What's the one thing that humans seem to consistently strive for? We want to look fitter, thinner, more beautiful, but it really all culminates in our society's constant obsession with youth. If you look younger, you are younger—in a way, you're cheating death. And that's the ultimate goal, isn't it. To vanquish that ultimate foe and live forever.
Well, be careful what you wish for.
In this futuristic novel, the idea of extended life takes on a dystopian edge. Some people have the genes to live many years longer than we ever thought imaginable, and maybe someday, even beat that dark, inevitable end. In this world, it might be coming, if only you are first gifted the right genes, and second, you treat them right, following a strict regimen of eating, working out, and doctor's appointments. People are also becoming a bit bionic, enhanced by technological parts that work better than the human body and extend life.
But what if you don't want to follow their rules? What if you don't want to live forever? To some, life is meaningless if you can't really live it how you want to, and death is a choice they are willing to to not only take over some sanitized, robotized version of living but use as a political statement.
I really loved this book. It has a loud message and a quiet strength. The narrators of the book are two strong women (which I already love), each on their own journey toward understanding what life means, how they want to live it, and who they want to spend it with.
This book is asking us to take a hard look in the mirror and think about what it is that is important to us. What do we want our children to revere? The suspension of youthful looks and the denial of our impending future as dust? It isn't mean to sound morbid; it is just the truth. What do we want to leave behind as our legacy? What do we want to learn? What can we change about our world? And how deeply can we love?
I did wish that the book had delved more deeply into some of the topics that it uncovered, including the bionic people and all the ramifications around their parts that keep working even when they stop (the part with Anja's mother is some of the strongest writing in the book). Though the suicides are obviously inflammatory (pun not intended) and riveting to read, I wished the characters engaged with them more. What were they thinking, feeling? The Club itself felt underrepresented for being the titular element. I would have also liked a little more world-building too, to see the contrast between the Lifers and the other people more, to get into their lives rather than just the monochrome perspective of our character's privileged viewpoint. I felt a little bit at a remove, as though I couldn't quite craft a whole picture of the world.
These are things that could have been expanded on or improved, but they don't detract from the overall beauty of the book. Suicide Club is a thoughtful and unique debut novel with a lot of heart. I can't wait to see what Heng does next.
My thanks to Henry Holt for sending me a copy of this book to read and review.
Associate editor, amateur photdographer, bibliophile, and occasional sleuth.