I finished The Impossible Knife of Memory this week. I was home alone for a brief moment, tearing through the final pages, hand over mouth, holding back tears. After closing the cover, I broke.
Laurie Halse Anderson's novel focuses on Haley, a high school senior who is fighting as much trauma as her father who has returned from war with PTSD. Haley spent her childhood with her mother (momentarily), her grandmother, her kind-of step mom, and now her father. She's driven the countryside, fleeing from one situation to the next new adventure repeatedly. Finally, she is in a real high school with real "zombie" students and a real schedule... and it's too real. Over time, she adjusts with the help of a friend and a dashing, witty math tutor/hot boy. But don't read that and think this is a fluffy, sappy, drippy romance (and so what if it was?)! Haley is tough and strong and scared. She is responsible and adult - in contrast to her father. She is vulnerable and confused, determined and witty, lost. Her father is violent and abusive and loving, and she must parent him while trying to grow herself. It is hard.
At times, the book is frightening. At other times, it's hysterical. And then kind. And then tragic. When the climax happened - the big twist - I sat with my hand over my mouth while I read. I knew it was going to happen, and yet I still gasped. But that wasn't what got me.
This novel is set in senior year, a year of worry and discovery. Senior year leads to the future and changing relationships. And, as I read the final scene, I was immediately back on my front porch, clutching my own arms instead of his as he backed out of the driveway. He stopped in front of my house, rolled down the window, and whispered barely audibly, "I love you" and then drove away. Away to his home, then plane, then college. Far away. Without me.
I will never, never lose that image. I also can't shake the thing that grows in the pit of my stomach every time I'm flung back to that moment. I'm old; that moment was years ago. Yet it lives.
And thankfully, I was alone at home when I closed the book and deflated.
I do not harbor any ill will toward Halse Anderson for sending me back in time. In fact, I'm grateful. It's what fantastic lit does. It reminds us of who we are on the inside. And of who we love. And of being human.
Laurie Halse Anderson's novel focuses on Haley, a high school senior who is fighting as much trauma as her father who has returned from war with PTSD. Haley spent her childhood with her mother (momentarily), her grandmother, her kind-of step mom, and now her father. She's driven the countryside, fleeing from one situation to the next new adventure repeatedly. Finally, she is in a real high school with real "zombie" students and a real schedule... and it's too real. Over time, she adjusts with the help of a friend and a dashing, witty math tutor/hot boy. But don't read that and think this is a fluffy, sappy, drippy romance (and so what if it was?)! Haley is tough and strong and scared. She is responsible and adult - in contrast to her father. She is vulnerable and confused, determined and witty, lost. Her father is violent and abusive and loving, and she must parent him while trying to grow herself. It is hard.
At times, the book is frightening. At other times, it's hysterical. And then kind. And then tragic. When the climax happened - the big twist - I sat with my hand over my mouth while I read. I knew it was going to happen, and yet I still gasped. But that wasn't what got me.
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| Mrs. Rooks & I meeting Laurie Halse Anderson at NCTE 2015! She was so nice! |
This novel is set in senior year, a year of worry and discovery. Senior year leads to the future and changing relationships. And, as I read the final scene, I was immediately back on my front porch, clutching my own arms instead of his as he backed out of the driveway. He stopped in front of my house, rolled down the window, and whispered barely audibly, "I love you" and then drove away. Away to his home, then plane, then college. Far away. Without me.
I will never, never lose that image. I also can't shake the thing that grows in the pit of my stomach every time I'm flung back to that moment. I'm old; that moment was years ago. Yet it lives.
And thankfully, I was alone at home when I closed the book and deflated.
I do not harbor any ill will toward Halse Anderson for sending me back in time. In fact, I'm grateful. It's what fantastic lit does. It reminds us of who we are on the inside. And of who we love. And of being human.
I need EMJOGIs and lots of them!!! If i could put emjogi's on here it world be a BIG GIANT :0!!!!!!
ReplyDeleteWhen you book talk or book blog an angel gets its wings because that is how awesome your book talks / blogs are.
Is this book better than We Were Liars?