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The Bridge
Henry meets Christa on the west tower of the Brooklyn Bridge, just as they're both about to jump off and kill themselves. Despite his paralyzing depression--and her panic over a second bout of cancer--they can't go through with their plans knowing that the other is going to die. So they make a pact--they'll stay alive for 24 hours, and try to convince each other to live.
From the Staten Island Ferry to Chinatown to the Museum of Modern Art--Henry and Christa embark on a New York City odyssey that exposes the darkest moments of their lives. Is it too late for them? Or will love give them the courage to face the terrifying possibility of hope?
From the Staten Island Ferry to Chinatown to the Museum of Modern Art--Henry and Christa embark on a New York City odyssey that exposes the darkest moments of their lives. Is it too late for them? Or will love give them the courage to face the terrifying possibility of hope?
79 pages, Kindle Edition
First published September 16, 2013
1 person is currently reading
300 people want to read
About the author
Rebecca Rogers Maher
11 books58 followersRebecca Rogers Maher writes gritty, realistic stories that push the boundaries of contemporary romance. Publishers Weekly describes her writing as “gripping and touching,” Library Journal calls it “gut-wrenching,” and USA TODAY declares it “very well-done romance…so satisfying.”
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June 7, 2020I realised my review of this book had been lost to the annals (heh annals) of the internet but I managed to re-extract it. Which is good because my feelings for this particular romance have only deepened--grown somehow more tender and more forgiving--over time. I think it might be one of my dearest favourites.
I’ve been reading romance long enough that I’ve developed tastes. I like rich, sprawling, wickedly subversive historicals, liminal, dark-ish contemporaries that don’t make promises about forever, and m/m that isn’t full of fisting, rape and enemas. Therefore Rebecca Rogers Maher’s The Bridge is pretty much my perfect romance. It takes place in New York over a 24 hour period. A depressive and a cancer patient meet on by chance Brooklyn Bridge, having independently decided to kill themselves. The narrative revolves around their attempts to convince one another that they have something worth living for.
That’s, uh, a pretty edgy premise. And, honestly, while it’s not a gratuitously bleak read, it’s certainly a difficult one. It’s not a happenings book – the characters walk, they talk, they eat fudge – but the emotional tension is nearly unbearable. The juxtaposition of their self-imposed time limit (twenty four hours to decide to stay alive) and the reality of their suffering creates this impossible knife-edge of hope and despair: you understand them, you grieve for their pain, and you desperately, desperately want them find some kind of peace that isn’t death.
There’s such a lot about this book that speaks to me and intrigues me, which is pretty extraordinary considering it weighs in at under a hundred pages. In many ways it’s a very straightforward romance set up -- Henry is rich, gorgeous and successful, Christa is feisty and blunt and from the wrong side of the tracks – except he’s depressed and she has breast cancer and they both want to die. While they have lived entirely different lives (hers of fierce survival, his of privileged continuance), this isn’t really an opposite-attracts scenario. I feel a bit of a doofus pointing at the title of the book going, oh but it’s called The Bridge, d’you see, d’you see but, significantly, this is a story about connections. What brings Henry and Christa together, the thing they instinctively understand about each other, is suffering. As the book begins they’re convinced pain is what separates them from other people. By the end it is what binds them together, and to the world. I guess that doesn’t sound particularly romantic, but - to be honest - this isn’t really a romantic book. It’s too raw, too desperate, in places too ugly. But what it is, is powerful and true. A story about the smallness and the hugeness of things, and the endless human capacity for compassion and hope even when it feels like everything is over.
The Bridge is also a love story to New York itself. It’s always something I associate (perhaps unfairly) with queerness – a preoccupation with place, an orientating of oneself by and through the landscape – but it’s so effective here, as they move from literal and emotional alienation (the top of Brooklyn Bridge in the middle of the night) through their memories and the experiences they share, until finally they take a hotel room together just like another pair of lovers might. As they wander the city, life rushes on around them, chaotic and lovely and strange, from the homeless man who sings on the Subway to the families they see in the park.
And they talk and share and cry and shout at each other and eventually have sex, all with the terrible honesty of people of people who believe they have nothing to lose. Once again, I found the dynamic between the two protagonists intriguing, especially all the ways it plays into and pulls against romantic expectations. While Christa, being poor and friendless, is very much Cinderella to Henry’s Prince in reality she’s the most active force in the novel. Henry initially proposes that they spend the next twenty four hours together because he wants to Save Her TM, but with typical sharpness Christa quickly breaks it down and turns it round:
I think this was the moment (23% in) when I knew Christa was going to be okay. There’s so much life in her, a capacity to see beyond herself and engage the world that Depression that stripped from Henry. Similarly, her choices for their day are sensation-based and physical (they travel by ferry, they eat dumplings, they go to a bit of a museum that is not really part of the museum itself) whereas Henry’s are contemplative and distancing. Henry shows her something interior and personal to him (Tchelitchew’s Hide and Seek at MOMA) and then a piece of his past happiness (the taste of hot fudge, the memory of someone who loved him). Christa, however, is still very much in the present: she tries to show him something he’s never seen, takes him to eat food that makes them both feel alive, and to a space that’s a space she’s defined for herself. She’s got a strength and a vigour to her, even in fear and vulnerability.
Henry, though, I found less successful – or perhaps I mean almost too successful. I’m absolutely not the International Depression Evaluation Board, but his experiences and his responses felt authentic to me (although, of course, mental health is very subjective and therefore your mileage may vary). And, again, I thought his Depression-imposed passivity rendered him an interesting contrast to Christa and, for that matter, to most romance heroes. He has a lot of worldly power (he’s rich, performs adequately at a high-powered job) but he’s personally powerless: forcing himself to perform his own life, unable to control either his body or his mind. He’s also the only romance hero I’ve ever encountered to have issues with his erection. I kind of appreciated the boldness of that, since penises in Romancelandia basically carry on like pointer dogs, always alert, never flagging, occasionally showing up inconveniently when you think you’ve sent them to their basket.
But the problem for me with Henry is that his Depression – the leaden blanket as he describes it – is so diligently portrayed in its reality and its relentless cruelty that the ending almost came out of nowhere.
From here on out, we’re going to get super-spoilery, and I emphasise my reactions are simply my reactions. But nothing in the preceding narrative had prepared me for what actually happens, and it was so outside my expectations for this quiet book about people and compromise and hope that I felt it was a dramatic non-answer to something the book seemed to have convinced itself was insoluble: how and why a depressive might not decide to kill himself.
Basically what happens is this. Christa realises that, over the course of the day, she has been gradually choosing life. But she also recognises that it’s different for Henry, and whereas her decision was impulsive– born of a temporarily overwhelming combination of despair and fear and loneliness – his has been of long-standing, a consequence of years of depression eroding is will, his energy, his sense of self. She can’t bear to say goodbye, knowing he will likely leave her to kill himself, so she writes him a letter and goes. Later that morning, in a semi-coincidence that feels appropriate rather than cheesy or implausible, they encounter each other again, start to have a conversation and then ...
... a shitting bomb goes off.
Like, they’re fine. Other people die in order to teach us about the value of life. But our protagonists end up lightly wounded in hospital, where Henry is conveniently shocked into deciding to stay alive:
And I know reader expectations are difficult to manage at the best of times, and I take full responsibility for mine but I couldn’t help feeling slightly ... well ... betrayed by what struck me a sudden veer into unsubtle tragedy. I suppose there’s an extent to which the bomb business feeds into the broader themes of the novel: this wounded city for its wounded protagonists, and the vast incomprehensibility of so many human lives, I can sort of see how it might fit. But it just doesn’t feel good to me.
I’m always made slightly uncomfortable by fictional disasters that exist solely to teach characters something about themselves, and I’m even more troubled by some of Henry’s post-bomb musings:
I’m sorry, but no. Being so depressed you want to die is not the same as blowing a bunch of people up. And choosing to end your own suffering – whether you believe it’s possible to make such a decision rationally (which, incidentally , I do) is not the same as rating your life cheap.
What really bugs me, though, is that Henry’s final conclusion is this:
I think this is painfully lovely, ends the book perfectly, and is a perfectly legitimate, plausible and acceptable decision for a depressive to make. I genuinely don’t understand why it was necessary to blow a chunk out of New York, a boy, and a perfectly innocent fictional family to get here.
Nevertheless. The Bridge is still a bold, beautiful and extraordinary book. You should read it like right heck now.
I’ve been reading romance long enough that I’ve developed tastes. I like rich, sprawling, wickedly subversive historicals, liminal, dark-ish contemporaries that don’t make promises about forever, and m/m that isn’t full of fisting, rape and enemas. Therefore Rebecca Rogers Maher’s The Bridge is pretty much my perfect romance. It takes place in New York over a 24 hour period. A depressive and a cancer patient meet on by chance Brooklyn Bridge, having independently decided to kill themselves. The narrative revolves around their attempts to convince one another that they have something worth living for.
That’s, uh, a pretty edgy premise. And, honestly, while it’s not a gratuitously bleak read, it’s certainly a difficult one. It’s not a happenings book – the characters walk, they talk, they eat fudge – but the emotional tension is nearly unbearable. The juxtaposition of their self-imposed time limit (twenty four hours to decide to stay alive) and the reality of their suffering creates this impossible knife-edge of hope and despair: you understand them, you grieve for their pain, and you desperately, desperately want them find some kind of peace that isn’t death.
There’s such a lot about this book that speaks to me and intrigues me, which is pretty extraordinary considering it weighs in at under a hundred pages. In many ways it’s a very straightforward romance set up -- Henry is rich, gorgeous and successful, Christa is feisty and blunt and from the wrong side of the tracks – except he’s depressed and she has breast cancer and they both want to die. While they have lived entirely different lives (hers of fierce survival, his of privileged continuance), this isn’t really an opposite-attracts scenario. I feel a bit of a doofus pointing at the title of the book going, oh but it’s called The Bridge, d’you see, d’you see but, significantly, this is a story about connections. What brings Henry and Christa together, the thing they instinctively understand about each other, is suffering. As the book begins they’re convinced pain is what separates them from other people. By the end it is what binds them together, and to the world. I guess that doesn’t sound particularly romantic, but - to be honest - this isn’t really a romantic book. It’s too raw, too desperate, in places too ugly. But what it is, is powerful and true. A story about the smallness and the hugeness of things, and the endless human capacity for compassion and hope even when it feels like everything is over.
The Bridge is also a love story to New York itself. It’s always something I associate (perhaps unfairly) with queerness – a preoccupation with place, an orientating of oneself by and through the landscape – but it’s so effective here, as they move from literal and emotional alienation (the top of Brooklyn Bridge in the middle of the night) through their memories and the experiences they share, until finally they take a hotel room together just like another pair of lovers might. As they wander the city, life rushes on around them, chaotic and lovely and strange, from the homeless man who sings on the Subway to the families they see in the park.
And they talk and share and cry and shout at each other and eventually have sex, all with the terrible honesty of people of people who believe they have nothing to lose. Once again, I found the dynamic between the two protagonists intriguing, especially all the ways it plays into and pulls against romantic expectations. While Christa, being poor and friendless, is very much Cinderella to Henry’s Prince in reality she’s the most active force in the novel. Henry initially proposes that they spend the next twenty four hours together because he wants to Save Her TM, but with typical sharpness Christa quickly breaks it down and turns it round:
I sit back in my seat and watch him. He’s flailing, that’s obvious. Trying to be a decent guy and save Cancer Lady and all that. It’s silly, but it’s also kind. Even in my state I can see that. Maybe this effort at heroism will convince him he’s got something to give? I could offer him that, I suppose. One day to be a good man and try to rescue somebody. It’s an angle I hadn’t thought of, but it could work. He does seem like the sensitive type. Maybe he’s always dreamed of being some damsel’s knight in shining armor
I think this was the moment (23% in) when I knew Christa was going to be okay. There’s so much life in her, a capacity to see beyond herself and engage the world that Depression that stripped from Henry. Similarly, her choices for their day are sensation-based and physical (they travel by ferry, they eat dumplings, they go to a bit of a museum that is not really part of the museum itself) whereas Henry’s are contemplative and distancing. Henry shows her something interior and personal to him (Tchelitchew’s Hide and Seek at MOMA) and then a piece of his past happiness (the taste of hot fudge, the memory of someone who loved him). Christa, however, is still very much in the present: she tries to show him something he’s never seen, takes him to eat food that makes them both feel alive, and to a space that’s a space she’s defined for herself. She’s got a strength and a vigour to her, even in fear and vulnerability.
Henry, though, I found less successful – or perhaps I mean almost too successful. I’m absolutely not the International Depression Evaluation Board, but his experiences and his responses felt authentic to me (although, of course, mental health is very subjective and therefore your mileage may vary). And, again, I thought his Depression-imposed passivity rendered him an interesting contrast to Christa and, for that matter, to most romance heroes. He has a lot of worldly power (he’s rich, performs adequately at a high-powered job) but he’s personally powerless: forcing himself to perform his own life, unable to control either his body or his mind. He’s also the only romance hero I’ve ever encountered to have issues with his erection. I kind of appreciated the boldness of that, since penises in Romancelandia basically carry on like pointer dogs, always alert, never flagging, occasionally showing up inconveniently when you think you’ve sent them to their basket.
But the problem for me with Henry is that his Depression – the leaden blanket as he describes it – is so diligently portrayed in its reality and its relentless cruelty that the ending almost came out of nowhere.
From here on out, we’re going to get super-spoilery, and I emphasise my reactions are simply my reactions. But nothing in the preceding narrative had prepared me for what actually happens, and it was so outside my expectations for this quiet book about people and compromise and hope that I felt it was a dramatic non-answer to something the book seemed to have convinced itself was insoluble: how and why a depressive might not decide to kill himself.
Basically what happens is this. Christa realises that, over the course of the day, she has been gradually choosing life. But she also recognises that it’s different for Henry, and whereas her decision was impulsive– born of a temporarily overwhelming combination of despair and fear and loneliness – his has been of long-standing, a consequence of years of depression eroding is will, his energy, his sense of self. She can’t bear to say goodbye, knowing he will likely leave her to kill himself, so she writes him a letter and goes. Later that morning, in a semi-coincidence that feels appropriate rather than cheesy or implausible, they encounter each other again, start to have a conversation and then ...
... a shitting bomb goes off.
Like, they’re fine. Other people die in order to teach us about the value of life. But our protagonists end up lightly wounded in hospital, where Henry is conveniently shocked into deciding to stay alive:
But there’s a buzzing at the edge of my vision now, a steady shimmering vibration. If I sink too deep I won’t see it anymore, I won’t feel it. I won’t know it’s there, and I want to know it’s there. I want to. I don’t want to go like this.
I don’t want it to end like this.
And I know reader expectations are difficult to manage at the best of times, and I take full responsibility for mine but I couldn’t help feeling slightly ... well ... betrayed by what struck me a sudden veer into unsubtle tragedy. I suppose there’s an extent to which the bomb business feeds into the broader themes of the novel: this wounded city for its wounded protagonists, and the vast incomprehensibility of so many human lives, I can sort of see how it might fit. But it just doesn’t feel good to me.
I’m always made slightly uncomfortable by fictional disasters that exist solely to teach characters something about themselves, and I’m even more troubled by some of Henry’s post-bomb musings:
I think of the boy’s shoe, lying bloody on the pavement. What made him think his life was so fucking cheap? That ours were?
And yet he only tried to do to me what I had every intention of doing to myself. It’s barbaric that I get to live, when those other people died. Those innocent people, who will never get a chance to do what they intended with their lives.
I’m sorry, but no. Being so depressed you want to die is not the same as blowing a bunch of people up. And choosing to end your own suffering – whether you believe it’s possible to make such a decision rationally (which, incidentally , I do) is not the same as rating your life cheap.
What really bugs me, though, is that Henry’s final conclusion is this:
There is a bridge between one chasm of despair and another, and I can cross it if I choose to. It’s full of beauty that hurts just as deeply as pain. It’s full of the force and faultiness of my own heart. It’s full of loss.
It’s full of love. It’s full of her. It’s full of hope, which is the cruelest thing of all.
I think this is painfully lovely, ends the book perfectly, and is a perfectly legitimate, plausible and acceptable decision for a depressive to make. I genuinely don’t understand why it was necessary to blow a chunk out of New York, a boy, and a perfectly innocent fictional family to get here.
Nevertheless. The Bridge is still a bold, beautiful and extraordinary book. You should read it like right heck now.
September 28, 2013
I have been searching for a swoon worthy romance to read for MONTHS. One that would make my heart beat faster and make me hold my breath in anticipation. Who would have thought that I would find it in a story about two desperately sad and lonely people about to commit suicide?
For a novella that is just under 100 pages, The Bridge has a depth of emotion and development that some full length novels never attain.
Henry and Christa both decide that life just isn't worth living anymore and stumble upon each other on the Brooklyn Bridge the morning they decide to jump. It's a complication neither anticipated and for some reason they can't seem to let the other go through with the act even though they just met.
They agree to give each other 24 hours, exploring New York City, to see if they can convince the other to change their mind.
What was interesting to me is that both Henry and Christa understand the bone deep despair that would drive a person to want to kill themselves. Henry suffers from depression & Christa has a recurring case of breast cancer, but they aren't very understanding of each others reasons.
Christa sees a good looking, wealthy man, with access to help and a future of endless possibilities while Henry sees Christa as a vibrant woman who has the strength to overcome any obstacle in her path.
As they spend the day doing mundane things like eating ice cream, walking around Chinatown and the museum for the last time (they both still plan to kill themselves the next day) they tear down the walls that have held in years of emotions. But letting in all those feelings doesn't necessarily make life easier. With the new emotions comes an even bigger chance of being hurt by a world that has already dealt them blow after blow. The decision to choose life is even more frightening than choosing death to them.
Maher does an incredible job addressing both cancer and depression in an honest way. Again - I'm stunned at what she was able to convey in 79 pages.
Final thoughts: The Bridge is a breathtaking story that's a love letter to NYC, a heartbreaking romance and journey of self discovery and bravery. There are no easy answers here and you'll be biting your nails until the very end. I actually slowed my reading down so it would last longer. Do I wish it was longer? As with almost all novellas - yes but this was damn near perfection for me and will make it as one of my top reads for 2013.
For a novella that is just under 100 pages, The Bridge has a depth of emotion and development that some full length novels never attain.
Henry and Christa both decide that life just isn't worth living anymore and stumble upon each other on the Brooklyn Bridge the morning they decide to jump. It's a complication neither anticipated and for some reason they can't seem to let the other go through with the act even though they just met.
They agree to give each other 24 hours, exploring New York City, to see if they can convince the other to change their mind.
What was interesting to me is that both Henry and Christa understand the bone deep despair that would drive a person to want to kill themselves. Henry suffers from depression & Christa has a recurring case of breast cancer, but they aren't very understanding of each others reasons.
Christa sees a good looking, wealthy man, with access to help and a future of endless possibilities while Henry sees Christa as a vibrant woman who has the strength to overcome any obstacle in her path.
As they spend the day doing mundane things like eating ice cream, walking around Chinatown and the museum for the last time (they both still plan to kill themselves the next day) they tear down the walls that have held in years of emotions. But letting in all those feelings doesn't necessarily make life easier. With the new emotions comes an even bigger chance of being hurt by a world that has already dealt them blow after blow. The decision to choose life is even more frightening than choosing death to them.
Maher does an incredible job addressing both cancer and depression in an honest way. Again - I'm stunned at what she was able to convey in 79 pages.
Final thoughts: The Bridge is a breathtaking story that's a love letter to NYC, a heartbreaking romance and journey of self discovery and bravery. There are no easy answers here and you'll be biting your nails until the very end. I actually slowed my reading down so it would last longer. Do I wish it was longer? As with almost all novellas - yes but this was damn near perfection for me and will make it as one of my top reads for 2013.
October 22, 2014
Henry and Christa, two people on the verge of suicide who happen to meet at the bridge where they plan to jump off. Depression. Cancer. Love story? Hope?
This book touched me deeply, and I would have given it 5 stars if it wasn't for the ending, that extra ~thing~ at the end messed it up a little.
Still, an overwhelming story!
This book touched me deeply, and I would have given it 5 stars if it wasn't for the ending, that extra ~thing~ at the end messed it up a little.
Still, an overwhelming story!
January 1, 2026
⭐️3
Ngl when i downloaded this book I thought it was longer than it turned out to be so I was disappointed but that’s my own fault, not the author’s. I think this book was quite thought-provoking and left me wondering quite a bit, but all i can say is that i’m so glad it ended the way it did. also, i’m so proud that i picked up on the clue that led to the plot twist at the end.
This was a quote that I read and it really made me feel so I thought i’d share.
“We all avert our eyes to every tragedy. Out of politeness? That’s one way of looking at it. Another is that we look away because we’re cowards.”
~ I just think this is unfortunately so true and I wish it wasn’t. I wish that as a society we can all come together and agree to not ignore tragedies and instead help as much as we can. Basically, all I wish for in the world is for people to care and be kind to everyone.
Ngl when i downloaded this book I thought it was longer than it turned out to be so I was disappointed but that’s my own fault, not the author’s. I think this book was quite thought-provoking and left me wondering quite a bit, but all i can say is that i’m so glad it ended the way it did. also, i’m so proud that i picked up on the clue that led to the plot twist at the end.
This was a quote that I read and it really made me feel so I thought i’d share.
“We all avert our eyes to every tragedy. Out of politeness? That’s one way of looking at it. Another is that we look away because we’re cowards.”
~ I just think this is unfortunately so true and I wish it wasn’t. I wish that as a society we can all come together and agree to not ignore tragedies and instead help as much as we can. Basically, all I wish for in the world is for people to care and be kind to everyone.
September 11, 2013
There's meet cute, and then there's meet awful. Climbing the tower of the Brooklyn Bridge in order to commit suicide, Henry, who has been plagued by an "ill-wired brain" for most of his life, discovers he's not the only one intending to end his life. Christa, already having lost one breast to cancer, is determined not to suffer through the pain of another bout when she discovers another "IED" has invaded her remaining breast. Christa, a waitress, recognizes that the handsome, entitled man pulling her back from the edge would never have given her the time of day in other circumstances ("I guess attempted suicide is a great leveler of social boundaries"), yet can't resist hopping on the rescue horse yet again, even though all of her previous attempts to help people she cares for have been complete disasters. Each determined to save the other, but still committed to their own ends, the two agree to spend one day together, hoping that the other will find helping someone else, playing the hero if only for a day, will convince the other that he or she has something worth living for.
It's a bit of a shame that I read Maher's novella right after I finished Glitterland. Both delve into the challenges of romance for those dealing with depression, but since GLITTERLAND does it at novel-length, it has more room to depict the details of living with mental illness, making Maher's treatment feel underdeveloped. Both Henry and Christa are well-drawn, and I found their gradual coming together persuasive, and enjoyed their day wandering NYC (shades of Where She Went). The climax of the book, though, feels rather contrived and abrupt, not quite earned.
It's a bit of a shame that I read Maher's novella right after I finished Glitterland. Both delve into the challenges of romance for those dealing with depression, but since GLITTERLAND does it at novel-length, it has more room to depict the details of living with mental illness, making Maher's treatment feel underdeveloped. Both Henry and Christa are well-drawn, and I found their gradual coming together persuasive, and enjoyed their day wandering NYC (shades of Where She Went). The climax of the book, though, feels rather contrived and abrupt, not quite earned.
September 18, 2013
Reviewed by Kim
for Read Your Writes Book Reviews
Rebecca is like no author I've ever read. Her stories are dark and thought provoking. At times emotional, requiring you to look at yourself and your life. Her female characters are strong, brash, take no prisoners, tell it like it is kind of ladies. They have mouths that would make sailors blush.
THE BRIDGE is a dark story about two people finding each other amongst the billions and billions of people in the world, on their worst imaginable day. The day they each plan to commit suicide.
Henry is thirty-years-old and by outward appearances has it all. He's model gorgeous and wears expensive clothes. Christa is a woman in her mid-thirties, who also by outward appearances has everything she needs. But these two are hiding something from the world. Henry is clinically depressed and has been for years. Christa is a breast cancer survivor and has just discovered a new lump. For these two, the only way they see out of the pain they're in is to kill themselves.
THE BRIDGE is told from the viewpoints of Henry and Christa over a 24 hour period. The story starts out at 4am on a cool New York City Saturday morning. With the Brooklyn Bridge as the location that will change the lives of Henry and Christa forever. At 4:40 am, Henry finally climbs his way to the Brooklyn Bridge Tower, only to see a woman sitting on the edge. Henry's first reaction is that he can't let this woman jump off the bridge. Christa has the same reaction to Henry. The two start talking and come to an agreement. They will spend the day with each other, taking in the city, trying to convince the other that their life is worth living. Come Sunday morning, they will each go their separate ways, hoping they succeed in saving the other's life. Each knows that their mind is made up. Their goal now on this Saturday isn't to end their life, but try to save the life of a stranger they believe has so much to offer.
This is the story of two people letting down their emotional walls for a complete stranger. Unknowingly, allowing themselves to be free for just one day in their lives. Through their own internal battles and battles with each other they find the one person they can be real with and don't even realize it. Life can end in an instant so the question becomes, "Do I want to stay in this world and fight? Or do I still want to end my existence?".
This is truly one of my FAVORITE Rebecca Rogers Maher books.
Rating: 4.5
Source: Author
for Read Your Writes Book Reviews
Rebecca is like no author I've ever read. Her stories are dark and thought provoking. At times emotional, requiring you to look at yourself and your life. Her female characters are strong, brash, take no prisoners, tell it like it is kind of ladies. They have mouths that would make sailors blush.
THE BRIDGE is a dark story about two people finding each other amongst the billions and billions of people in the world, on their worst imaginable day. The day they each plan to commit suicide.
Henry is thirty-years-old and by outward appearances has it all. He's model gorgeous and wears expensive clothes. Christa is a woman in her mid-thirties, who also by outward appearances has everything she needs. But these two are hiding something from the world. Henry is clinically depressed and has been for years. Christa is a breast cancer survivor and has just discovered a new lump. For these two, the only way they see out of the pain they're in is to kill themselves.
THE BRIDGE is told from the viewpoints of Henry and Christa over a 24 hour period. The story starts out at 4am on a cool New York City Saturday morning. With the Brooklyn Bridge as the location that will change the lives of Henry and Christa forever. At 4:40 am, Henry finally climbs his way to the Brooklyn Bridge Tower, only to see a woman sitting on the edge. Henry's first reaction is that he can't let this woman jump off the bridge. Christa has the same reaction to Henry. The two start talking and come to an agreement. They will spend the day with each other, taking in the city, trying to convince the other that their life is worth living. Come Sunday morning, they will each go their separate ways, hoping they succeed in saving the other's life. Each knows that their mind is made up. Their goal now on this Saturday isn't to end their life, but try to save the life of a stranger they believe has so much to offer.
This is the story of two people letting down their emotional walls for a complete stranger. Unknowingly, allowing themselves to be free for just one day in their lives. Through their own internal battles and battles with each other they find the one person they can be real with and don't even realize it. Life can end in an instant so the question becomes, "Do I want to stay in this world and fight? Or do I still want to end my existence?".
This is truly one of my FAVORITE Rebecca Rogers Maher books.
Rating: 4.5
Source: Author
September 22, 2015
Short story about Henry and Christa, two people on the verge of ending their lives.....desperation and depression sinking into them and leaving them hopeless and resigned to the fact that there is nothing left worth living for.
Things happen for a reason....and when these two meet at the top of the Brooklyn Bridge, I believe it was pure fate. They were put there for a reason.....not only to safe each other....but to save themselves.
Good story, but would have liked more to see what happens with their lives. Although, I really did love the last few lines of this book.....very well written. 3.5*
Things happen for a reason....and when these two meet at the top of the Brooklyn Bridge, I believe it was pure fate. They were put there for a reason.....not only to safe each other....but to save themselves.
Good story, but would have liked more to see what happens with their lives. Although, I really did love the last few lines of this book.....very well written. 3.5*
September 17, 2013
This is a very powerful novella about two strangers who meet in the middle of the night on the Brooklyn Bridget, both about to commit suicide. Yet they can't let the other jump. So they decide to give each other 24 hours. They both set out to convince the other not to do it - and these 24 hours are so well written by the author. I'm so impressed.
Full review coming.
Full review coming.
March 2, 2017
Just loved this! It had the perfect amount of everything. The romance was sweet and surprisingly hot and it also got into some deep stuff (seeing as the book was about 2 people about to commit suicide, this was expected). Definitely recommend for a short afternoon read that will stay with you for a while.
February 16, 2014
What. The suicide, the cancer, but the bit at the end? I mean good Chekhov's gun, but wow? Little much.
January 14, 2018
This is a similar concept to a book I love, A Long Way Down by Nick Hornby, but in this case, there are only two suicidal people, and the tone is less funny and more dark and sincere. It easily could have become too much of either of those things, but it ends up striking a nice balance, finding hope in the characters' connection without denying the serious reality of their lives.
October 18, 2017
A promising premise. That is not new to me, but I was happy with how I felt while reading the book. Even though the ending is predictable, I was a bit intrigued how the author was going to achieve that.
Good points: revealing the background stories slowly throughout the story, slow buildup of romance. The erotic scenes were both sensual and touch and go fashion, not going into immense details. The climax was unpredictable for me, although there was a small hint somewhere earlier.
The author could've done a better job of exploring the 'why' part (why the charterers are doing what they are doing?) rather than have the characters repeatedly say the same thing over and over to make it seem okay. There was a tiny bit of stereotyping (rich and handsome hero) which the story would've fared the same without.
Moral of the story: Everyone of us have our own problems, but all we need is some love and someone to love.
Good points: revealing the background stories slowly throughout the story, slow buildup of romance. The erotic scenes were both sensual and touch and go fashion, not going into immense details. The climax was unpredictable for me, although there was a small hint somewhere earlier.
The author could've done a better job of exploring the 'why' part (why the charterers are doing what they are doing?) rather than have the characters repeatedly say the same thing over and over to make it seem okay. There was a tiny bit of stereotyping (rich and handsome hero) which the story would've fared the same without.
Moral of the story: Everyone of us have our own problems, but all we need is some love and someone to love.
September 21, 2013
Originally published at Reading Reality
Two people who have decided that life has thrown more at them than they can handle meet in the most unlikely of places--in the middle of the night, at the top of the Brooklyn Bridge, screwing their respective courage to the sticking point in preparation to jumping off.
Both Christa and Henry have decided to commit suicide. But neither planned on a witness. Discovering each other, nervous and shaking in the darkness, pulls them each out of the pit. At least for one night. Individually, they are willing to make the leap, but they think the other should be saved.
They make a pact, they’ll spend 24 hours together; alive. They can always come back.
But for 24 hours, they give each other one perfect day. Three places each that are fun, or meaningful, or merely distracting. Each plans to give the other a reason for living, even though each plans that they will be the one back on the bridge the next night.
Henry has been consumed by clinical depression for more than a decade. Christa has just received the diagnosis that her breast cancer has returned, even though she bears the physical and emotional scars from her first mastectomy.
Neither has been willing to burden friends or family with the weight of caring for or about them. They are both afraid to reach out.
But it’s just one day. Until it’s nearly cut short, and they both realize how precious a day can be.
Escape Rating B+: This is short and sweet and incredibly sappy. I will confess that I did not expect to like it at all. But once I got started I couldn’t put the damn thing down.
The story alternates between Christa’s point of view and Henry’s. Also it literally counts down the hours in their 24 hours. It made it easy to count down the day, but the change in perspective (and voice) was a teensy bit jarring, even though the idea was to allow readers to get inside the characters’ heads, since that’s what brought them to the bridge in the first place.
Christa’s situation was way easier to understand than Henry’s. I appreciate the attempt to explore what that level of total depression feels like, but the author didn’t quite manage to do it for me. I felt more for Christa.
The way the story resolved, well, I was hoping for a reason that they decided to fight for togetherness (Christa’s cancer precludes happy ever after). But the mechanism that broke the deadlock was slightly deus ex machina.
The Bridge is still a terrific three-hankie special. If you enjoy slightly weepy happy endings, you’ll love this one.
Two people who have decided that life has thrown more at them than they can handle meet in the most unlikely of places--in the middle of the night, at the top of the Brooklyn Bridge, screwing their respective courage to the sticking point in preparation to jumping off.
Both Christa and Henry have decided to commit suicide. But neither planned on a witness. Discovering each other, nervous and shaking in the darkness, pulls them each out of the pit. At least for one night. Individually, they are willing to make the leap, but they think the other should be saved.
They make a pact, they’ll spend 24 hours together; alive. They can always come back.
But for 24 hours, they give each other one perfect day. Three places each that are fun, or meaningful, or merely distracting. Each plans to give the other a reason for living, even though each plans that they will be the one back on the bridge the next night.
Henry has been consumed by clinical depression for more than a decade. Christa has just received the diagnosis that her breast cancer has returned, even though she bears the physical and emotional scars from her first mastectomy.
Neither has been willing to burden friends or family with the weight of caring for or about them. They are both afraid to reach out.
But it’s just one day. Until it’s nearly cut short, and they both realize how precious a day can be.
Escape Rating B+: This is short and sweet and incredibly sappy. I will confess that I did not expect to like it at all. But once I got started I couldn’t put the damn thing down.
The story alternates between Christa’s point of view and Henry’s. Also it literally counts down the hours in their 24 hours. It made it easy to count down the day, but the change in perspective (and voice) was a teensy bit jarring, even though the idea was to allow readers to get inside the characters’ heads, since that’s what brought them to the bridge in the first place.
Christa’s situation was way easier to understand than Henry’s. I appreciate the attempt to explore what that level of total depression feels like, but the author didn’t quite manage to do it for me. I felt more for Christa.
The way the story resolved, well, I was hoping for a reason that they decided to fight for togetherness (Christa’s cancer precludes happy ever after). But the mechanism that broke the deadlock was slightly deus ex machina.
The Bridge is still a terrific three-hankie special. If you enjoy slightly weepy happy endings, you’ll love this one.
November 14, 2020
Suicide is a touchy issue for me. Not the act of suicide necessarily, but the reasons for it and its repercussions. It's hard for me to find a book that treats the issue sufficiently seriously and also is heart warming enough that I don't feel something tearing inside of me.
This book strikes that perfect balance. The suicide meet cute has been done before, but never this well and this deeply. Neither h nor H is a magical fairy that will fix the other person's life. Their reasons for wanting to commit suicide make a lot of sense. They are the hardest reasons - the ones not born from impulsivity. Both of them take stock of their situations and judge them too difficult for them to endure.
That's why the book's hopefulness strikes such a perfect note for me. The solution isn't magical life fixing pixie dust. The problem is very real and severe and never goes away. It makes the affection that does bloom out of it all the more rewarding for being bittersweet.
Yes, the book could have been much heavier. It might have been more realistic if the characters weren't so likeable and nice. They could've been more self absorbed and not as eager to accept each other. It could have gone deeper into the leads' failed relationships and painted them in much starker colors. But if the book had been more serious I would have stayed far away from it.
I've read this story many times and will likely read it again and again. It's short, sweet, and hopeful. It suggests that even if you're broken, you might find someone else who's broken and together become, well, still a mess but at least a somewhat functional one.
It's going into my list of my favorite books, which includes things like The Book Thief, Perdido Street Station, and 1984.
This book strikes that perfect balance. The suicide meet cute has been done before, but never this well and this deeply. Neither h nor H is a magical fairy that will fix the other person's life. Their reasons for wanting to commit suicide make a lot of sense. They are the hardest reasons - the ones not born from impulsivity. Both of them take stock of their situations and judge them too difficult for them to endure.
That's why the book's hopefulness strikes such a perfect note for me. The solution isn't magical life fixing pixie dust. The problem is very real and severe and never goes away. It makes the affection that does bloom out of it all the more rewarding for being bittersweet.
Yes, the book could have been much heavier. It might have been more realistic if the characters weren't so likeable and nice. They could've been more self absorbed and not as eager to accept each other. It could have gone deeper into the leads' failed relationships and painted them in much starker colors. But if the book had been more serious I would have stayed far away from it.
I've read this story many times and will likely read it again and again. It's short, sweet, and hopeful. It suggests that even if you're broken, you might find someone else who's broken and together become, well, still a mess but at least a somewhat functional one.
It's going into my list of my favorite books, which includes things like The Book Thief, Perdido Street Station, and 1984.
January 19, 2014
The main problem with this book is that it may become too popular, inspiring a zany, Pynchon-esque singles club on the west tower of the Brooklyn Bridge where couples meet up and jaunt around the city and its environs for a day before… well, no spoilers. But before doing something else.
I don't know that this is the sort of book I'd normally read, but I'm glad I did. It's well written, and a nice character study of two pretty broken people near the end of their tethers. The switching perspectives between Henry and Christa worked well to move the story along and set the mood of being inside a person's head who is committed to throwing themselves off a bridge and all that that entails. Which can obviously be a mood-dampener.
About halfway through I did get the feeling that I'd read something similar to this before, not the paean to New York City (though certainly there have been enough books, and there's enough room for all of them, that are essentially love letters to New York), but the tale of suicide caught at the brink. It's a little similar to (though less crowded than) Nick Hornby's _A Long Way Down_, the point at which I decided to give Nick Hornby a break for a bit. But I enjoyed the book. I'm not 100% sold on the entire plot and how the characters ended up after their one day reprieve, but I did clamp down my willing suspension of disbelief and enjoyed wondering how it was going to end for both of them for pretty much the whole story, as I knew nothing of the author's prior work and didn't know whether she'd twist a sadistic knife at the end or have them fly off on clouds of cotton candy and unicorns at the end.
I don't know that this is the sort of book I'd normally read, but I'm glad I did. It's well written, and a nice character study of two pretty broken people near the end of their tethers. The switching perspectives between Henry and Christa worked well to move the story along and set the mood of being inside a person's head who is committed to throwing themselves off a bridge and all that that entails. Which can obviously be a mood-dampener.
About halfway through I did get the feeling that I'd read something similar to this before, not the paean to New York City (though certainly there have been enough books, and there's enough room for all of them, that are essentially love letters to New York), but the tale of suicide caught at the brink. It's a little similar to (though less crowded than) Nick Hornby's _A Long Way Down_, the point at which I decided to give Nick Hornby a break for a bit. But I enjoyed the book. I'm not 100% sold on the entire plot and how the characters ended up after their one day reprieve, but I did clamp down my willing suspension of disbelief and enjoyed wondering how it was going to end for both of them for pretty much the whole story, as I knew nothing of the author's prior work and didn't know whether she'd twist a sadistic knife at the end or have them fly off on clouds of cotton candy and unicorns at the end.
June 22, 2014
Twenty-four hours. To try to save his life. By letting him think he’s saving mine.
This is such a strange little story that got me thinking.
Despite both Christa and Henry's determination to do themselves in, neither wants to see the other commit suicide. They find purpose in that, trying to save each other.
They make a deal. They'll each select three locations to visit in the city – places that are nice and maybe something new. As they think on their own experiences with the city, it's interesting to see how they're recalling stuff they like to do – probably the first time they've done so in a long time. In Christa's quest to make Henry cheer up, she's remembering all the things that ever made her happy.
Another funny thing is their different backgrounds. Henry is rich and fancy. Christa is a diner waitress barely scraping by.
As if I’ve never been to a goddamn museum.
They both see the good in each other and feel that the other doesn't have a valid reason for death.
I have reasons for wanting to die, but his? How could they possibly be good enough? How dare he want to snuff out this light?
I think that ending was extremely weird. I was going to give this four stars, thinking the author would tie everything together at the end. But instead, she brings in a completely new idea that just felt too left-wing.
Sexual Content: One graphic sex scene
This is such a strange little story that got me thinking.
Despite both Christa and Henry's determination to do themselves in, neither wants to see the other commit suicide. They find purpose in that, trying to save each other.
They make a deal. They'll each select three locations to visit in the city – places that are nice and maybe something new. As they think on their own experiences with the city, it's interesting to see how they're recalling stuff they like to do – probably the first time they've done so in a long time. In Christa's quest to make Henry cheer up, she's remembering all the things that ever made her happy.
Another funny thing is their different backgrounds. Henry is rich and fancy. Christa is a diner waitress barely scraping by.
As if I’ve never been to a goddamn museum.
They both see the good in each other and feel that the other doesn't have a valid reason for death.
I have reasons for wanting to die, but his? How could they possibly be good enough? How dare he want to snuff out this light?
I think that ending was extremely weird. I was going to give this four stars, thinking the author would tie everything together at the end. But instead, she brings in a completely new idea that just felt too left-wing.
Sexual Content: One graphic sex scene
September 17, 2013
This is my favorite kind of story -- the kind that takes a dark subject matter but leave me feeling hopeful.
I'm impressed at how the author packs so much into a short novel. Without giving anything away, THE BRIDGE is like BEFORE SUNRISE or AFTER HOURS, it's a "one crazy night" novella that brings the reader on a journey that all takes places in little more than 24 hours.
As a New Yorker I love the attention to New York details (especially Brooklyn). And some of my favorite moments in the book are the side conversations Henry and Christa overhear during their travels. There's great dialogue in those moments that reflect some of the voices you hear in the city everyday.
I'm impressed at how the author packs so much into a short novel. Without giving anything away, THE BRIDGE is like BEFORE SUNRISE or AFTER HOURS, it's a "one crazy night" novella that brings the reader on a journey that all takes places in little more than 24 hours.
As a New Yorker I love the attention to New York details (especially Brooklyn). And some of my favorite moments in the book are the side conversations Henry and Christa overhear during their travels. There's great dialogue in those moments that reflect some of the voices you hear in the city everyday.
November 1, 2013
This is a story about 2 people who meet on the Brooklyn Bridge...they have both gone separately to the bridge with the intention of committing suicide. Their plans are thwarted when they discover the other one there.
They agree to hold off on their suicide attempts for 24 hours. They spent the next 24 hours together in an attempt to keep the other person from going through with the suicide.
I loved the descriptions of NY and the places they decided to go and visit. And I enjoyed how their relationship evolved.
This was a novella...and I really wish it had been longer because I would have liked to see what happens to them.
They agree to hold off on their suicide attempts for 24 hours. They spent the next 24 hours together in an attempt to keep the other person from going through with the suicide.
I loved the descriptions of NY and the places they decided to go and visit. And I enjoyed how their relationship evolved.
This was a novella...and I really wish it had been longer because I would have liked to see what happens to them.
January 17, 2014
My inner editor (which, if you know me, you know is very, very loud) couldn't stop wanting to make tweaks while reading The Bridge. It's not a perfect book. So why five stars? Because I laughed out loud, literally. I also cried. Some paragraphs hit much, much too close to home. Some descriptions were spot-on perfect. Some metaphors were lovely. And halfway through, I thought "this has to end badly, either the right way and I will be sad and mad, or the wrong way and I will feel cheated." And then the author pulled it off, ending it perfectly, and I realized that she'd foreshadowed the ending and I still didn't see it coming. It's going into my Reread Anytime collection.
April 23, 2015
I did really like this very short book about two people who meet while climbing the Brooklyn Bridge one night, both with the intention of jumping off of it. He's been plagued by depression his whole life, she has just discovered a lump in her remaining breast after just having recovered from having her first breast removed, having chemo and having her husband leave her.
I loved both these characters. They are intelligent and have really though out their decision making. But, they didn't count on meeting each other, figuring out that by helping other people you are also helping yourself. A really emotional, lovely story.
I loved both these characters. They are intelligent and have really though out their decision making. But, they didn't count on meeting each other, figuring out that by helping other people you are also helping yourself. A really emotional, lovely story.
November 10, 2015
Committing suicide shouldn't be the basis for a meet-cute, so I had my reservations about this novella. But the author does an admirable job of realistically portraying two people who are in great pain yet find glimmers of hope in each other. Love doesn't cure all, but it does provide them with a reason to keep trudging through day to day. Packs a surprising emotional punch into a few pages, along with a loving tribute to NYC. Definitely made me want to read more by the same author.
January 6, 2014
I loved this--until the end. Great writing and characterizations, excellent flavors-of-NY setting, unique storyline. Then something happened that was so jarring, coincidental, bizarre, and out of place. I thought Henry might take some steps to make him feel better about the world and seize a little piece of hope, as Christa had. Instead his change came from outside forces in a manner that was abrupt and unconvincing. A lovely story that falters in the last few pages. 3.5
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
October 7, 2013
I loved this novella. It has romance, pierogies, and great characters, and it manages to tell a love story without needing to cover everything over with a rose-colored panache. Life is messy and hard, this book says, but there's still room in it for love.
January 27, 2014
From something as morbid and grime as suicide, to talk of hope as "painful as love" has been achieved beautifully by Ms.Rebecca Rogers Maher. The plot is simple & predictable. Yet the writing is the cherry on the icing.
October 28, 2013
An emotionally gutting, challenging read. Loved the angst, loved the drama. Really, really gutsy.
May 25, 2018
Interesting concept for a novella. Cute with a bit of hope. Worth a read.
September 24, 2013
A lovely love letter to NYC
September 25, 2013
Wow! Just wow!
Read
October 17, 2013Suicide romance, you guys! A very satisfying read, compelling story, sympathetic characters—definitely recommend!
August 29, 2021
3+
Would have been much more powerful if the ending had been different.
Would have been much more powerful if the ending had been different.
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