of language itself and the question of whether humanity has sunk to such lows that language itself must be expunged.