Laurie Halse Anderson was a name that immediately jumped out at me upon first glancing at the cover of this book, although at first I wasn’t quite sure why. It was only after reading her previous titles that the name Speak rung a little bell, and took me back to the time when I’d read that very book as a teenager. Speak is a novel about a troubled teenage girl who is emotionally destroyed after something unspeakable happens to her one summer. Completely traumatised, the young protagonist collapses in on herself as she continually tries to hide her pain and suffer in silence. The theme of emotional turmoil in adolescents seems to be one that resonates with Anderson, as it is also the subject matter of Wintergirls.
Lia is an anorexic 18 year old whose former demons are brought back to life after her best friend Cassie dies horribly, alone in a motel room. Lia was the last person Cassie rang before she died, only Lia never picked up the phone. Why would Cassie call her? They hadn’t spoken in months. Lia is plagued by the guilt and questions surrounding Cassie’s death, and turns to her old coping mechanism of starving herself in the hope it will block out the voices in her head, and finally allow her to reach happiness – only ten pounds away.
As an only child of divorced parents, Lia lives with her father, stepmother Jennifer and young stepsister Emma. Amid her everyday life of calorie-counting, avoidance and lying, both to her family and to herself, Lia’s strength is tested by the constant presence of Cassie, her own personal ghost.
This book is poignant, insightful and deeply sad; Anderson’s portrayal of the mind of an anorexic is both tragic and terrifying. I have always found literature surrounding the subject of anorexia completely fascinating, as only through reading about it have I realised how anorexic is so completely unlike any other disorder; it is like a virus, something that festers and multiplies deep within you, feeding on your inner self and growing stronger as it destroys. At one point in the novel Lia says:
“I wish I had cancer. I will burn in hell for that, but it’s true.”
I think this quote perfectly illustrates the complex and terrible nature of anorexia. It is so much deeper than a superficial refusal to eat; it is a constant psychological war with yourself, an internal battle that cannot be subdued by popping a few pills. The nature of the illness is so deeply ingrained into the individual’s psyche, it dominates their every thought and action. It is the voice in your head that tells you you’re disgusting, weak, stupid and ugly. It is not so much an obsession with physical appearance as a deep hatred of what is within you. It is despising yourself; it is punishing yourself for who you are while desperately trying to make yourself better, make yourself worthy. The ironic thing is that anorexia is not a sign of weakness; it takes an immeasurable amount of strength to go against every one of your body’s natural survival instincts and starve yourself. And it takes even more strength to recover from it.
The first book I ever read on the subject of anorexia was Monkey Taming, by Judith Fathallah. I read this novel when I was fairly young, and it completely opened my eyes to the nature of this illness, what it means and how it can happen. I think it is important for everyone to understand anorexia, and allow themselves to understand who can be susceptible to it and why.
Anderson has done all this and more in Wintergirls; she has provided an incredibly intimate insight (alliteration, anyone?) into Lia’s painful struggle, leaving readers with a story – and a lesson – they will be completely moved by.
Second Star To The Write 