I have made a firm decision that I will never read a book written by a man ever again. This might seem like a drastic choice, but it stems from my recent experiences and observations. I have noticed that many male authors seem to approach their writing from a particular perspective that doesn't always resonate with me. Their stories often lack the depth and nuance that I渴望 in a good book. I want to explore the works of female authors and discover new voices and perspectives that might offer a more fulfilling reading experience. By limiting my reading to books written by women, I hope to gain a better understanding of different experiences and emotions. I believe that this will open up a whole new world of literature for me and allow me to grow as a reader and a person.

Weird and unsettling are the themes of trauma and adolescence explored in this piece.

Despite the title, it's not truly a story of virgin suicides. While the suicides of the girls do drive the plot and are at the center of the narration, the book really focuses on the boys who witness these tragic events. The unimaginable, unexplained, and unfathomable trauma they experience marks their entire lives.

The story also does a good job of portraying how such a tragedy affects the community and the helplessness of a school system that is supposed to protect children.

It's a great thought-provoking piece, but it can be a bit repulsive due to the narration style. Told from the perspective of the teenage boys, it becomes awkwardly sexualized at times. This aspect may turn some readers off, but it also adds an interesting layer to the exploration of adolescence and the impact of trauma.

Overall, it's a complex and engaging work that delves deep into the human psyche and the consequences of such a harrowing event.

I was eager to set aside young adult literature for a while, so I decided to pick up this novel that had been calling to me from my bookshelf for some time. What a surprise it has turned out to be one of the best books I have read. However, few novels possess the magic that this one can rightfully boast.

5/5
If I had to describe The Virgin Suicides with one word, it would undoubtedly be "intense." I don't know if it was due to the narration or the need to know what triggered the sequence of suicides of the Lisbon sisters. Moreover, despite knowing the outcome in advance, it managed to keep me on the edge of my seat at all times. Living the lives of this group of sisters through different pairs of eyes, which ultimately form a kaleidoscope of them. A kaleidoscope, thanks to which I ended up thinking that Bonnie, Therese, Mary, Lux, and Cecilia were real, that I truly knew them, and yet at the same time, I knew absolutely nothing about them. As if only the equivalent of the tip of the iceberg was being narrated, with a depth so profound that it would require page after page to truly know them. And that's how we all are in reality, isn't it?

I found the way the theme of family control and oppression was handled to be heart-wrenching. How the parents of these young women, with all good intentions, want to lead them down the "right path," but end up denying them happiness and personal development.

Undoubtedly, it is a wonderful, profound, and very well-crafted work. Although it may seem a bit confusing at first (it is difficult to distinguish the line that separates the past from the narrator's thoughts, or even what is happening in the present), it ultimately creates a unique and absorbing atmosphere. A transition is achieved from that initial confusion to a complex novel with a magical plot, which completely captivated me and left me speechless.

Fully recommended.

The Virgin Suicides is a captivating tale narrated by a collective “we” of teenage boys who are now middle-aged men. They find themselves grappling with the need to explain the suicides of five sisters in their 1970s suburban neighborhood.

Right from the start, we are informed that all the Lisbon girls will meet their end and the manner in which it will occur. The story is told with such a coolly sustained detachment that any initial sense of shock fades away as the narrative takes a turn towards another profound question: How much can we truly know about another person's life, or even our own?

With detective-like precision, the boys painstakingly gather evidence such as eyelash curlers, lipstick, records, hair brushes, and nail polish. They also interview key witnesses. However, their efforts prove fruitless as the girls manage to elude every attempt by the boys to understand who they really were. The boys (and we) never succeed in firmly establishing their image. Throughout the story, the girls are like successive flashes in a whirlwind. At times, one face comes sharply into focus only to slip away again into the dizzying light. And yet, they do appear just enough through the web of dreams spun by the boys to give us a fleeting glimpse of what escapes the male gaze.

There is no key to unlock the mystery of the boys' adolescence. “We knew that the girls were our twins, that we all existed in space like animals with identical skins, and that they knew everything about us though we couldn't fathom them at all. We knew, finally, that the girls were really women in disguise, that they understood love and even death, and that our job was merely to create the noise that seemed to fascinate them.” This book is about the impossibility of truly understanding, about the loss of childhood innocence that continues to haunt us, no matter how irretrievable it may be.

I've been hesitating for a long time before I started this book. The title, The Virgin Suicides, seemed so blatantly focused on cheap commercial success, offering an exciting blend of eroticism and drama. I couldn't envision the book being good. However, the numerous rave reviews made me change my mind. And fortunately so, because it is a masterpiece of deception.

This book, contrary to what many reviews might lead one to believe, is not simply about how five girls from the same family (not even all virgins, as virginity can also be seen as innocence) came to end their lives. No, already after a few pages, you know that they will all commit suicide within the same year, and you also learn that we will never know why they did it. So, that cannot be the true scope of Eugenides' work. But he is all too aware that we will continue to read in the hope of uncovering clues and arriving at a conclusive explanation. And the author is perverse enough to scatter numerous clues around, or at least to tease our imagination in that direction.

Now, what is this book really about? Well, in my opinion, the key to the real scope lies in figuring out who the actual storyteller is that Eugenides is hiding behind. And here he is playing a perverse game with the reader. From the very beginning, an indefinite "we" is addressing us, and you get the impression that it is one or several boys from the neighborhood of the girls. Also, at first, it is not clear how far in the future our narrator(s) live(s). Sparse bits of information are doled out, and only if you are extremely attentive. And it is only in the end that everything falls into place. It seems like a rhetorical game, and I can imagine that not many people can appreciate this kind of game, but it确实 works. And especially because it takes some time before you realize that this narrator position is the real and original merit of the work.

And so you delve into the real scope of the story: an inventory and analysis of the social phenomena that occur in the immediate vicinity of someone who commits suicide. The rumors, the gossip, the overprotection, the concern about contamination, and plain curiosity. Eugenides has beautifully depicted all of this, and needless to say, it presents a disturbing image.

And then there's the incomparable style. It is very cinematographic and expressive, often with striking imagery, and occasionally chilling in the clinical description of the dramatic events. And now we come to it: this book also earns the prize for having one of the best opening sentences in years: "On the morning the last Lisbon daughter took her turn at suicide – it was Mary this time, and sleeping pills, like Therese – the two paramedics arrived at the house knowing exactly where the knife drawer was, and the gas oven, and the beam in the basement from which it was possible to tie a rope." Eugenides, in this debut, is already a true master. I'm really looking forward to the next works of this author!

Postscript: In the meantime, I've tried Middlesex, but for some reason, it didn't work out for me!

This book is like a preface,

where the real book never seems to begin.

There is endless foreshadowing intertwined with various obsessions of a teenage boy regarding what a home with five daughters must involve...boxes and boxes of tampons, and so on.

I was so impatient that I couldn't wait for these girls to kill themselves just so the book would come to an end.

It's as if the author is deliberately prolonging the introduction, keeping the reader in a state of anticipation and perhaps even frustration.

The detailed descriptions of the teenage boy's thoughts and the seemingly mundane aspects of the household add to the overall sense of unease and restlessness.

One wonders when the real story will finally unfold and what kind of twists and turns it will bring.

Until then, the reader is left to grapple with the ambiguity and wait for the inevitable conclusion.

The Lisbon sisters have a certain allure that captivates their neighbours. They are an integral part of the community, and yet, they remain forever separate. Their house appears ordinary at first glance, but upon closer inspection, it is rotting due to neglect and is弥漫着 a miasma of grief.

The sisters attend the same high school as their peers, but they exist within a bubble that shields them from the outside world while also excluding it. When a tragedy befalls their home and the number of sisters dwindles, their otherness seems to intensify and further taints their reputation. They are the subject of fear, respect, disdain, pity, romance, and speculation. However, they are never truly understood.

Both the reader and the community cast side-eyed glances at the Lisbon household. What secrets are hidden within the furniture? What mysteries lurk beneath the bedspreads? If only the thick dust that coats all surfaces could speak, what tales would it tell us? Our thoughts constantly return to this suburban enigma, which is so close yet seems separated from us by a universe of distance when it comes to understanding the thoughts and feelings of its occupants.

We are never given a true understanding of the motives or meanings behind the events. Instead, we are only invited to form our own conjectures. I find this a clever literary device that keeps the mysterious sisters constantly on my mind, even when I am not fully immersed in their story. It also maintains the same distance that all those outside of their bloodline are kept at. Perspective is truly everything in a story as powerful as this one.

What really happened inside this quiet family home? Tragedy, pain, disaster, and grief – a never-ending cycle of the four. Meaning is as elusive as truth, and the conclusion offers no closure. This is a story that I am already eager to revisit, to untangle the scattered facts and continue to form my own assumptions. For this is all that the Lisbon sisters ever allow us to do.

I really loved Middlesex, but this one was just average.

The writing in this piece was quite good. The author had a certain flair and skill in putting words together. However, as I was reading, I just felt an overwhelming sense of sadness for the girls. Their stories seemed so tragic and unfair.

By the end, I was left with a big question mark in my mind. WHY? Why did these things have to happen to them? Why couldn't their lives have been different?

I guess that's the power of good writing, it can make you feel so deeply and leave you with so many unanswered questions. But still, compared to Middlesex, this one just didn't quite have the same impact on me.

Having just re-read this, my impressions are fresh and vivid. The ending is sharp, and is in fact an actual ending (doesn't just stop, as do so many works). It gives a sense of finality and closure that is both satisfying and thought-provoking.

The whole thing is completely evocative of the adolescent experience. It captures that feeling of being marooned, stranded on the sidelines, watching everything happen elsewhere. At the same time, one is a voyeur and intensely obsessive. Life seems to be happening off-screen, full of fascinating possibilities and hope. Eugenides has managed to boil the essence of these elements all together, and the resulting concoction is astonishing and novel. It's a unique and original work that stands out from the crowd.

It’s hard now to read this book without the ghost chords of the movie soundtrack echoing in my head. The music seems to enhance the emotions and atmosphere of the story, adding another layer of depth and complexity. It makes the reading experience even more immersive and memorable.

  
    "Obviously, doctor, you've never been a thirteen-year-old girl.”
  

The full review can be found here: https://postcardsbyelle.substack.com/...

What I always simultaneously love and am horrified by is the atmosphere that Eugenides constructs in this book. The suburb where the story is set is extremely insular. The residents are so preoccupied with themselves and their neighbors that it gives a claustrophobic feeling from beginning to end. Throughout the reading, you will have the impression that this neighborhood is the only one in the whole world. When the suffocating male gaze is added to the equation, you get breathing difficulties.


I don't have a coherent review, but what I found the most challenging yet interesting was the dichotomy between the mythologization of the Lisbon girls in the boys' minds long after adolescence and the reality of who they were: girls who never received the help they needed. Since the sisters all die before reaching adulthood, it's almost as if they are immortalized along with the boys' disturbing fascination with them. In a sense, not only have the Lisbon girls perpetually remained adolescents, but the boys have as well, unable to break free from the clutches of their infatuation with the girls and their subsequent suicides.


This book is dark and disturbing, yet hauntingly beautiful. It makes you think about the complex nature of adolescence, the power of perception, and the tragic consequences that can result from a lack of understanding and help. Eugenides has created a world that is both captivating and deeply unsettling, leaving the reader with a sense of unease long after finishing the last page.

\\n  \\n   

”All wisdom ends in paradox.”

\\n  \\n

After completing this book, I find myself in a state of unease. However, I also wonder if this is precisely the intended effect. The fact that it is written from the male gaze is a significant factor. It comes as no surprise that I didn't have an overwhelming love for it. The Lisbon girls truly deserved better. I yearned to have their perspective, but instead, we were presented with the obsessive boys misinterpreting everything and fetishizing the girls. I understand that this was the point, but due to the perspective from which it was told, it felt as if there was a lack of genuine emotion. As a result, I didn't really care about what happened or about any of the characters. In fact, I could have easily gone through the rest of my life without having read this book. It left me with a sense of dissatisfaction and a longing for a more comprehensive and empathetic portrayal of the story and its characters.

3.5 stars



  Song - Alone again by Gilbert O'Sullivan

  
    "What are you doing here, honey? You're not even old enough to know how bad life gets."
And it was then Cecilia gave orally what was to be her only form of suicide note,
"Obviously, Doctor," she said, "you've never been a thirteen-year-old girl."
  

This work often presents a very male gaze, and most of the time it seems rather purposeful. There are also some unnecessary slurs which detract from the overall quality. The story itself feels quite weak. However, the writing is truly mesmerizing. The way the sisters are shrouded in mystery and seen in an almost ethereal light by the obsessed narrators is quite interesting. In reality, they are just your average teenagers but are deeply troubled. This could have been an epic piece and had a much bigger impact if it had been given better direction. The movie, which is an exact replica of the book, unfortunately suffers from lousy acting, poor cinematography, and an overall lack of a coherent plot, making it even worse to watch than to read.