Review: Wintergirls, by Laurie Halse Anderson

Wintergirls is a poem in novel form, filled with metaphor, one that successfully navigates the troubled mind of a teenage girl obsessed with being the skinniest. It's also a semi-monster book, using the idea of a Wintergirl as a being that is half alive, half dead - or vice versa. That's how Laurie Halse Anderson paints girls who suffer eating disorders, as people close to death. But those who have died from an eating disorder are also Wintergirls, haunting those still alive. This is a powerful, daring novel that will challenge adults as well as the younger audience it is aimed at.

The novel is told from the point of view of Lia, whose best friend, Cassie, has recently been found dead in a motel. Her death haunts Lia in part because she feels guilty for it. The two tried to be the skinniest together, competed to do so, so that even when Lia was institutionalized she merely saw those trying to help her as obstacles to her goal. Only she knew what was best for her. So meticulous, so cunning, had Lia become that she learned how to trick her parents and stepmom, though of course they have their nagging doubts.

Lia is a complicated narrator, a risky sort for girls in her position to read, because some readers may not understand that she is an unreliable narrator. But putting the reader in this position is also an effective way to peer into the mindset of somebody suffering an eating disorder, which is really more a mental disorder. Lia is obsessive about her weight. She eyeballs food and makes mental calculations about the calorie count. She devises ways to make people believe she is eating healthy by eating regular dinners but skipping breakfast and lunch. She sees food and desires to eat it, but repeats in her head mantras - "stupid/ugly/fat" - to help her stay her course. She's egotistical and hypercritical of others, though the criticism is more thought than spoken. Very few people come out positively in her mind - Emma, her younger stepsister, being probably the only one she has nothing bad to say or think about. Of course, this might describe many teenagers, still so stuck in their own heads to realize that others are just like them.

Anderson describes her writing as quirky, and she does use some unusual flair, but it's purposeful and not overly dense. At times, Lia's narration is entirely made up of metaphor, such as when describing other people. This is a nice bit of poetry, to be sure, but it also describes Lia's state of detachment. There are plenty of times when phrases and sentences are crossed out, as though Lia is editing her mind, usually correcting any cravings. These help show her subconscious, her thoughts that accidentally leak through, and the obsessive way she keeps on her self-destructive track. Anderson's repetition of the phrase, right-aligned and in a smaller font, "...body found in a motel room, alone..." reveals how haunted Lia feels about the death of her friend, a thought in the back of her mind, hence the smaller text. Lastly, Anderson sets off flashbacks with paragraphs beginning in italics, but not entirely written in italics. These all help the novel flow while showing the complexities of Lia's disturbed mind.

Plot is not necessarily the point, but the story itself is excellent. Anderson sidesteps many tropes of young adult books, and this doesn't read like typical YA. Lia's family show more complexities than your typical YA family. While Lia's father borders on being negligent, her two moms - her biological mother and her stepmom - seem more concerned for her condition. Her stepmom weighs her and does regular check ups, and her mom criticizes her father for not doing enough to make sure Lia doesn't slide into dangerous territory, as if he has any say over her mental state. Anderson does show moments where he cares, and he seems more like a person who wants to deny something is wrong, and that can be an effective defense when things are out of your control.

One thing Anderson avoids doing is placing any blame for Lia's eating disorder. That she wants to be skinny is a desire of hers from a young age, and not borne from sights of thin models on TV and magazines. This is interesting because this is where popular culture places blame for a woman's lack of confidence in her own body. Perhaps it's not so simple. Yes, the sight of an attractive woman on a magazine cover no doubt stirs feelings of envy, just as the sight of a muscular, attractive man temporarily gives myself thoughts of hitting the gym and cutting back on those sweets. But for many this is a passing thought. Not all woman decide to become anorexic or bulimic at the sight of a model, just as those who suffer obsessive-compulsive disorder don't have a trigger. While it's easy to place the blame on something that one can tangibly see (and I'm not saying those photos of women are blameless), it may not be a particularly helpful way to identify the problem. Sometimes these things are more complex than it appears. As Lia shows, there may not be any origin to the mental state that leads to an eating disorder, but one can't overcome it alone.