Every Day

A couple days ago, I finished reading "Every Day", by David Levithan. I'd originally purchased the book as a present for my older sister Emmy, since David Levithan is one of her favorite writers. I got the book at Politics & Prose, and attended a book reading and signing for it (as well as "Beneath a Meth Moon", by Jacqueline Woodson) to get it signed for Emmy. However, I was then so interested in the book that I decided to read it myself before giving it away. I expected this to be easy; however, since I had just started a new book ("Snow Flower and the Secret Fan"), had two reading assignments for school at the same time, and had a ridiculously busy December, I didn't finish the book before my sister came home from college, or before I gave it to her. She teased me about my lack of subtlety--I left the book lying around by mistake, and she saw it numerous times--but the autograph was still a surprise, so I didn't mind.

"Every Day" is centered around the unique life of A, who wakes up every day in a different body, living a different life. There is no way to control where A will wake up, and there is no way to stay in a certain body. A has no attachments, no future, no possessions. And A has made peace with that--until A wakes up in the body of Justin, and meets Justin's girlfriend, Rhiannon. A loves Rhiannon. But is that enough?

*SPOILER ALERT*

No.


Now, please don’t get me wrong. Levithan is a fantastic writer, and “Every Day” is a terrific book. However, the uniqueness of A’s situation makes A’s problems difficult to relate to, and, since the book doesn’t end happily and A’s situation is incredibly depressing, it becomes Unrealistic Depressing Fiction (UDF), which is my least favorite genre. (The Hunger Games series and “My Sister’s Keeper” are also good examples of UDF. It’s as if the author is just making up scenarios to make you cry. There are plenty of real-life horribly depressing things in life. We do NOT need any more).

Just thinking about A’s life makes you sad. A has no past, no recurring characters, no home, no friends, no family. There is no way A can hold onto anything—as A points out near the end of the book, A can’t even carry around a picture of Rhiannon, let alone be in a relationship with someone. When A was little, it upset A when people (borrowed parents or friends) spoke about ‘tomorrow’, or tried to make plans of the future: A would start crying, saying that they wouldn’t be there tomorrow. The person would reassure A that of course they would be there. Then A would wake up, and of course they weren’t there. God, it’s heartbreaking. Lonely forever. What is the point of A’s existence? How can one go on like that? There’s not even some future to look forward to, to work towards. When one feels down, and questions the meaning of one’s existence, feeling like a small, infinitesimally small, infinitesimally pathetic speck of dust in the wide, wide universe, it is at least some consolation to merely continue on with your life. Eat a bagel. Go for a run. Read a book. Chat with a friend. You might be small and pathetic and useless and meaningless, but life’s pretty nice. If it’s not, you can work towards it being nice. Life goes on.

But not for A. A’s circumstances change every day. What can you do? A can’t even commit suicide, because it would also kill the person whose body A is in.

Now, if you’re still with me, and I haven’t totally put you off this book, it is actually very good. It’s really, really interesting, mostly due to the insight into the lives of the countless people A inhabits. The expression ‘walk a mile in someone else’s shoes’ doesn’t even begin to cover it. One of our chief problems as human beings is our persistent inability to understand and empathize with our fellows. This intolerance is not intentional, or at the very least wasn’t in the beginning. Think about it: if you had never seen another human being, what would you imagine human beings to look like? In other words, if you only knew yourself, how accepting would you be of others? I am tall. It is therefore reasonable for me to assume—having no other basis for What a Human is Like than myself—that a human being who is short is freakish in some way. Naturally, this is wrong, but unless I am taught otherwise, it is the logical conclusion. The only person you know in and out is yourself. The diversity in our bloodlines, and the cultural melting pot of our cities, makes us accustomed to all different colors and races. However, when we encounter something (a custom, religion, tradition, etc) that we don’t recognize, we condemn it is wrong because it is unfamiliar. Again, this is not intentional intolerance—we are hardwired to reject as scary and weird that which we do not know to be safe and normal. But by this point in our civilization, we really ought to be able to manage this impulse and be freakin’ open-minded already. We are all human. We all want the same things—food, shelter, safety, love, acceptance. Let’s just live in peace, okay?

Why can’t I get through a blog post without an off-topic rant?

Anyway.

A lives in some pretty interesting people. Since I’m interested in psychology, one of the most interesting for me was a girl with depression. Depression is a largely misunderstood mental disorder that causes a person to have low mood, energy, and functioning. It is not just sadness, and the person cannot just get over it. In fact, due to the uniqueness of each person’s psyche, there is no one treatment for depression. Talk therapy and certain medications have proven to be the most effective, but what works for one person does not necessarily work for others, which is why depression (as well as other mental disorders) is so difficult to treat. However, one of the keys to understanding depression is recognizing that it is a condition that the person can’t help, and which affects their whole level of functioning. When A wakes up in the body of the girl with depression, A can sense it immediately. The senses are muted. The thoughts are slow. It is difficult to maintain interest in anything, let alone get anything done. Even though A’s mind is separate from the girl’s, and does not hold the sadness and pain that may have been a factor in causing her depression, A is affected by her illness, because it has become part of her body, and she cannot get rid of it. At least, not alone: A looks through her journal, and discovers that she is planning to kill herself in six days. The girl’s mother isn’t there, and her father doesn’t pay attention to her. She doesn’t have close friends. To save her life, A confronts her father, telling him that he has to get her help: take her to a doctor, hospitalize her, anything. Depression is serious, and its consequences can be permanent. If you know someone who you worry is thinking about hurting him/herself, talk to a trusted adult, like a parent or a counselor. Do not worry that you are betraying their confidence, or that they’ll be mad at you. They deserve to live.

Anyway.

A also experiences life as a severely obese boy, as an extremely hot girl, and one half of a gay couple. I’m not going to go into another rant—three is enough for this post—but let’s just be nice to each other, okay, and not judge based on appearances or what you think you know about people. Okay? Great.

The last thing I want to point out about this book—which you should totally read even though I just spoiled it for you and criticized it at length, it really is really super good—is the concept that initially fascinated me, and the moral lessons to take away from the book. What most interested me about this book prior to reading it was the concept of who we actually are, outside of our physical properties and surroundings. While not having a body or life of one’s own would, as I pointed out above, be lonely and depressing and awful, it would also be incredibly liberating. Think about it. Imagine yourself merely as a self, without a body. If you could be anyone, who would you be? A does not have a gender. A does not have body image. No one has perceptions or impressions of A, and A does not have to worry about how other people view A. If you could be anyone, who would you be? If your consciousness/soul/personality was not influenced by others around you, what would it be like? What would you be like? What would you do? How would you think, create, love, believe? The possibilities are endless. And that, I believe, is the moral lesson we are meant to take away from the book: the life you are stuck in should not influence who you are as a person. In other words, even if your circumstances are unkind, choose to be kind. Even if your situation is hopeless, choose to be hopeful. Even—especially—if your life is bad, choose to be good. At the end of the book, A discovers that there is a way to stay in a body, to steal someone’s life. If A did that, A could be with Rhiannon. Forever. The entire book has been based around the question ‘how can A stay with Rhiannon’, and this is the answer. But A doesn’t do it, because stealing someone’s life is worse than murder. A gives up Rhiannon—giving her to another person at the same time—because it’s the right thing to do.

Make the right choice. Be a good person. Also, read this book.