A review by maple_dusk
The Castle School (for Troubled Girls) by Alyssa Sheinmel

emotional hopeful mysterious sad medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? Character
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? Yes
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

3.0

When I first began reading The Castle School, I really loved it for its representation of often mischaracterized and stigmatized mental illnesses like eating disorders.

But here comes the biggest qualm with this book. To me, this book kind of explained away and dismissed the genuine issues Moira and the other characters had with their parents and adults like the Dr. Princes, because they were "just scared for them out of care." Even if that were true (I don't believe it to be entirely), none of that justifies the way Moira's mother frequently yelled at Moira throughout her life. That shit scarred Moira, and it's shown more than once in this book. I feel like the fault of the adults' treatments of these teenagers gets swept under the rug by the end of this novel.
This was directly addressed in the book, and it's mainly answered with, "Forgiveness can be one way to repair relationships" or something like that. And that's true, but I can't help but feel this book glossed over some important things, like legitimate criticisms of medical institutions for people with mental illnesses.

Favorite Excerpts:

But he doesn't know I'm here. He'll never know anything ever again. When he died, he was frozen in time with whatever knowledge he'd built up by then, whatever personality he'd grown into by the age of seventeen.
I'll never know what he might have grown up to say. 
I take a sip of water from the glass beside my bed.

What a beautiful and sad way to describe death. I love it.

I know what it feels like to truly miss someone. It's a constant ache, a hum inside my rib cage. In ninth-grade biology, we learned about a condition called a heart murmur, and I think missing Nathan is like a metaphorical heart murmur. A tiny disruption in my heartbeat, a nearly imperceptible buzz distorting the whole system. 

"And why only girls?"
Dr. Prince smiles. "It can get complicated when you have girls and boys running around together."
I roll my eyes but stop myself from lecturing him about being so gender normative. Cass and Virginia are a couple. Daniel's gay. And what about gender-nonconforming kids? Do the Princes admit nonbinary students?

"Carol tells me that in your group session this morning, she spoke about the ways finding closeness with one person can distance us from others."
[...]
"There's nothing wrong with being close with another person."
"Not at all."
"There's nothing wrong with having a best friend."
"Indeed. But Nathan was not merely your best friend, Moira. It seems he was also your only friend."
I shrug. "Maybe once you find someone you can be that close to, you don't need anyone else."
"I know it may feel that way, but it also leaves you quite susceptible to loneliness."

"Saying what if never helped anyone. You can't undo the bad things that have happened. Pain cannot be avoided, but it can be accepted."
"So I should just be in pain forever--about Nathan, about Eleanor?"
"Of course not. But some psychologists believe that resisting pain is what drives the majority of our suffering. When something terrible happens, it's natural to fight it: This shouldn't have happened! I wish I could go back in time, undo what I did. But resisting that pain doesn't make it go away. We can't go back in time. We are better served by accepting what happened, allowing it to change us, and working with what is left.
"This is called radical acceptance. You cannot change the fact that Nathan got sick and died."

"Well, if that's how you feel, then are you saying you don't think Eleanor can be helped? That she's destined to be sick and hurt herself forever? Is that what your ex-wife was talking about when she said you weren't going to fight to keep the schools open? Are you just radically accepting Eleanor's parents' lawsuit?"
[...]
Dr. Prince shakes his head. "Some circumstances can be changed with the right tools. The world is full of injustices that we must fight to change. And I'll be honest with you, Moira: I don't know if keeping the school open is the right thing to do after all that's happened. But to accept things is not to say they're okay. It is to say: This is what is."
[...]
"I didn't say it is what it is," he corrects gently. "I said, this is what is."
"What's the difference?"
"You're worried about your roommate. Allow yourself to feel that worry. You're grieving your best friend. Allow yourself to feel that grief. Trying to resist what has happened leads to further suffering. It doesn't mean that you're okay with the fact that Nathan is gone any more than denial means you forgot he died. But this is what is, what will be, no matter how hard you try to fight it."

"This is what is," I echo. "It's not as simple as it sounds."
[...]
"So radical acceptance is really difficult, even for an expert like you?"
"Yes."
"But I should try anyway?"
"Yes."

Here goes:
Nathan is dead.
Eleanor is in the hospital.
Randy is moving to New York.
The Castle Schools--both of them--might be closed.
My mother and I are very different people.
This is what is.
The hurt, the grief, the anger, the fear, the excitement, the joy.
They are all what is.
Accepting that is probably the most radical thing I could do.
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