The Lovely Bones

A good novel often challenges the concept of reality as we know it and compels us to find a greater truth than factual certainty. If we are caught up in the story, then we look through the lens of verisimilitude without doubt or question. I consider Alice Sebold’s The Lovely Bones compelling, but I found it increasingly difficult to suspend my disbelief as I neared the end of the book. Heaven is not represented in a manner consistent with my faith, and the temporary exchange of Susie’s soul for Ruth’s is beyond my scope of understanding or belief.

When Susie “falls back to the earth,” she realizes that she is not there to “chase after Mr. Harvey. I looked at Ray and knew why I was there. To take back a piece of heaven I had never known” (304). Really?? While many would agree that making love can be heavenly, can it really compare to Heaven itself? Most of the book brings the majesty of Heaven into question since Susie longs for her life on Earth. She watches her family and yearns for them. She fantasizes about Ray. She goes so far as to comment about life on Earth by saying, “Lonely, I thought, on Earth as it is in heaven.” Surely it is no oversight by Alice Sebold that Earth is capitalized, and heaven is not, an implication that her belief in the afterlife might differ from the predominantly Christian view of our culture. Even non-Christians would have to wonder about the advantage of going to Heaven if it is the heaven described in this book. It might seem great to have your favorite things replicated in the afterlife, but shouldn’t there be something more to hope for? If not, what is the incentive to make sacrifices in this life? Certainly the idea of a fourteen-year-old girl desiring to make love more than anything else seems contrary to the very idea of Heaven as it was originally defined.

Susie’s love for her family is easier for me to understand, but even then it is not the selfless love we might think of as heavenly. Knowing how desperately her little brother needs their father, his only real parent, Susie thinks to herself: “If he died, I would have him forever. Was this so wrong to want? … We stood – the dead child and the living – on either side of my father, both wanting the same thing. To have him to ourselves forever” (258). If Susie is in Heaven, isn’t she living a perfect existence? Why is she still unsatisfied and self-serving in her thinking?

True love is portrayed by Grandma Lynn, the alcoholic, ironically, since she is the one character who consistently looks out for others. She became my favorite when she applied Lindsey’s make-up for the memorial service, which meant she had to go without her own. Grandma Lynn is flawed, but she is spunky and caring. By the end of the book, Abigail learns to appreciate her mother as she thinks to herself, “When was it all right to let go not only of the dead but of the living – to learn to accept?” (318). Acceptance and love are healing to those who love and accept as well as those who receive love and acceptance.

Buckley is a sympathetic and likable character who enhances the theme of love. As a small boy, he is his father’s consolation: “Buckley drew back and stared at my father’s creased face, the fine bright spots of tears at the corners of his eyes. He nodded seriously and kissed my father’s cheek. Something so divine…the care a child took with an adult” (47). Buckley’s devotion to his father is unwavering until his father refuses to let him use Susie’s clothes in the garden. Buckley, finally frustrated, says, “You have to choose. It’s not fair” (256). I believe this scene is significant in its portrayal of grief. It is often those who are still alive who bring grieving loved ones back to life. However, the author seems to suggest something altogether different. Susie says, “You don’t notice the dead leaving when they really choose to leave you. You’re not meant to” (323). Is it the choice of the dead as the book claims? Franny, a mother figure in heaven, tells Susie that neither she nor the living will be ready to move on until she is done with the living. I see death and the afterlife much differently, but I agree that grief is the only option for those who lose a loved one.

Grief is a compelling theme in the novel, but I was distracted by the lack of verisimilitude in the plot and the narration. I simply could not suspend disbelief regarding Susie and Ray or concerning the descriptions of heaven. I felt eager to finish the book because I wanted the murder mystery to be solved, but even that fell short of my expectations. I wanted to know more about Mr. Harvey, but his accidental death by the foreshadowed icicle left me feeling unsatisfied…but probably not as much as a heaven that makes one wish for life on Earth.

Jemima Jones Journal

“But fairy tales can come true, and just like Jemima Jones, or Mrs. Ben Williams as she’s known outside the glossy magazine where she now works, if we trust ourselves, embrace our faults, and brazen it out with courage, strength, bravery, and truth, fate may just smile upon us too” (Green 373). The closing words of Jane Green’s Jemima Jones clarify one of the themes for those who may have skimmed over it or somehow missed the blatant references to it. In case Jemima herself does not reveal the themes to the reader, the third person interruptions explain the obvious. The book is not only par for “Chick Lit,” but also standard as a fairy tale with the perfectly happy ending. However, this fairy tale will not scare the children into listening to Mommy and Daddy, and there will be no bread crumb trail for girls to leave if they fly across the globe to meet men they don’t really know.

The Jemima fairy tale ends happily in every way despite the risks she takes. The book is perhaps one level above a Harlequin romance and probably akin to a Nora Roberts novel. Jemima’s reunion with Ben proves to be every bit as sappy: “‘Jemima,’ he whispers, as the smile leaves my face, and then, without planning it, thinking about it, we both stand up at exactly the same time and fall into one another’s arms” (354). And presumably the reader says, “Aaaaah” on the exhale as she cocks her head sweetly to the side. How sweet…the man who always valued her friendship now desires Jemima romantically…now that she is thin.

The messages in this book about perfect physiques, anorexic-like dieting, internet dating, and conditional love are dangerous ideas to support. The perfect “hard bodies” and unhealthy dieting represented in Jemima’s story duplicate what the covers of all the glamour magazines are already telling young females: You must be waif-like and flawless in order to be beautiful. While the romantic fantasy of “Chick Lit” is probably harmless, the messages about beauty are reprehensible. The American culture inundates females with the message that thin is beautiful, and imperfect bodies are unattractive, which drives some young girls to unhealthy extremes as Jemima exemplifies when she turns down a lunch date with Ben: “…Jemima would not have been able to make it to the gym tonight, so she skips lunch and exercises during her lunch break instead” (152). While exercising during lunch is not unhealthy in and of itself, Jemima’s visits to the gym occur more than once a day. “Might it be thus assumed that Jemima has become just a touch obsessive…” (152). Jemima’s diet and exercise regime become unhealthy as the third person narrator points out.

Both the third person narrator and Jemima explain too much as if they fear the reader is not sharp enough to understand the themes without help. For example, while in the book store, Jemima thinks, “Covers, so many covers, so many different, delectable pictures, and although, metaphorically speaking, it is the thing I hate most, when it comes to literature I always judge books by their covers” (52). Jemima’s thought opposes the superficiality about beauty in the story, but it is also a great irony since the cover of this book shows a scantily clad rear end, bare legs, and stiletto heels. The legs are positioned in the pose of a sex kitten, suggesting a much more tawdry story than the one underneath the cover. Despite the irony, Jemima’s thoughts in this scene begin the theme development that is summarized on the last page of the book.

The summarized theme refers to “courage, strength, bravery, and truth” (373). I have to wonder whether flying to meet Brad proves that Jemima is brave or foolhardy. Internet dating is dangerous because people can easily misrepresent themselves. Since this book falls into the “Chick Lit” genre, we can safely assume before we finish reading that Jemima will not be chopped into bits and stored in sandwich bags in Brad’s freezer. Then again, the fact that she comes out of the situation unscathed promotes internet dating as a safe and healthy way for young girls to find boyfriends. Jemima is not only safe at the end of it, but better for her experience. She learns that beautiful Brad loves overweight women, she wins the love of her heartthrob, Ben, and she lands the job of her dreams.

Sure, there are positive messages in the book about the confidence gained through healthy eating and exercise, but what does this book say about love? Did Ben love Jemima all along from the time he began confiding in her? Or did he only fall in love with her when he saw that she was thin and beautiful? Traditional fairy tales usually offer a moral to the story that teaches children about safety, justice, etc. This fairy tale is truly a fantasy with no moral to the story. The dangers of internet dating are not exposed, and Jemima’s anorexic tendencies simply go away. Jemima Jones is mildly entertaining, but it is not a book that promotes healthy attitudes for young chicks.