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In the
wake of suicide, the families and friends of the victims are
often riddled with the same questions: Why did they do it?
Did I help cause it? Could I have prevented it? Why didn't
anyone notice the signs? In his compelling debut novel about
teen suicide, Jay Asher beautifully covers these questions
and more.
In Thirteen
Reasons Why, 16-year-old Clay Jensen arrives home to find
a box addressed to him. Inside are seven cassettes, and when
he plays them, he discovers that they are from Hannah Baker,
the girl he has liked for the past three years. Two weeks
previous, Hannah killed herself. On the tapes, she explains
the 13 reasons why she did it—and each of the 12 people
receiving these cassettes is a reason.
A cynical
reader may find the premise melodramatic. A knee-jerk reaction
would be to peg Hannah as a bitter drama queen who chooses
to haunt the people she blames for making her life uncomfortable.
Even by the end of the book, readers may be as divided about
Hannah as they are about Holden Caulfield: a kindred spirit
to some, an idiot to others. But anyone who has ever known
a suicide victim will be intrigued by the universality of
this girl's reasons.
Hannah's
explanations intersect, beginning with the innocent first
kiss and the high school hi-jinks that ruined her reputation
and snowballing as the story continues. The stories told run
the gamut from trivial to disturbing, and Hannah herself is
not without blame. Though readers certainly will sympathize
with her, her passivity with others and occasional overreactions
certainly contribute to her problems, and Asher gracefully
notes this through other characters.
Asher's
tone does not read like a teenage girl's spoken narration,
but the writing is absorbing and generally quick, stumbling
only because Asher interrupts her story with too many of Clay's
thoughts and actions. Clay's feelings, while important to
the story, are only secondary to the tapes' contents, but
each anguished reaction is documented here like stage directions
to a play. Nevertheless, readers will find themselves blazing
through chapters, eager to discover how Clay—the smart,
well-mannered, quintessential boy next door who hardly knew
Hannah—contributed to her death.
In reality,
Hannah's distress actually took a village—or, at least,
an entire high school—to create, and the situations are
sometimes so commonplace that everyday actions are called
into question. For example, in a class devoted to open discussions
of teen issues, Hannah writes an anonymous note confessing
that she has had suicidal thoughts, but the class dismisses
the message as nothing more than a melodramatic desire for
attention—a reaction hauntingly similar to the arrogant
condemnation of suicide as an act of selfishness and sin.
Her cries for help are flatly rejected, and when pressed,
her classmates offer vapid solutions that only alienate Hannah
further. This cutting lack of sympathy is difficult to read,
in part because it is all too common and real.
Though
not everyone can relate to thoughts of suicide, many can relate
to Hannah's situations. Through them, readers will be able
to understand her loneliness and despair. But with this realization
comes a sense of responsibility. Ultimately, Asher shows that
Hannah Baker could be anyone—and that everyone
can do something to prevent suicide. As Clay learns, it is
as easy as a simple act of compassion. Thirteen Reasons
Why is a beautiful work from a thought-provoking new voice
in teen fiction.
(December,
2007)
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