48 pages • 1 hour read
Alice FeeneyA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Narrator Amber Reynolds opens the book by introducing herself and revealing three points before Chapter 1 that will inform the rest of the book: “1. I’m in a coma. 2. My husband doesn’t love me anymore. 3. Sometimes I lie” (1).
It is Boxing Day, the day after Christmas, 2016. Amber Reynolds struggles to figure out where she is. She feels suspended between “sleep and wakefulness” (1). She panics when she determines she cannot move her body, nor can she talk. She can hear but cannot speak, and she begins to understand, through the antiseptic smells and the steady throb of a machine, that she must be in a hospital and, more alarming, she is “voiceless and still” (23). She understands she is in a coma.
The pain is steady rather than intense. She is aware of nurses coming into her room and attending to her, brushing her hair, and turning her over. She gathers from their conversations that she was brought in the night before after she survived a nasty one-car accident. She is relieved at last when she hears her husband, Paul, arrive in the room. However, something in his voice disturbs her, and somehow she is certain that he had something to do with the accident. In his conversation with the attending doctor, Paul reveals his hand is badly injured and that there are marks on Amber’s neck not consistent with the car accident. Paul offers no explanation. Amber learns that she was not wearing her seatbelt, which she always does, and that she was driving Paul’s car, which she never does.
The following morning, her sister, Claire, visits. Claire is her younger sister and, to Amber, their parents’ favorite. They always doted on her, and Amber has always been jealous of that attention. Amber suddenly sees a disturbing vision of the car accident that includes an image of young girl in a pink dress walking down the middle of the street, causing the car in which Amber is riding to veer sharply and collide with a tree. In the vision—or perhaps it is a fragment of a memory—Amber has a sensation of being thrown through the car’s windshield. Paul and Claire then depart together. Although following time is difficult for Amber, she is aware that sometime later Paul returns, and she feels two strong hands momentarily grip her neck. Paul is joined by two detectives who question him about where his wife was going, why she took his car, and why neighbors reported the two of them arguing quite loudly. Again, Paul offers no answers.
As Amber lies in the hospital bed, she struggles to recall the days leading up to the Christmas Day accident. For the last six months, she has worked as an assistant host to a popular BBC morning radio show called Morning Coffee. She is not entirely happy but plays the part of an engaged team player, finding comfort with her only friend at the studio, Jo. It is the Monday before Christmas, and the topic for today’s show is a roundtable on the psychological importance of imaginary friends. After the show, Amber heads to a restaurant to meet Jo for lunch. Amber runs into an ex-boyfriend named Edward Clarke. Feeling increasingly distant from her husband since the publication of his successful first novel some months earlier, Amber cannot help but notice how good Edward looks. Amber has begun to be a bit concerned about the possibility her sister and her husband are having some sort of affair. Amber came home from work unexpectedly just days earlier and found the two of them sharing a bottle of wine, her sister doused with exotic perfume and dressed in tight clothes. Amber wants to keep her marriage together, but she cannot bring herself to ask Paul about Claire. She states, “The harder I try to hold us together, the faster we fall apart” (32).
For some time now, tensions have grown between her and the morning show’s iconic host, Madeline Frost, to the point that the show’s producer quietly tells Amber that she is most likely going to be let go after the first of the year. Desperate to keep a job, even one she does not enjoy, Amber, with Jo’s help, plots an elaborate campaign, which she grandly dubs Project Madeline, designed to get Madeline fired. That night she sets up a bogus Twitter account and starts the rumor that Madeline Frost will soon be leaving Morning Coffee.
The next day, Tuesday, December 20, Claire comes to visit Amber at her home just down the street from Claire’s. Amber tells her about running into Edward, although she is not sure why she shares that confidence with her sister. Amber is taking a stroll in the garden when a robin crashes into the patio window. Amber is fascinated watching the bird die, broken and alone. Even as she tosses the dead bird into the garbage can, she thinks how easy it is to die.
In diary entries dating to 1991, Claire (presumably, although at this point the impression is that Amber is their author) shares her expectations starting at a new school. She is 10, and keeping a diary is the assignment her teacher has given during a unit on Anne Frank. In her diary, Claire recounts how often her parents argue and how heated the arguments can be. She is certain they do not love her anymore. Although Claire records that the family has moved a lot, they are now living in her grandmother’s house following Nana’s death from cancer. At school, Claire meets Taylor (who readers will later learn is Amber, going by her middle name), but Claire is uncertain over whether she wants a friend this soon at a new school. At home Claire spends much of her time alone. She is fascinated by her grandmother’s keepsakes, most notably an iron doorstop shaped like a robin. She is sad the bird cannot fly.
For reasons that are never made entirely clear, the principal narrator of the novel, Amber, claims to be a pathological liar—she lies compulsively and unapologetically, and she is uncertain whether an authentic Amber even exists under the numerous masks she wears, whether with her husband, with her sister, with her ex-boyfriend, or with her coworkers at the studio. Seldom in a novel that uses an unreliable narrator does that same unreliable narrator so freely admit she lies.
Thus, the reader is cautioned to weigh each plot point that Amber shares for credibility. Even in these opening chapters, the reader is confronted with plot twists that rest on deliberate obfuscations. Jo, for instance, really Amber’s only friend at the radio studio, is not real, as we learn more than 100 pages later. We assume the diary entries are Amber’s, but later their author is acknowledged to be Claire. Amber tells us that her husband, visiting her late in the evening, puts his hands about her neck to choke her; only later do we realize that it is most likely not Paul at all but a hospital orderly, Amber’s ex-boyfriend. Given its narrator suspended in a coma and even then an inveterate liar, the novel is, from the beginning, a mystery intent on preserving that mystery.
Amber is a difficult character to approach. Not only does she admit to lying and to pretending to be someone she is not at work, but she also admits that she is reluctant to reflect on her past: “When the memories are as complete as I can manage,” she says on the very first page, “I bury them until they are quiet enough inside my head to allow me to think” (3). Given her precarious physical and mental state after the accident, Amber, however, wants to understand how she came to be in a coma. These memories, she sees, she cannot afford to bury. She is helpless, or more exactly voiceless and still.
In these opening chapters, however, every apparent clue that might help her remember remains a question, and the more Amber reveals, the more she conceals. The opening chapters plays on a number of conventions from mystery genres to create an uneasy feeling that nothing is what it seems and that no one can be entirely trusted. As Amber admits as she heads to the studio for a plum job working with a radio icon whom she, oddly, hates: “I fix a smile on my face before stepping into the office and reminding myself that this what I do best: change to suit the people around me” (7). In addition, the subject of the morning radio show, imaginary friends, raises questions of the reliable integrity of any of the characters Amber interacts with. Shifting realities, imaginative excesses, contradictory appearances, and the rich irony of the reliability of any single perception of the real-time world define Amber. Then there are the diary entries from 1991, entries readers are led to assume are from Amber for the next 100 pages or so until she says the diaries belong to Claire. Diaries, presumed to be those reliable resources (who would lie in a diary?), here only make the narrative fog heavier. Reality, as Amber observes as she free-floats in her coma, exists between dreams and wakefulness.
There exists just below the surface of Amber’s recollections a persistent feeling of alarm, a sense that perhaps there is more to Amber’s accident than she understands. Touches of red in scenes, psychologically distracting, are used to unsettle the reader. One red object—the wine, for instance, a mail pouch, the robin’s breast, a toothbrush—may not in itself be settling, but the cumulative effective of the red in these opening chapters disturbs. Perhaps the most disturbing moment in these opening chapters, however, is Amber’s account of the robin she finds dying in her garden after it flies into the sliding glass door of the patio by the garden. In a conventional first-person novel, the reader is inclined to sympathize with the narrator, assuming a kind of intimacy given the first-person account. Given that Amber is in a coma and is helpless and terrified that her family might turn off her life support, Amber would surely be a sympathetic character. In this disquieting moment, however, Amber seems decidedly unsympathetic: “As I get closer to the glass my eyes find its brown body lying motionless on a carpet of green. I can’t leave it there broken and alone.” She proceeds to pick up the dead thing with her bare hands and drop it in the trash bin: “I feel strange about dispensing with a life as though it is rubbish all because of one bad decision, one wrong turn” (52).
As these chapter end, Amber seems suspended between reader’s sympathy and their distrust. Nothing appears entirely reliable. Motivations seem cloudy, identities and time seem fluid, and despite the narrator’s professed urgent need to figure out what has happened to her, the novel itself appears to exist in an uneasy fog. Thus, these opening chapters position the reader much like Amber in her coma—struggling to piece together fragments into some reliable and reassuringly coherent plot.
By Alice Feeney