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A review by bookph1le
That's Not What Happened by Kody Keplinger
5.0
This is, hands down, one of the best books I've read in some time.
"It's a good story. And you know what people like way more than the truth? A good story."
I don't usually quote books in my reviews, but when I reached that one, it was such a perfect summation of the book that I knew I would have to use it. It encapsulates everything Keplinger is trying to get across with this novel. Yes, this is about the aftermath of a school shooting, but in many ways this book isn't even about school shootings.
In this review, I will not reveal what Lee is trying to figure out: what actually happened the day of the shooting. However, I will be discussing some of the major plot points in detail, so if you haven't read the book, you may consider that spoiler-y. I advise continuing with this review at your own risk.
I want to get back to the concept of stories. We humans like to talk about how important the truth is, but I don't think we're being honest, which is one of the biggest reasons this book resonated with me. What we humans like most are good stories, stories that jibe with what we think and believe, stories that help us make sense of the randomness and chaos of the world. Regardless of whether the characters in this book were touched directly by the tragedy or hearing about it from afar, everyone concerned wants a good story. Lee wants a story that will help her assuage her guilt, that will make her feel as if she's set the record straight at last. Sarah's parents want a story that helps them come to terms with losing their daughter. Ashley wants a story that helps her find meaning in what happened to her. Eden wants a story that helps her find a way to keep forging ahead, even though she feels like she's drowning. Even Denny wants a story, though it's not the story that's often told about him. He wants a story that he himself has determined, one where he gets to control his own narrative. As for Kellie and Miles, I can't say much about what they want without giving some major plot points away, so I won't.
What Keplinger captures so masterfully in this book is the deep-seated human need we all feel to lay things out in a nice, sequential line that tricks us into thinking things make sense. Sometimes this need is so great that it causes us to ignore the parts of the story that don't add up, the details that don't make sense, because then we'd have to face the fact that the story we've been telling is more fiction than fact. This is definitely the case with Sarah's parents, and it's the case with many members of Sarah's church as well. Grappling with how the God they believe in could let something like the shooting happen is difficult and possibly faith-shaking, so they take comfort in the idea that Sarah died a martyr for her faith.
Some readers may feel like this book is an assault on religion, and I can see what would make them feel that way. I don't think it is, though. The McHales and their church are, of course, religious, but they're not the only ones telling themselves tales that comfort them, adjusting the details to meet their own needs. Lee is doing it as well. In fact, we all do this, every day of our lives. Who hasn't taken a narrative, tweaked it a bit, adjusted or embellished a detail here and there, to make it come out the way we want? Maybe we do it because we don't want our parents to find out we were sneaking out, or we don't want our boss to know we skipped work to go to a baseball game, or we don't want our significant other to know we're seeing someone else on the side. Maybe we do it because if we don't we'll have to face our own flaws and inadequacies. Sometimes we aren't even fully aware that we are changing the narrative to suit our needs, and if we run up against something that causes us to see that we are spinning a fiction, it causes us a lot of pain.
Another thing I think this book does so well is how it addresses trauma and how different people deal with their trauma differently. Some people try to derive meaning from it, like Ashley does. Some people get stuck, ending up in the same spirals, like Lee does. Some do their best to stay afloat while the water closes in over their heads, as it's doing with Eden. Some want to leave it in their past, don't want to be defined by it, want to start a new, different story of their life, as Denny does. And as tempting as it is for me to get into how some of the other characters are dealing with their trauma, I won't. Sometimes I don't mind spoiling stories, but in this case I do, because I really want people to read this book and discover those spoilers on their own.
This book is important, but maybe not in the way some people will think. It has obvious resonance in the current United States, where mass shootings have become tragically common precisely because Americans can't agree on one story and are therefore doomed to be stuck in the same endless loop while these tragedies continue to play out. But this novel is also timely because it is such a deep, intimate look at cognitive dissonance, about the tricks our minds play on us in order to protect us from the pain of facing things we don't want to face, or don't feel equipped to face. Leaning to pick apart a story isn't an easy experience for anyone, and it's one that can be extraordinarily painful, but it's a skill that benefits people to develop. Without understanding how to recognize the stories we're being told--and are telling ourselves--how can we ever learn not to be taken in? How can we develop the critical thinking skills required to enable us to pick through the threads in order to find where they mesh and where they don't? This is an enormously compassionate novel, one I think is well worth reading precisely because it will make you think.
"It's a good story. And you know what people like way more than the truth? A good story."
I don't usually quote books in my reviews, but when I reached that one, it was such a perfect summation of the book that I knew I would have to use it. It encapsulates everything Keplinger is trying to get across with this novel. Yes, this is about the aftermath of a school shooting, but in many ways this book isn't even about school shootings.
In this review, I will not reveal what Lee is trying to figure out: what actually happened the day of the shooting. However, I will be discussing some of the major plot points in detail, so if you haven't read the book, you may consider that spoiler-y. I advise continuing with this review at your own risk.
I want to get back to the concept of stories. We humans like to talk about how important the truth is, but I don't think we're being honest, which is one of the biggest reasons this book resonated with me. What we humans like most are good stories, stories that jibe with what we think and believe, stories that help us make sense of the randomness and chaos of the world. Regardless of whether the characters in this book were touched directly by the tragedy or hearing about it from afar, everyone concerned wants a good story. Lee wants a story that will help her assuage her guilt, that will make her feel as if she's set the record straight at last. Sarah's parents want a story that helps them come to terms with losing their daughter. Ashley wants a story that helps her find meaning in what happened to her. Eden wants a story that helps her find a way to keep forging ahead, even though she feels like she's drowning. Even Denny wants a story, though it's not the story that's often told about him. He wants a story that he himself has determined, one where he gets to control his own narrative. As for Kellie and Miles, I can't say much about what they want without giving some major plot points away, so I won't.
What Keplinger captures so masterfully in this book is the deep-seated human need we all feel to lay things out in a nice, sequential line that tricks us into thinking things make sense. Sometimes this need is so great that it causes us to ignore the parts of the story that don't add up, the details that don't make sense, because then we'd have to face the fact that the story we've been telling is more fiction than fact. This is definitely the case with Sarah's parents, and it's the case with many members of Sarah's church as well. Grappling with how the God they believe in could let something like the shooting happen is difficult and possibly faith-shaking, so they take comfort in the idea that Sarah died a martyr for her faith.
Some readers may feel like this book is an assault on religion, and I can see what would make them feel that way. I don't think it is, though. The McHales and their church are, of course, religious, but they're not the only ones telling themselves tales that comfort them, adjusting the details to meet their own needs. Lee is doing it as well. In fact, we all do this, every day of our lives. Who hasn't taken a narrative, tweaked it a bit, adjusted or embellished a detail here and there, to make it come out the way we want? Maybe we do it because we don't want our parents to find out we were sneaking out, or we don't want our boss to know we skipped work to go to a baseball game, or we don't want our significant other to know we're seeing someone else on the side. Maybe we do it because if we don't we'll have to face our own flaws and inadequacies. Sometimes we aren't even fully aware that we are changing the narrative to suit our needs, and if we run up against something that causes us to see that we are spinning a fiction, it causes us a lot of pain.
Another thing I think this book does so well is how it addresses trauma and how different people deal with their trauma differently. Some people try to derive meaning from it, like Ashley does. Some people get stuck, ending up in the same spirals, like Lee does. Some do their best to stay afloat while the water closes in over their heads, as it's doing with Eden. Some want to leave it in their past, don't want to be defined by it, want to start a new, different story of their life, as Denny does. And as tempting as it is for me to get into how some of the other characters are dealing with their trauma, I won't. Sometimes I don't mind spoiling stories, but in this case I do, because I really want people to read this book and discover those spoilers on their own.
This book is important, but maybe not in the way some people will think. It has obvious resonance in the current United States, where mass shootings have become tragically common precisely because Americans can't agree on one story and are therefore doomed to be stuck in the same endless loop while these tragedies continue to play out. But this novel is also timely because it is such a deep, intimate look at cognitive dissonance, about the tricks our minds play on us in order to protect us from the pain of facing things we don't want to face, or don't feel equipped to face. Leaning to pick apart a story isn't an easy experience for anyone, and it's one that can be extraordinarily painful, but it's a skill that benefits people to develop. Without understanding how to recognize the stories we're being told--and are telling ourselves--how can we ever learn not to be taken in? How can we develop the critical thinking skills required to enable us to pick through the threads in order to find where they mesh and where they don't? This is an enormously compassionate novel, one I think is well worth reading precisely because it will make you think.