I was on the verge of becoming the sixth virgin suicide, considering just how awful this book was.

The story seemed to unfold in the most depressing and hopeless manner. The characters were trapped in a web of despair, their lives filled with pain and confusion.

The author's writing style, while perhaps intended to be profound, came across as convoluted and difficult to follow. It was as if the words were deliberately arranged to make the reader feel lost and frustrated.

I found myself constantly struggling to make sense of what was happening, and the lack of a clear narrative arc only added to my growing sense of dread.

With each passing page, I felt myself sinking deeper into a state of despondency, wondering if there was any glimmer of hope to be found within the dark and twisted pages of this book.

We couldn't imagine the inner void of a human being who would bring a razor to their wrist and open their veins: the void and the calm. And we had to smear our muzzles in their final traces, muddy footprints on the floor, kicked-open trunks, forever breathe the air of the rooms where they killed themselves. In the end, it didn't matter how many years they had, or that they were girls, but only the fact that we had loved them and that they hadn't heard our call; they don't even hate us now that we are up here, in the tree house, with tousled hair and a bit of a belly, and we call them to come out of the rooms where they went to find eternal solitude, the solitude of suicide, which is deeper than death, the rooms where we will never find the pieces to put them back together.

«We couldn't envision the emptiness within a person who would bring a razor to their wrist and slit their veins: the emptiness and the calm. And we had to get our muzzles dirty with their final marks, muddy imprints on the floor, knocked-over chests, forever inhale the air of the rooms where they took their own lives. In the end, it didn't matter how old they were, or that they were girls, but only the fact that we had loved them and that they hadn't heard our cry; they don't even despise us now that we are up here, in the tree house, with tousled hair and a bit of a paunch, and we call to them to come out of the rooms where they entered to find eternal solitude, the solitude of suicide, which is deeper than death, the rooms where we will never find the parts to put them back together.»


Don't look for the reasons why five girls decide to kill themselves, this book won't give them to you.

I would imagine that this book would be different things to different people, as all books are, of course.

But with this one, a male reader would certainly have a different viewpoint from a female. Mothers of daughters might bring a unique experience to the table. And anyone who knows someone who either committed suicide or made an attempt, or who has considered it themselves, however briefly, is going to experience this novel on a completely different level.

None of us may agree on the hows and the whys of 5 stairstep sisters in an affluent neighborhood who commit suicide over the course of one year.

What we can all agree on, though, is that for a first novel, this was haunting and mesmerizing and brave on the author's part. I have long wanted to read "Middlesex", the Pulitzer Prize winner written later in Eugenides' career, but decided to start with this one. His writing, and certainly his subject matter, is different from anything else I can think of.

I may be processing this one for a while, wondering if this is a warning of some type about the pain of adolescence or the state of our lives in the latter part of the 20th century, and even more so 25 years after publication. Whatever, I think it was brilliant.

Perhaps this book makes us reflect on the complexity of human emotions and the hidden struggles that people may face. It could also be a commentary on the pressures and expectations placed on individuals, especially in a seemingly ideal neighborhood. The author's ability to create such a powerful and thought-provoking story is truly remarkable.

As I continue to think about this novel, I find myself drawn back to the characters and their tragic fates. It makes me question our society and how we can better support those who may be suffering in silence. Overall, I believe this is a book that will stay with me for a long time.

The Virgin Suicides presents a complex and captivating narrative that defies expectations.

"When she jumped, she probably thought she'd fly."

On the surface, it tells the tragic story of the Lisbon girls, the eldest just 17, who take their own lives over thirteen months. However, Eugenides' unique construction of the story makes it anything but a typical tale of teen suicide. The content is indeed depressing, yet it is presented in a way that gives it a surreal, almost magical quality. It can even be darkly funny at times.

I'm left with a jumble of emotions. I'm sad for the girls and their short lives, yet there's a sense of detachment and indifference. The book deliberately keeps us at arm's length from the girls. We know about them, but we don't truly get to know them. We know what happened, but not why.

The story is told from the perspective of a group of boys who lived near the Lisbons during the tragedy. Now in their mid-thirties, they are still haunted by the mystery of the girls' suicides. The tone is like a criminal investigation, with the boys gathering evidence and interviewing people in a desperate attempt to understand.

This style of narration adds to the detachment. The Lisbon girls are not really the protagonists, even though the story is about them. Their lives are a patchwork of memories and assumptions, a collage of details that only form a vague impression.

More than grief, this book sparked an intense curiosity in me. I feel like I've become part of the boys' obsession, as if I've witnessed the Lisbons' downfall. Like everyone else who knows about the tragedy, I find myself making theories about the girls' final months.

Sad, dreamlike, and weird, The Virgin Suicides is a great piece of literature. Its cult classic status is well-deserved and it's definitely worth a read, even if you don't end up liking it.

"It didn't matter in the end how old they had been, or that they were girls, but only that we had loved them, and that they hadn't heard us calling, still do not hear us, up here in the tree house with our thinning hair and soft bellies, calling them out of those rooms where they went to be alone for all time, alone in suicide, which is deeper than death, and where we will never find the pieces to put them back together."

I truly adored the manner in which this story was presented. It was narrated from the perspective of the neighbourhood boys who had an obsessive fixation on the five Lisbon sisters, all of whom ultimately committed suicide.

At first glance, it might sound completely disheartening, and indeed it is. However, the way it is told manages to truly capture the essence of adolescent longings, of unattainable fascinations with the elusive, repressed, and sheltered Lisbon girls.

The writing is as exquisite as the sisters themselves. The story progresses rapidly, almost without a break, and one becomes truly engrossed in this captivating tale told in the most compelling way.

I was completely carried away by this remarkable story, with its beautiful sense of melancholia and despair. There is no happy ending, but that is pretty much in line with the reality of suicide.

The fact that these girls were in the prime of their lives, in the midst of their emerging womanhood, makes this book all the more poetic and unsettling. It leaves a lasting impression and makes one reflect on the complex nature of adolescence, longing, and the fragility of life.

**Decostruzione**

The American dream crumbles behind the gardens and the rows of paths, inside the houses with slate roofs, in front of the smile of the five Lisbon sisters who loved Rock & Roll, the chrysopoeia that danced in the warm summer air and the elm tree in the garden: but not this world, not this life.

The story unfolds in a vivid and haunting way. We are presented with a series of images that paint a picture of a seemingly idyllic yet ultimately tragic setting. The Lisbon sisters, with their love for Rock & Roll and their youthful charm, are at the center of this tale. But as we delve deeper, we realize that beneath the surface lies a world of pain and despair.
The author, Eugenides, has a profound sense of tragedy in his blood. His Greek origins shine through in the first-person plural narrative that tells, remembers, and relives the inevitable end of the five sisters. It is like a modern "Greek chorus" that accompanies us, incredulous yet resigned to the inescapable, until the very end. We are left with a sense of loss and a question: why did these beautiful lives come to such a tragic end?

Decostruzione

The American dream collapses behind the gardens and the orderly paths, within the houses with their slate rooftops, before the smiles of the five Lisbon sisters who adored Rock & Roll, the alchemical experiments that danced in the warm summer breeze and the elm tree in the garden: yet not this world, not this life.





The Virgin Suicides Garden, Sofia Coppola - James Woods, Kathleen Turner, Kirsten Dunst

“They had killed themselves in front of the spectacle of our dying forests, of the manatees mutilated by propellers when they surfaced to drink from the hoses used for watering; they had killed themselves at the sight of the old tires piled up in heaps higher than the pyramids; they had killed themselves because of the impossibility of finding a love that none of us could ever have been.”

Eugenides has the sense of tragedy in his blood and his Greek roots powerfully emerge in that first-person plural that narrates, remembers, and relives moment by moment the inexorable end of the five sisters, a modern “Greek chorus” that accompanies us, incredulous yet resigned to the inevitable, until the end: “In the end it didn't matter how many years they had, or that they were girls, but only the fact that we had loved them and that they had not heard our call; they don't even hate us now that we are up here, in the tree house, with our thinning hair and a bit of a belly, and we call them to come out of the rooms where they have gone to find eternal solitude, the solitude of suicide, which is deeper than death, the rooms where we will never find the pieces to put them back together.”

I cannot even express how much I loathed this book. It truly made me realize the significance of dialog in storytelling, as almost the entire book consists of narration.

I really had a fondness for the movie - and perhaps I was in the minority. However, it made me eager to read the book. Probably because I relished the movie so much, it compelled me to read the book till the end, which was a painful experience.

In fact, I refrained from reading Middlesex for some time due to my intense hatred for this book. But eventually, a friend whose opinion I trust informed me that she despised this book yet adored Middlesex. So, I yielded and read it. And it has become one of my favorite books. Maybe Jeffrey Eugenides simply had to get this book out of his creative system.

This story delves into the lives of the five Lisbon sisters over the course of one year in the 1970s. It is told from the perspective of a group of neighborhood boys who are completely captivated by the sisters' lives, and ultimately, their deaths.

On June 16, Cecelia, one of the sisters, is discovered in the bathtub with her wrists slit. Miraculously, she is found in time and after two weeks in the hospital, she is released. However, she attempts suicide again and this time, she succeeds.

All of this takes place in the very first chapter.

The boys then go on to recount the story of the surviving sisters. As the year progresses, their parents increasingly restrict the sisters' activities and lives, with tragic consequences.

My goodness, this book is incredibly intense. At first, the boys' almost clinical and universal point of view seems overly sterile and cold. But as the story unfolds, this seeming impartiality actually helps the reader navigate through the tragic lives of the Lisbon sisters. The sterility transforms into numbness as the boys document the ethereal beauty of their lives and the inherent danger that is obvious to the boys but not to the Lisbon parents.

What is truly remarkable about this book is the patience with which the stories of the sisters unfold. Every detail of the neighborhood is revealed with such care, and yet all of these details seamlessly intertwine. It is truly a sophisticated debut novel. The foreshadowing of the Lisbon sisters' fates gently prepares the reader for the grief and sorrow that lies ahead.

Words fail to convey just how deeply the sorrow is interwoven throughout the Lisbon tapestry. Even now, I am burdened with grief, as if I witnessed their deaths just this morning. The end of chapter 4 contains some of the most haunting prose I have ever read. And like the boys, I will be haunted forever.

Que decir..

It was a relatively quick read. However, it has a rather dense emotional background. The suicide of the Lisbon sisters, seen from the perspectives of the boys, psychologists, doctors, neighbors, and the girls' parents. I would have liked to know about them through their own voices, what their thoughts, dreams, illusions were, what their feelings were, the close relationship they had as sisters, not through other people who only supposed their actions. However, I understand it because that's what gives mystery/intrigue to the narration..

\\n  "After all, it didn't matter how old they were, that they were so young. The only thing that mattered was that we had loved them and that they hadn't heard us when we called them, that they still don't hear us now, up here, with our thinning hair and our belly, calling them to come out of those rooms where they had stayed alone forever, alone in their suicide, deeper than death, and in which we will never find the pieces that could be used to put them back together again..."\\n

3.5 ⭐️

This book has been sitting on my To Be Read (TBR) list for an incredibly long time, YEARS to be exact! Finally, I managed to order it from the library and decided to give it a try.

To be honest, it was just okay. At times, it felt rather odd, and it definitely wasn't the most captivating or riveting read. However, it wasn't all bad.

The story is set around the 1980s (I believe?). It centers on the five Lisbon sisters: Lux, Mary, Cecilia, Bonnie, and Therese. The sisters live in a very claustrophobic household, where their mother has laid down numerous strict rules. Sadly, within the span of just 2 years, all five girls end up dead - by suicide.

The book is told from the perspective of four teenage boys who become completely infatuated with the girls. They follow the girls' lives and even take them on the only date the girls will ever have.

To be frank, I don't really have a whole lot to say about this book. It was extremely sad, and we never truly find out the reasons behind the girls' suicides. The entire tale sort of left a bit of a bad taste in my mouth. But, on the positive side, I'm glad to say that I've finally read this book. At least now it can be crossed off my Mount TBR.

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

I truly enjoyed this book to an extent that far exceeded my initial expectations.

The writing was simply captivating, drawing me in from the very first page.

What I particularly liked was the unique perspective employed in the narrative. We only got to see the Lisbon girls through the eyes of others.

This created a sense of mystery and intrigue, much like the boys in the story, we never actually got to know the Lisbon girls in a direct and personal way.

It made me constantly wonder about their true nature, their dreams, and their inner turmoil.

The book left a lasting impression on me, making me reflect on the power of perception and the hidden depths that lie within every individual.

Overall, it was a remarkable reading experience that I would highly recommend to others.

Me habían advertido que lo de Eugenides era cosa seria. Que cuando leías sus novelas te sentías parte de ellas, con una sensación de empatía indirecta, fría e incómoda. Bueno, a todos los que me dieron eso, les digo que me sentí igual que ustedes, como todo un personaje más de la trama. Gracias por el dato, fellas.

Lo más atractivo de la novela es la trama, el estilo y la narración. No los personajes, no el entorno, no los acontecimientos posteriores, no. De hecho, de una u otra manera, te cuentan el final en la primera página. Y me gusta, ya que el autor es valiente, se aventura y toma riesgos. Lo cual le hace el trabajo más difícil, ya que mantener al lector enganchado es más complicado.

Como la sinopsis refleja a la perfección, “Las vírgenes suicidas” sigue la historia detrás de la familia Lisbon. Conformada con los tiránicos padres, Mr y Mrs Lisbon y las cinco hermanas. La novela comienza con la muerte (suicidio) de la última hermana Lisbon, lo cual, a través de un racconto, volvemos a la historia de la primera hermana Lisbon en cometer suicidio. ¿Por qué lo hará? Esa es la pregunta que el lector tiene a lo largo de la novela.

Como había dicho anteriormente, el otro aspecto muy positivo de la novela fue la manera en que creó la narración de la historia. Con una primera persona plural, no-omnisciente, digamos mejor, “testigo tímido”, Eugenides te hace un narrador más de la historia, y eso, déjenme decirles, está cool. Es interesante, porque el grupo de narradores son unos hombres que están recordando su adolescencia en donde conocieron (muy de cerca) a las hermanas Lisbon.

Sin embargo, sentí que la novela del autor estadounidense tuvo un problema de conexión y de desarrollo de trama. Aunque la trama general está buena, la mal desarrolló. Mal desarrollada porque al principio de la novela el ambiente es muy gris y opaco, con una intriga muy potente, la cual le da vida a la novela. Pero el final de la historia, además de brusco y sin sentido, no siguió la línea que Eugenides había trazado desde el principio y a lo largo de toda la novela.

En conclusión, lo creado por Eugenides es una novela que se lee muy rápido (un día en mi caso), con una pluma increíblemente pulida y con un contenido valórico muy potente. Refleja el tema de las apariencias, las cuales a veces nos pueden engañar dejándonos un sabor muy amargo en nuestra vida. También habla de la muerte, de las heridas (quizás crónicas) que deja, y como un conflicto familiar mal tratado, puede explotar de la peor forma posible. Una lectura amena e inquieta, la cual sin duda llamará tu atención. Recomendable.