THE PACT (by Jodi Picoult)
It’s not often that a book punches me in the gut, but The Pact hit me hard in so many different ways that I’m still catching my breath. On the surface, The Pact is a legal drama with 17-year-old Chris at the center, the only survivor of a suicide pact with his best friend, Emily. But the surface story is thin, and only highlights the meatier questions below it. Is it possible to truly know your own child? What does it mean — really mean – to love someone truly, deeply? What kind of love believes doing the right thing transcends what is legal or even moral?
The Pact reminds me of the movie Leaving Las Vegas, the story of a despair-ridden man who moves to Las Vegas to drink himself to death, and the woman who loves him enough to help him do it. Like The Pact, it made me ask what “being supportive” really means. How far would you go to support someone you love? Would you help them die?
I had a little trouble with Chris’s mother, Gus, who seems blindly supportive of her son without even a whisper of doubt or guilt over his role in Emily’s death. And the end, while satisfying, feels hastily written. But these tiny flaws are easily outweighed by the rest of this lovely, lovely novel. I especially appreciated the complexity of the parents’ marriages, and how they were affected by the actions of their children. Picoult uses a sure hand in writing from different points of view, including fathers, mothers, children, and even peripheral characters like an attorney and a therapist. And the PS Edition is especially nice, with behind-the-scenes info about how the book came to be.
I’ve recommended The Pact to my closest friend, whose children are nearly inseparable from mine. I’m tempted to send it to my teenage niece N, who feels more alone than she should. I plan to tell my book club about it, and my legal-drama-loving dad. And you should read it, too. It’s a compelling story that will stay with you long after you turn the last page.
First sentence: “There was nothing left to say.”
Loveliest sentence: “It was Thursday, a quiet day in the cemetery, so that the voice of the rabbi seemed to carry, floating up to the branches of the trees where the finches watched with their button black eyes, their beaks closing around the words as if prayers were as nourishing as thistle seed.”
Recommended By: No one gave me this book or asked me to review it. I bought it so long ago I’d forgotten about it. It just happened to be on top of the very large stack of books teetering next to my nightstand.
I’m at the mercy of the blogosphere. Tell me what to read and I’ll put it in the queue on the sidebar!
Oh, look at me in the sidebar! I feel so famous!
Here is another one: If I am Missing or Dead by Janine Latus, a story of two women and their shared experiences of terrible relationships with men. very sad and shocking in some parts, but very important read, in my book.
monica