The Virgin Suicides

Christmas Eve, I read The Virgin Suicides by Jeffrey Eugenides. The wry plot somehow made the syrupy taste of the noche buena more palatable even as the sound of off-key caroling outside the gates continued to heap on calories on the holiday cheer way past midnight. When books like that fall on my lap for no apparent reason, I usually go ahead and read it for I know then, fate always has an interesting reason up its sleeve.

Probably to distract me from being too nosy about his love life, my older brother -- who’s managed to take a couple of days off from kite boarding in Boracay and visit us home -- showed me the book earlier while our north-bound van crawled through the heavy traffic along Mandaue highway. It didn’t look familiar but the picture of four lovely girls making do like well-bred sardines on a small bed below a crucifix draped by a cream-colored brassiere tickled my interest for the bizarre.

So like a voyeur across the street with no name, I joined the boys who adored the entrancing Lisbon sisters in monitoring their lives from a neighboring house.

The first one to go was weird Cecilia, 13, who slit her wrists and, when it didn’t work, later on threw herself off the window (or was it the roof?) and fell upon the fence to die.

After some time, the rest of them followed -- daring Lux (14), conservative Bonnie (15), vain Mary (16), and science nerd Therese (17). Suicide methods include using a rope, sticking one’s head in a microwave, and drowning in sleeping pills. Mary was the last one to die. She survived her attempt at the microwave, so she went on to using the more reliable sleeping pills. It was noted she had make up on when she finally died.

The story’s quite interesting but I didn’t like the way it was told. The constant reference to the general teen suicide trend, with accompanying stats and psycho babble just made it so, so… preachy.

And goodness, could the narrator be any more long-winded? He seemed too enthralled describing every useless detail, skirting around the house and the girls’ lives, without ever really letting us in. What a tease! From time to time, I longed to shout, “Puhleez, shut up and get on with the story!”

Perhaps it was meant to be that way for the teller was a spectator himself. But when you have suicide and five girls on your hands, you’d be itching to know why and what goes on in the victims’ minds. Suppositions aren’t enough. I wanted to hear them talk more. I longed to go inside the book myself and discover the real story.

Was it because they were guarded too much by their parents? But I know of people with ultra-strict parents and yet they survived. What’s more, why ALL of them? They were beautiful, vibrant girls. Their parents loved them. They had each other. Their cramped, messy rooms testified they lived like normal girls. Was it genetic then? Or was it just too much of a pressure being isolated in their old house after Cecilia died? What was it like then?

My many questions followed me to the toilet. And as I sat there farting, contemplating, and speculating, I finally figured a few theories of my own:

-- Having had to share cramped rooms drove the sisters mad and triggered the suicides.

My sister and I shared a room until I graduated from high school. Yes, it was fun but I also remember the shouting matches, the “I’m-gonna-kill-you-for-using-my-shirt/dress/sandals/brush/etc.-without-permission” moments, the screams over “this-is-my-side-of-the-room” violations, the frustration of knowing each other’s secrets and being able to use them as blackmail items when one of us was pissed off, and the countless arguments over the littlest thing.

Good thing though there were just two of us and we have an older brother who sometimes forces us to momentarily cease fire, unite, and gang up on him when he’s being his naturally annoying self (which is quite often). And then there were the parents, constantly refereeing us and lecturing about love.

But maybe for the five Lisbon sisters it was different. Maybe, if left unchecked, too much familiarity does breed contempt (against others and most probably against self). At least, from experience I know that lack of space is enough to drive you mad.

-- Being isolated and stuck in one place for too long bored them so much they wanted to kill themselves. Ayayay! What a thought! Let’s go pack those bags and fly now, pay later!

-- Suiciditis is contagious.

Cecilia probably got the virus from the boy who killed himself over another girl. And living in such close proximity, the rest of the sisters also got infected.

So the lesson here I guess is, when counseling a suicidal person, we sympathize but we also make sure we put the walls up. If we’re not careful, that person will start making sense to us and before we know it, we’ll be thinking of suicide too.

-- The sisters probably made one of those stupid Musketeer pacts when they were little. You know, the “one for all, all for one” or the “together forever” kind of pact. I guess in their case, it was “One dies for all, all dies for one.”

Sigh. Only the innocence of youth could prompt such a pact. As you grow older though, you realize that every one lives and leaves to find one’s own destiny. There is no such thing as being together forever – even for soul mates.

-- The Lisbon sisters chanced upon the seeming worldwide conspiracy to annihilate and torture all virgins of this time. Probably got it from watching too much TV—which they did since they weren’t allowed to go out that often. Maybe they’re afraid that when they reach their 20s with their hymen still intact, people will start to pressure them or brand them as freaks.

Lux tried to solve this problem by sneaking to the roof with the boys and her varied contraceptive collection. But I guess the rest of the sisters weren’t as bold. So rather than fall into the vindictive hands of the enemy, they decided to end their lives themselves. Lux, not wanting to be left out – and probably finding out that being a non-virgin isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be – joined them.

Uh-huh, maybe it does sound farfetched. But this theory is more believable than the one that goes -- the Lisbon sisters killed themselves for loving the same man. Now that is just plain stupid.

I’m curious about The Virgin Suicides’ film version, though. I heard it’s already out in the market. Kirsten Dunst plays one of the girls -- I’m thinking Lux. Sounds promising. Still, I wonder if or just how Hollywood would make me wanna flush it down the toilet.