The Impossible Knife of Memory By Laurie Halse Anderson
- Feb 4, 2015
- 3 min read
4 stars
What you need to know:
Laurie Halse Anderson is one of the best when it comes to creating memorable, relatable voices, it's not easy managing both. Her heroines are flawed and still learning--but then so is everyone. Her characters all exist in a world where everyone is dealing with shit, complicated, ugly shit and no one is better or more important than the others.
The Impossible Knife of Memory's message is one about finding strength in ownership. What matters more than anything is taking pride in yourself and your life. This is what leads to good decision-making, emotional strength, seeking help when you need it, resolving relationship issues face-to-face, and ultimately greater self-confidence.
Laurie weaves a beautiful, sorrowful story about finding this strength in yourself and in others through the lens of an inseperable dad and daughter relationship--it left me crying in Philz coffee.
Plot:
Hayley's childhood is a tragedy and she has spent her adolescence locking away the memories that scar her: a mom that died when she was young, a grandmother that passed soon after, a step-mother figure that left her, and a father that can't beat his PTSD. He certainly tries though. Hayley spent the last few years touring the country on her dad's truck, getting home-schooled, and eating more processed gas station food than any of her peers. She picked up his wit and knowledge of history, along with his anger, cynicism, and deep sense of loss.
It wasn't easy, and they finally decide to move back into the town that Hayley grew up in. She must try public school for the first time as a junior. She has one friend, Gracie, that introduces her to others including, Finn, a fun, quirky, smart ex-swimmer that becomes more than just a math tutor. She struggles in school and seems to shrug off her teachers--though on the fringes you can tell that her counselor and math teacher really do care.
Despite everything looking up, her dad, Andy, is getting worse. He never used to black out before, he keeps losing jobs, and now he's smoking weed, which means creepy dealers hanging around the house. Everything escalates quickly and Hayley feels like she is losing control--so it does. She lets everything go so that she can take care of her dad.
But Finn makes her see by asking the right question: "When will he take care of you?"
I won't spoil the ending, except for that the story does offer a message of hope. Sometimes in the most brutal, terrifying, dark experiences there is a certain beauty that will stay with you forever. Hayley just needs to find a way to break the ice.
Discussion
The beauty of this book is that Laurie's writing--through the use of alternating chapters that cut into the narrative like a knife of memory--depicts the tragedy and trauma of warfare in language that is palatable. I can't say simple--her writing is not simple--but the cleanness of it and seamlessness of it, allows your heart to take in the weight of the events of the story and experience it through Hayley's eyes.
Hayley is not perfect. She does categorize the world into Freaks and Zombies. She does seem undecided and lost at times. She does seem to let her heart control her. She does not always make the decisions she should--she is an average teenager. In my opinion, Hayley is someone that is the best of both worlds: a flawed heroine (because there is no such thing as a perfect one) that is someone to be looked up to. She made way better decisions than I did when I was that age!
Many reviewers talk about how the book "glosses over" PTSD. I won't argue because I dont feel qualified, but I will say that there is a scene in the book in which Hayley, an 18-year-old highschooler without a driver's license must go pick up her unconscious, bloody and vomitting father from a bar in a dangerous part of the city. She enters the bar and every single person, even the "addicts, tweekers, and crack heads" pity her. That scene resonated with me. It's not a book about her father's illness. It's a YA book about the trickle-down affect of a terrible, disastrous disease that spreads in a way that is less curable than a biological virus. By saying that the book "glosses over" PTSD may be telling others' that their experience with it is not legitimate. We must consider others.
These are hard issues and Laurie confronts them, accepts the challenge to write about what others dare not write about, and does it through the eyes of a teenager--while maintaining a style of writing that is entertaining, heart-felt. Maybe some don't take this into consideration when rating books, but I think a book should be read in context and Laurie will always have a place on my bookshelf.
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