We couldn't imagine the emptiness of a creature who put a razor to her wrists and opened her veins, the emptiness and the calm.
It was the combination of many factors... With most people, suicide is like Russian roulette. Only one chamber has a bullet. With the Lisbon girls, the gun was loaded. A bullet for family abuse. A bullet for genetic predisposition. A bullet for historical malaise. A bullet for inevitable momentum. The other two bullets are impossible to name, but that doesn't mean the chambers were empty.
Interpretation
What this quote means
This quote explores the complex interplay of various factors that lead individuals to consider suicide, likening the decision to a game of chance.
Jeffrey Eugenides reflects on the multifaceted reasons behind suicide, emphasizing that it is often the result of a combination of personal, familial, and societal factors. He uses the metaphor of Russian roulette to illustrate that while most people face a gamble with a low likelihood of suicide, for some, the gun is fully loaded, indicating that they face overwhelming challenges including family abuse, genetic factors, and historical context that lead them to fatal decisions. The mention of unnamed bullets signifies the unquantifiable nature of emotional pain and societal pressures that contribute to these dire outcomes.
Themes
In practice
Example use cases
This quote could be used in a mental health awareness campaign to highlight the complexities surrounding suicide.
More from Jeffrey Eugenides
All quotes →Depression is like a bruise that never goes away. A bruise in your mind. You just got to be careful not to touch it where it hurts. It's always there, though.
She lost much of her appetite. At night, an invisible hand kept shaking her awake every few hours. Grief was physiological, a disturbance of the blood. Sometimes a whole minute would pass in nameless dread - the bedside clock ticking, the blue moonlight coating the window like glue - before she`d remember the brutal fact that had caused it.
It was one of those humid days when the atmosphere gets confused. Sitting on the porch, you could feel it: the air wishing it was water.
Jerome was sliding and climbing on top of me and it felt like it had the night before, like a crushing weight. So do boys and men announce their intentions. They cover you like a sarcophagus lid. And call it love.
All sixteen mentioned her jutting ribs, the insubstantiality of her thighs, and one, who went up to the roof with Lux during a warm winter rain, told us how the basins of her collarbones collected water.
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