Review of Sick Girl by Amy Silverstein
[This is a review I wrote for Amy Silverstein's Sick Girl on Amazon. The book disturbed me.]
I don't know where to begin with this book. On the plus side, it was very difficult to put down. I read it in no time at all. It was compelling and suspenseful. I liked learning about heart illnesses, the treatment available for them, and the complications of these treatments.
But I found myself absolutely disgusted with the author. Because she had a heart transplant, it took me awhile to even register my antipathy towards Amy. I was worried that I wasn't being fair to her and that I just didn't understand major illnesses. At some point, though, I've got to call a spade a spade. There is absolutely no excuse for the behavior she exhibited throughout her illness. And there's no excuse for the unbelievable whining she does throughout this book.
If Amy's account is to be believed, she was incredibly unfair to her doctors. She blamed them for things they couldn't control. In some cases, she hated them just for doing their job. A choice sample: "But I can tell you, when you try to push this anger thing on me it just makes you look like a big idiot--standing there in your ivory tower, telling me what I feel. Don't kid yourself" (pg. 108). Here, Amy is chewing out an apparently well-meaning psychiatrist who's been trying to help her cope. She makes fun of his appearance, too. Some people might admire this "spunkiness" and "spirit." I don't--I think it's childish. Wallowing in her self-pity, Amy just refuses to put herself in other people's shoes. She even has trouble empathizing with her husband, Scott. It's all about her and her illness. If you're thinking about buying this book, you'd better prepare yourself for a ton of this.
When Amy describes one of her first doctor's visits at the the beginning of the book, she recognizes that she's being immature. "My accumulated years began to fall away from me one by one until I landed in the safe haven of a ten-year-old girl--and a bratty one at that" (pgs. 28-29). What she doesn't seem to realize is that she remains a brat for the rest of the book. You can even tell in the language she uses to describe herself. Yes, yes, we know it's unfair that you got sick at twenty-four. The whining gets old after awhile. I kept hoping she would toughen up, but she never did.
Something for the theologically minded: Amy describes one of her near-death experiences in a way that's supposed to disprove the whole idea of heaven. She says there's no light at the end of the tunnel. Yet she gets very preachy about the "true love" between her and her husband. It's too syrupy-sweet in the midst of her postmodern rantings. In short, she thinks she has the authority to deny God while affirming true love. She tries to shove her views onto the reader. I did not appreciate it. Just because she has a heart transplant, she's supposed to be our greatest expert on the universe?
In short, the front cover is a very good indicator of this book's content. The cover photo seems to be saying, "Look. I've been through a heart transplant. That makes me better than everyone else. Don't you feel sorry for me? And don't you dare judge me. You don't know how it feels to have a scar like this." If you don't enjoy that perspective, steer clear. I like getting angry when I read, but not everyone does. I would NOT recommend this book to anybody facing a health crisis. Amy is suicidal and thinks killing herself is a viable option.
I don't know where to begin with this book. On the plus side, it was very difficult to put down. I read it in no time at all. It was compelling and suspenseful. I liked learning about heart illnesses, the treatment available for them, and the complications of these treatments.
But I found myself absolutely disgusted with the author. Because she had a heart transplant, it took me awhile to even register my antipathy towards Amy. I was worried that I wasn't being fair to her and that I just didn't understand major illnesses. At some point, though, I've got to call a spade a spade. There is absolutely no excuse for the behavior she exhibited throughout her illness. And there's no excuse for the unbelievable whining she does throughout this book.
If Amy's account is to be believed, she was incredibly unfair to her doctors. She blamed them for things they couldn't control. In some cases, she hated them just for doing their job. A choice sample: "But I can tell you, when you try to push this anger thing on me it just makes you look like a big idiot--standing there in your ivory tower, telling me what I feel. Don't kid yourself" (pg. 108). Here, Amy is chewing out an apparently well-meaning psychiatrist who's been trying to help her cope. She makes fun of his appearance, too. Some people might admire this "spunkiness" and "spirit." I don't--I think it's childish. Wallowing in her self-pity, Amy just refuses to put herself in other people's shoes. She even has trouble empathizing with her husband, Scott. It's all about her and her illness. If you're thinking about buying this book, you'd better prepare yourself for a ton of this.
When Amy describes one of her first doctor's visits at the the beginning of the book, she recognizes that she's being immature. "My accumulated years began to fall away from me one by one until I landed in the safe haven of a ten-year-old girl--and a bratty one at that" (pgs. 28-29). What she doesn't seem to realize is that she remains a brat for the rest of the book. You can even tell in the language she uses to describe herself. Yes, yes, we know it's unfair that you got sick at twenty-four. The whining gets old after awhile. I kept hoping she would toughen up, but she never did.
Something for the theologically minded: Amy describes one of her near-death experiences in a way that's supposed to disprove the whole idea of heaven. She says there's no light at the end of the tunnel. Yet she gets very preachy about the "true love" between her and her husband. It's too syrupy-sweet in the midst of her postmodern rantings. In short, she thinks she has the authority to deny God while affirming true love. She tries to shove her views onto the reader. I did not appreciate it. Just because she has a heart transplant, she's supposed to be our greatest expert on the universe?
In short, the front cover is a very good indicator of this book's content. The cover photo seems to be saying, "Look. I've been through a heart transplant. That makes me better than everyone else. Don't you feel sorry for me? And don't you dare judge me. You don't know how it feels to have a scar like this." If you don't enjoy that perspective, steer clear. I like getting angry when I read, but not everyone does. I would NOT recommend this book to anybody facing a health crisis. Amy is suicidal and thinks killing herself is a viable option.