70 Favorite Books: The Virgin Suicides
56. The Virgin Suicides by Jeffrey Eugenides (1999)
It didn’t matter in the end how old they had been, or that they were girls, but only that we had loved them, and that they hadn’t heard us calling, still do not hear us, up here in the tree house, with out thinning hair and soft bellies, calling them out of those rooms where they went to be alone for all time, alone in suicide, which is deeper than death, and where we will never find the pieces to put them back together.
Okay, I’ll admit, I’m a bit biased with this because I love the film version so much (Sofia Coppola!!!). But really, if you loved the film first like I did, then read the book. If you love the book first then watch the film also. They’re both wonderfully beautiful in different ways.
