Angie's Reviews > Her Name in the Sky

It's rare these days that I read a book and am blown away by it. It's even rarer that I read and book and then immediately go back to page one to start it again. And then, when I'm finished reading through a second time, go back reread moments of the book again and again because I don't want it to ever end. Her Name in the Sky embodies everything I know fiction can be: entertaining, edifying, painful and honest and real, and completely satisfying.

I'm always a little depressed after I finish a book I've really enjoyed. It's always hard to leave a carefully constructed world filled with people I wish I knew in real life and people, like so many relationships in real life, I'm only privy to a small moment of their lives. But when I finished HNITS, I was devastated, so devastated that I haven't wanted to read anything else because I don't want to say goodbye. I'm currently slogging through my next book—a result of my HNITS hangover.

So what's so special about this novel? Why has it left me in the best kind of emotional turmoil since I read it a few weeks ago? Kelly Quindlen doesn't reinvent the wheel here. Thematically, it's not a new story. It's the same coming-out narrative I've read again and again. It's another story about falling in love with your best friend and not knowing if your feelings are ever going to be returned or will ever really be okay or accepted or, more devastating, if you're ever going to confront the truth about yourself and live that truth.

But Quindlen must be a magician because she takes this story, these tropes I've so many times before and transforms them into something that feels groundbreaking and so phenomenally important. Maybe it's the way she writes about Hannah and Baker, who are flawed and confused and who aren't overly extraordinary or weird and who, sexuality aside, seem like normal teenagers who do normal teenager things. Maybe it's because it's set in the South, where the religious right has ensconced itself and reigns supreme. Maybe because, without making it overly dramatic, there's so much at stake for these girls. Or maybe it's because it hit a little too close to home.

Society tells us that religion and queerness are mutually exclusive ideas. You can either be religious or gay, but you can't be both. That pressure comes from both communities. And religion is a common obstacle in many coming-out stories, so, once again, Quindlen isn't doing anything new here. But what is new is the way she refuses to let her characters fall prey to that either/or dichotomy. In HNITS religion is treated as an institution that while causing a great amount of harm also matters deeply to Hannah and Baker. And regardless of where they end up—identifying as gay or lesbian and/or identifying as Catholic/Christian—Catholicism has had a major impact of their lives and is given that consideration and respect. And the way Quindlen handles their conflicting ideas about Catholicism sets this book apart from all the rest.

This is a story about truth, shame, sacrifice, redemption and, ultimately, love. And it's the best book I've read in a really long time.