- Before I fall. Lauren Oliver. Samantha Kingston is having a near perfect ‘Cupid Day’ (February 12), enjoying her high school popularity, the company of her best friends, the promise of losing her virginity to her hunk of a boyfriend and an amazing party in a mansion. Too bad it’s the last day of her life, as she’s killed in a car accident minutes after leaving the party.
And then the day repeats itself, with Sam seemingly being the only one to notice.
She is destined to relieve her final day over and over until —what? She must solve the mystery behind her own death (and life) before she finally runs out of time for good.
A fairly remarkable YA debut novel. The premise of a character re-living a particular day has been done numerous times in television, movies and books; this one, however, has the curiosity of making the time loop a metaphor of sorts for the process of grief. Sam goes through denial, bargaining, anger, depression and acceptance —and in this case the death she is mourning is her own.
I saw the movie adaptation of this book a couple years ago, and quite enjoyed it (it’s one of the very few recent YA movies I’ve seen where the teenaged characters were actually allowed to act, look and sound like teenagers), and so decided to look up the book as well. Oliver’s debut novel manages to avoid most of the pitfalls of contemporary YA —as in the movie adaptation, the characters are believable as teenagers (it probably helps that Oliver drew most of the details from real life). While there is a moral current to the story, it’s mostly organic to the characters.
There are two common flaws that the book can’t avoid, however. First is the near complete absence of variety in the cast: It’s a story set in Connecticut with a cast seemingly made up of nothing but high-middle-class suburban white kids. The one exception to the rule is one lower-income kid with artistic leanings (changed to a token lesbian in the movie; the books’ sole mention of queerness being the by now stereotypical “homophobes are just closeted gay people” stock character).
Another flaw is the kind of romantic triangle where the seemingly perfect guy is revealed to be nothing less than repulsive while the ‘loser with a lifelong crush’ is revealed to be, in a word: Perfect. For that matter, most of the male characters in this book have very little, if any, development…
…on the other hand, the female characters, from adult to children, are quite developed, with the narration taking advantage of the time loop to reveal several subtle details and motivations. Much has been made of Sam’s evolution from “shallow to compassionate” (to be honest, I didn’t find her quite so unpleasant as most critics did at the beginning. I found her to be a fairly common self-absorbed kid. Which might say something about YA critics…); true, but what I found even more remarkable is Sam’s group of friends. Quite a few writers would have been content to leave those characters with the superficial image presented at first: The mean ring-leader (Lindsay), the ditz (Ally) and the bimbo (Elody). But they reveal plenty of shades and complexity as the story advances, becoming nuanced characters in their own right. They are also believably portrayed as close friends, something that’s become strangely rare in fiction intended for children and teenagers.
In sort, it’s a pretty interesting novel that I’d recommend especially to people looking for contemporary teen’s fiction.
The 2106 Harper edition includes two bonus stories, “In the beginning” and “Sixteen candles” (they feel more like extended scenes), and a couple essays from author Oliver as well as trivia.
And a personal anecdote: I usually read on long trips to or from work in the subway and other means of public transportation. When I was reading this book, I caught quite a few kids trying to read over my shoulder, which had never really happened before. Apparently this book is quite popular with it’s target audience…