Can't 'Reason' this away
Getting back to regularly-scheduled program, I return to YA lit with one of the more popular titles of the last few years.
Clay opens a package of cassette tapes sent to him anonymously only to freak out when he hears the voice of Hannah Baker speaking to him. A former classmate and crush, Hannah killed herself nearly three weeks ago. Feeling both helpless and guilty, Clay begins listening to the tapes - there are seven of them, and each side contains a story of how the people Hannah wanted to trust chose to betray her instead. The tapes are being sent around to only those who play a part in Hannah's progressively depressing, harrowing stories, which means that Clay - good kid, good friend, soon to be valedictorian - will hear her talk about him. So begins a long night of pain, grief, frustration, and release for Clay as he obsessively listens to each tape, all the while wondering what he - or anyone else - could have done to alter Hannah's fate.
It will be difficult for me to write about this book, although maybe not for the obvious reason. Suicide is nearly as baffling as it is depressing, and 13 Reasons raises some questions while answering others. True, a suicide victim doesn't normally grant us access to her thought process or inner life, which is a huge reason why the unyielding Hannah stands out. Her voice and journey dominates the narrative, offering insights on social interactions, the fickleness of friends, and what it feels like to drown in a sea of untrustworthy figures. Her stories of friendships gone wrong, entitled assholes, and creeping self-doubt are effective and chillingly believable. Clay exists mostly as a stand-in for the reader, mirroring our own turmoil and helplessness, but his occasional anger and overall dedication to hearing Hannah's stories mark him as a sympathetic narrator. Asher's evocative details perfectly express the kind of pain Clay is going through, and by the end of the book, the reader feels just as drained and emotionally tired. The plot's mystery will certainly keep readers deeply involved.
But I wish I had seen more of Hannah. I feel like it wasn't enough to hear her voice, to have her talking straight to the reader. Insightful as she can be, she doesn't - or perhaps cannot - find a way to express her self - her history, her hopes, her fears. What little blanks Clay fills in for us aren't very telling. Like most teenagers, Hannah is very tapped in to the now, to the current state of her life, and the current events that send her on her downward spiral. Even so, I keep thinking that a girl who goes to great lengths to record her stories - one or two containing big secrets that illustrate her flaws - would choose to go into greater detail about her life. The last thing I want to be is insensitive, but story-wise, it was not quite satisfying.
But I choose to believe that Asher has a point in all this: that suicide does not have a set root problem, that it is too complicated to untangle the path that leads up to it. This is something that many people may find a hard lesson to learn, and as a very non-suicidal person, I include myself in that category. This message - if he intended it to be so - hovers on the edges of Hannah's story; if there is something to be said for it, well, it'll definitely make you think.
Rating: 4 dotted maps out of 5.
It will be difficult for me to write about this book, although maybe not for the obvious reason. Suicide is nearly as baffling as it is depressing, and 13 Reasons raises some questions while answering others. True, a suicide victim doesn't normally grant us access to her thought process or inner life, which is a huge reason why the unyielding Hannah stands out. Her voice and journey dominates the narrative, offering insights on social interactions, the fickleness of friends, and what it feels like to drown in a sea of untrustworthy figures. Her stories of friendships gone wrong, entitled assholes, and creeping self-doubt are effective and chillingly believable. Clay exists mostly as a stand-in for the reader, mirroring our own turmoil and helplessness, but his occasional anger and overall dedication to hearing Hannah's stories mark him as a sympathetic narrator. Asher's evocative details perfectly express the kind of pain Clay is going through, and by the end of the book, the reader feels just as drained and emotionally tired. The plot's mystery will certainly keep readers deeply involved.
But I wish I had seen more of Hannah. I feel like it wasn't enough to hear her voice, to have her talking straight to the reader. Insightful as she can be, she doesn't - or perhaps cannot - find a way to express her self - her history, her hopes, her fears. What little blanks Clay fills in for us aren't very telling. Like most teenagers, Hannah is very tapped in to the now, to the current state of her life, and the current events that send her on her downward spiral. Even so, I keep thinking that a girl who goes to great lengths to record her stories - one or two containing big secrets that illustrate her flaws - would choose to go into greater detail about her life. The last thing I want to be is insensitive, but story-wise, it was not quite satisfying.
But I choose to believe that Asher has a point in all this: that suicide does not have a set root problem, that it is too complicated to untangle the path that leads up to it. This is something that many people may find a hard lesson to learn, and as a very non-suicidal person, I include myself in that category. This message - if he intended it to be so - hovers on the edges of Hannah's story; if there is something to be said for it, well, it'll definitely make you think.
Rating: 4 dotted maps out of 5.
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