EDIT 12/30/23: down to one star. just horrendous ain't it.
Leach is clearly a very talented writer, so it’s a real shame that this book was so deeply sinister.
In 2020, I stumbled across a web comic that someone who survived a therapeutic boarding school wrote. It had like 80 chapters, and I must have closed out around Chapter 30 because I was significantly unnerved. It wasn’t until I was reading this book that I understood what I had read then in full. So clearly, I did not know much about the Troubled Teen Industry going into this if it took me a solid number of pages to clock that. And after reading Leach’s exploration, it’s clear she left a lot to be desired. Because I struggle to see how this book is an acceptable work of investigative journalism, memoir, non-fiction, whatever, in any form (I shudder to see this shelved as true crime by some).
Obsession is an inherent part of girlhood, in my opinion, but where this book could have been a) a genuine deep-dive into a hidden industry that has wreaked havoc on generations or b) a tale of girlhood obsession and the simultaneous hunger and fear that feeds it, Leach instead delivered a hollow shell of a text that took advantage of its core characters (yes, characters — not individuals, not women) and genuinely belittled and degraded their memories. The only girl in this novel that Leach knew was the titular Elissa. Calling this “The Elissas” already blurs Elissa, Alissa and Alyssa together, but that’s just the beginning of the problem considering the only way I could distinguish the others was by Alissa’s anorexia and Alyssa’s big boobs. The ultimate problem is that Leach doesn’t know shit about these women. She hardly knows shit about Elissa. She is spinning myths in this book. Your childhood best friend will be unrecognizable to you by college if you have not stayed in touch, and even then still unrecognizable from their former self. Piecing Elissa’s life back together by picking apart the lives of two other women does every single girl involved a disservice. I knew what drugs they liked, what dicks they sucked, what they thought looked fat in the mirror, and how they died, but I did not know what their moms loved about them the most, what their friends hold as key to their memories. Only one person interviewed ever look Leach to task with her inquiries, and what did Leach do in response? Write her off as a “troubled teen.”
My major, massive problem hit from the beginning: creating literal dialogue for these women’s conversations that she cannot even begin to guess at. It is nothing but fiction. What makes it unbelievably stranger is what she chose to put into dialogue: their sex lives? She had them all talking about boys, boobs, asses, grinding, music, and using what can literally only be called AAVE for it. I know the early 2000s were rife with white women approbating that vernacular (and white women still do it en masse) but lord, if you’re going to, just acknowledge it. Then again, I struggle to see how this was supposed to teach me anything or Leach learned anything considering that two of the topics I know the most about, firsthand, were approached here and just. Wrong? Not completely incorrect, but deeply misinformed. At one point, Leach talks about how DBT has become the leading suggestion for helping teenagers struggling with severe mental health issues and addiction. This is true, and as someone who did DBT for 10 months, I think I know a lot about it. So it was fucked up, then, that Leach suggests that “parent management training” is a core tenet of DBT treatment when it absolutely is not. I even went and looked at what DBT guidelines are for adolescents, and PMT is an addition that therapist, patient, and family willingly decide to add. It is not an inherent part of treatment because DBT is a therapeutic form that teenagers can benefit from, and children can learn from its general outline and skills, but they are not really the target, and parents are sure as shit not an active part of it. Also, Leach armchair diagnosed one of the girls with bipolar disorder then quickly suggested it may have been what drove her violent impulses. It’s never brought up again. This is ridiculous and cruel. She undertook very little learning.
I don’t have my book in front of me, but I littered it with color-coded highlights and notes and concerns and I wish I could pull all the statements I hated. But I’ll attempt to wrap this up by saying a lot of people are seemingly praising this novel for being one about the cruel force of addiction and how ill-equipped we are to support addicts, but I never once got the sense that Leach saw addicts as anything other than inevitable corpses. The insane undercurrent of jealousy that ran through this novel and her consistent reminders of how she was a party girl, too, but she never went that far, poor Elissa couldn’t do the same… was just fully offensive. I know she spoke to some families and some of the people referenced here, but I can’t help but think that many of them would find this disingenuous and a real mark against the objectively rich, full, and yes, troubled, lives their friends and daughters and lovers lived. Fictionalizing their deaths left a horrid taste in my mouth, and each of them got the space of about 2 pages to deal with both their deaths and the wakes of them.
When I was 16 I hated The Virgin Suicides. THE BOOK, CRUCIALLY! Because on the second to last page, our little Greek Chorus of boys says It’s a shame all these girls died by suicide. Oh well, guess they were selfish! A lot to unpack there, but when I was 16 myself, it just pissed me off — a book dealing in the ambiguity of the reasoning behind teenage girls’ suicides and how girlhood is perceived and created did the exact thing it was rejecting before, and offered a Reason. The same thing pissed me off here. Leach brings this home by saying I couldn’t figure out why they all died after their years of therapeutic boarding schools and abuse………..all I can say is I think it was the label of “troubled teen” that did them in. While that is a genuinely interesting point to make, she doesn’t investigate the act of labeling girls from a young age enough for that to hold more weight, and it tasted sour. It tasted like blame and excuse, and a quick attempt to be Done with this. She involved herself so much in the lives of these girls, wrapped herself into their pain and trauma and experiences, that it is clear she genuinely believes she suffered greatly to some of the same extent as these literal dead girls did. I was thrown off and, again, pissed.
Someone should take her to serious task for this. Or do I have to do everything by myself.
This review is subject to change and edits once I get my hands back on my book and revisit what revolted me. At this point, it's gonna be a Substack post. Thanks.