Caitlin and Ingrid were best friends. They were practically inseparable, sharing a love of photography, music, laughing at themselves and others. One night they were talking about their futures, and the next morning, Ingrid was dead, having committed suicide.
Ingrid's death shakes Caitlin at her very foundation. Ingrid didn't leave a note, but Caitlin realizes there were so many times where she should have said something to Ingrid when she noticed her erratic moods, her cutting herself, her crying jags. Could she have saved her friend?
When school resumes in the fall, Caitlin has to navigate her way without Ingrid for the first time. She's a jumble of emotions—anger, loneliness, guilt, grief—and doesn't like being an object of curiosity to her classmates, who want to know how Ingrid killed herself and whether she left a note. Even their favorite photography teacher treats her like a pariah.
Then Caitlin finds Ingrid's journal under her bed, where Ingrid presumably left it for her to find. As she reads Ingrid's words, she begins to understand more clearly just how troubled her friend was, how she struggled to find self-worth, tried to will the boy she liked to reciprocate her feelings, and how she wanted Caitlin to understand what she was feeling but was afraid she'd treat her differently or worse, not want to be friends with her.
"Maybe there is no right thing to say. Maybe the right thing is just a myth, not really out there at all."
Nina LaCour's exquisite, emotional debut novel, Hold Still, chronicles Caitlin's first year of living without her best friend. It is a year of trying to comprehend this loss, wanting to lean on people yet not wanting to let anyone else in or be vulnerable, and a year of understanding there was little that could have been done to prevent Ingrid's death. It's a story about how to find the strength to move on, to identify rays of hope again, and realize that making new friends isn't betraying the memory of the one you lost.
This book is also a tremendously candid look at the effects a suicide has on the lives of those left behind. From parents to friends to teachers to crushes, everyone is affected in some way, and LaCour beautifully explores the range of emotions and actions that are caused by such a tragedy. I expected this book to make me cry and it certainly did, but it wasn't as maudlin as I feared it might be—it is powerful and immensely poignant.
I've been a fan of LaCour's writing since reading You Know Me Well, a book she wrote with David Levithan, a few years ago. Last month I read We Are Okay, and was again captivated by her tremendous storytelling ability. She is a writer whose work you really need to read, for its beauty and its emotional power.
On the off chance that someone reading this review is in crisis or having suicidal thoughts, please know that there are people standing by to listen to you and help you. Please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 800-273-8255, the Trevorlifeline for LGBTQ+ Youth at 866-488-7386, or if you are in the U.S., you can text "HOME" to 741741, which will reach the Crisis Text Line.
I didn't know what I was getting myself into when I picked up this book. I felt an instant connection with Caitlin and especially Ingrid, probably because of so many shared experiences. My dad committed suicide when I was a kid and I've lived with depression and emotional trauma my whole life. Self-harm has been a way of coping with all the pain.
ReplyDeleteI've never read a book that affected me in such a strong way before. It was a heart-rending and soul-crushing experience that reduced me to tears. I was restless and on edge for the rest of the day and the day after because I couldn't stop thinking about it.
I've read many forgettable books, and quite a few that stayed with me for a couple of days after. I already know that "Hold Still" is different. I will surely remember it for quite a while.