I have blogged about this book before. I remember posting a review written by Jessica Zafra on my then Friendster blog. (I used to maintain a blog on Friendster, but now it only consists of links to this site). Again I’m blogging about it because I’ve decided to read it for the second time after I got it back from Andrea. She borrowed it months ago but she wasn’t able to read it. I doubt if she even bothered to lift a page. That’s a shame. The book is worth reading at least once. It’s a mortal sin to pass up. Yes, it’s that good.
I remember when I finally finished the last page. I remained staring at blank space, motionless, as though hypnotized. It felt like I’ve been deeply involved with the tragedy of the Lisbon girls. I was one with the boys’ frustration of not being able to answer the questions they were seeking answers for. I was with them as they eternally peer through their windows, watching the girls’ every move and looking for evidences that they still exist beyond their confinement. Holding treasure every note, signal, and gesture that the girls directed towards them before they began killing themselves.
The Virgin Suicides is one of the most compelling books I’ve read in recent years. Both wickedly funny and elegiac. I love the tone and how the author presented his allegories. He presents us with a grief, so elegantly written you wouldn’t mind being intoxicated with it.
I have heard before that a movie was made out of this book and had Kirsten Dunst play as one of the girls. Unfortunately, though it was written and directed by Academy winner Sofia Coppola, it wasn’t as brilliant as the book. Still, I would want to see a copy.
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