Beautiful Graves

“He had his chance and he blew it. He should’ve run after her faster. And when he almost reached her, he should have yanked the back of her shirt without caring what it’d look like. He should have told her she was perfect. But he didn’t, so now he needs to jump.”

This unfinished draft of the novel that 19-year-old Joe is working on delves into the novel’s broader commentary on the nature of death and regret. His protagonist regrets not seizing the moment and making the most of his decisions in life and therefore loses the love of his life due to his own inaction. In many ways, this passage reflects Joe’s own emotions about his failed connection with Ever after they first meet.

“This is the part where I should suggest we exchange emails, or numbers, or Instagram handles. Anything. Have I learned nothing from the past two weeks? I’ve felt homesick toward this guy like he was a place, and now I’m going to let him walk away, just like that? But something stops me. Pride? Fear? A combination of both?”

Though her mother’s death fosters most of her inaction, this passage makes it clear that Ever is already allowing her fears to push her into making drastic decisions even before tragedy hits. She is afraid to pursue Joe—the stranger she meets on a girls’ trip to Spain—and she almost leaves without getting his contact information. If it hadn’t been for his intervention, she would have passively allowed another moment of her life to pass her by.

“I don’t want to look for him outside. Something tells me that if he got outside, he is not alive anymore. And that makes me want to just cease to exist. Not actively die. Just…discontinue to be.”

This passage showcases Ever’s present-day pessimism. When her cat goes missing, she immediately jumps to the worst-case scenario, believing that he might be dead. This moment reveals just how intensely focused she is on the specters of death and loss, and the scene highlights the fact that she has not yet recovered from the trauma of losing her mother.

“It’s not that I’m good with crowds—I hate public speaking of any kind—it’s that putting myself through something I absolutely loathe gives me a perverted sense of pleasure. As I said, I deserve any punishment I can get. Why not add frequent and stressful human interaction into the mix?”

In addition to Running From Guilt and Shame, Ever punishes herself because of those feelings, and this issue manifests in a variety of ways. She hates crowds and public speaking, which is why she punishes herself with a job that forces her to do just that. Her work with a tour company in Salem forces her to do things she hates, and she uses this as a way to atone for the role that she inadvertently played in her mom’s death. Her derisive, hateful tone in this passage indicates the true depths to which she engages in self-sabotage.

“Hasn’t he listened to our conversation? We’re polar opposites. In looks too. He is movie-star gorgeous, and I’m pitifully normal. Not ugly by any stretch of the imagination, but nothing to write home about.”

In this passage, Ever once again refers to herself in a condescending, dismissive way that hints at the unexpressed depths of her self-loathing. Her unflattering comparisons of herself and Dom also serve as a reminder that their relationship is doomed to failure—and would be even if Dom were to survive his fateful trip to Walgreens. By highlighting the wildly different interests between her and Dom, Ever also implicitly draws attention to her greater compatibility with Joe.

“‘Till when, Ever? How long do you intend on pining for a guy you will never see again?’ Nora asks seriously. […] She leans forward, desperate to catch my gaze. I know she isn’t just talking about my love life. She is talking about hers too. She wants me to find someone so she won’t feel so bad about moving out when she does. Her departure looms over our heads like a green, slobbery monster that wants to tear me limb from limb.”

This scene emphasizes just how intensely Ever has come to rely on Nora’s presence and emotional support. While her primary focus is on herself and her needs, she does eventually notice that her inability to move forward is trapping Nora in a period of stasis as well. However, her response to that realization is to name it among her many fears. By personifying this fear as a “green, slobbery monster,” Ever indicates that her own psyche is populated by a cast of half-tangible threats that she spends most of her time trying to avoid.

“The streets are littered with people. Laughing and kissing and hugging and living.”

At this point in the novel, Ever hasn’t outright admitted that she is not living her life as she should, but she does subconsciously acknowledge her issues through the observation expressed in this passage. By forlornly observing a panorama of happy people who are living their lives, she obliquely references the fact that she is failing to do this herself. The wistful tone of the writing style implies that Ever envies those around her and desires to find some form of happiness for herself, even if she currently feels as though she doesn’t deserve it.

“It was horrible, Lynne. There was nothing we could do. Nothing I could say to her. And she was such a trooper. Strong, courageous, engaging. She tried to fight it with all she had. You should’ve seen her.”

In this passage, a distraught Dom tells Ever about losing a patient, candidly expressing his grief over the incident and revealing his admiration for the patient’s will to live. In addition to revealing Dom’s straightforward mindset about death, the passage also highlights death’s inevitability. His story also draws attention to the unhealthy aspects of Ever’s own outlook; while Dom views the patient’s death as a reason to make the most of every moment, Ever views the presence of death as a reason to avoid making the most of her time.

“Jealousy sinks its claws into me when I picture his family. They sound like a normal happy family. I remind myself that they’ve had their fair share of disasters. That I, too, have precious memories with my family. Even if they’re now tainted by what I’ve done.”

By personifying the emotion of jealousy and giving it literal “claws,” Ever showcases the detrimental effects of running from her feelings of guilt and shame. Her mindset has created a divide between herself and her family, and now that she sees how close the Graves are with each other, she only feels a heightened sense of grief over losing her mom and distancing herself from her father and brother.

“I no longer feel the achy, unexplained longing to be Virginia Woolf. To fill my pockets with stones before getting in the water. And that’s a huge win.”

At the beginning of the novel, Ever notes that she wants to be like Virginia Woolf and fill her pockets with stones before getting in the water. Her grief, guilt, and shame over her past trauma have caused her to give up on living. However, with Dom’s appearance, she feels a renewed sense of motivation, and her reference to a “huge win” indicates the slow return of her enthusiasm for life.

“You make me feel like no one else does, Dom […] You’re hope, personified.”

Though Dom is not necessarily the best romantic interest for Ever, his ability to overcome adversity and make a successful life for himself inspires her to do the same. With the force of his will and positivity, he shows her that it is possible to overcome her grief, guilt, and shame and reclaim her life, and he also encourages her to pursue her dreams.

“In the tavern, I decide that something is definitely off. Dom barely looks at me. He doesn’t drape his arm along the back of my chair like he usually does, and he refrains from gushing about my outfit and meal choice and general existence. I eat my shepherd’s pie and try to pretend this isn’t acutely awkward. I ask myself if maybe I’m not being grateful enough for Dom. He fits himself so seamlessly into my life. He is great with my friends and showers me with gifts, attention, and orgasms.”

The reason for Dom’s strange behavior in this chapter is not revealed until nearly the end of the novel. In this passage, Shen uses these details of vague uneasiness to foreshadow the later revelation of Ever’s past connection to Joe. In this moment, however, Ever merely recognizes the shift in his behavior toward her without fully apprehending the reason for it, and her own insecurities keep her from inquiring further. His distance in this moment is a direct result of discovering Ever’s past with Joe, though he does not mention this to her at all before his death.

“There are still grave sketches hanging on my pinboard from the week after I met Joe. I glance at them, and something inside me wilts, because Joe was right. When we don’t see each other, we don’t create. And when I don’t create, I feel underwater.”

Art is a recurring motif throughout the novel, adding nuance to the thematic focus on Embracing Life and Releasing Fear. Ever hits upon this idea when she notes that when she does not see Joe or embrace the love that she feels for him, she loses the motivation to continue with her art. Because her main motivation for staying away from Joe is her fear over what might happen as a result, this dynamic demonstrates that her fear of potential consequences is preventing her from actively living.

“I intend to sit Dom down when we get back to Salem, look at his schedule, and make him trim the fat. I get that he wants to eat the world, but right now, the world is eating him.”

While most of the novel focuses on the harmful aspects of Ever’s inability to seize life, the novel implies that Dom tends to seize life a bit too much. It is Dom’s determination to live as much as he can and not take any day for granted that tires him out so heavily that he collapses in the street and is fatally hit by a car.

“‘You hurt yourself too. You chose mainstream.’ His words hit me. I remember them from all those years ago. Mainstream people aren’t revolutionary. Nothing good ever comes out of them. Average equals comfort. But I need comfort. I need safe.”

Referring back to a comment he once made about the cons of conformity, Joe essentially accuses Ever of embracing mediocrity rather than pursuing her dreams. By seeking comfort and safety and avoiding new risks and endeavors, Ever has lost her originality, and in this scene, Joe forces her to recognize the fundamental flaws of her approach to life.

“I loved you, Ever Lawson. But I want you to know, you’re the worst thing that’s ever fucking happened to me.”

The bitter cruelty of Joe’s comment in the heat of the moment damages Ever’s already traumatized psyche, worsening her existing fears and inhibitions. Most of her self-sabotaging behavior comes from the fact that she believes she is the worst thing to happen to her loved ones. When Joe explicitly accuses her of this precise thing, his impulsive anger only strengthens her false beliefs about herself.

“I don’t know why everyone I love ends up dying or seriously injured. Mom. Dom. Maybe I’m cursed. Maybe the best thing I can do for Dad and Renn is stay the hell away from them. Maybe they know that, which is why they never call anymore. No wonder you are obsessed with gravestones. You have the tendency to put people under them.”

Shen’s use of the second-person perspective in this scene reveals the vitriolic nature of Ever’s own inner critic. Rather than engaging in more constructive thought patterns, Ever instinctively subjects herself to an internalized form of verbal abuse. She believes that she hurts everyone she loves, and her negative self-talk reinforces her guilt and shame, fueling her compulsion to run from her family, her friends, and her romantic life.

“He looks tired too. It suddenly dawns on me. Why he is smoking. It’s not to look cool or to live the tortured-writer way. It is because he feels guilty—has always felt guilty—that he is the healthy one. The cancer-less brother.”

In this scene, Ever demonstrates a flash of perception that transcends her usual self-absorption, realizing that Joe’s guilt presents in a different way from her own. Unlike Ever, he does not run when confronted with uncomfortable feelings, but he does harbor several unhealthy habits that hint at deeper emotional issues. By causing potential long-term damage to his lungs, he feels less guilt about Dom’s own health struggles because now they’re shared in some capacity.

“It’s like I never left. Like I am back in an old neighborhood. Despite feeling devastated on the inside, I feel the first green sprout of hope pushing through the ash inside me. It’s called hope, bitch. And it was always there. You just had to give it a little nudge, Pippa’s voice laments in my head.”

When Ever returns to San Francisco to see her family after wasting so many years in avoidance, she is overwhelmed by a feeling of hope, and it is significant that in this transformative moment, she hears Pippa’s imagined voice. Although she has ignored her friend’s attempts to reconnect, this moment makes it clear that she has never truly abandoned her love for her friend or for her former life.

“Remind myself that perfect doesn’t exist. That I, myself, slept with Joe and then bailed on him. That humans are deeply flawed creatures. That maybe what matters is that we are not malicious. That we don’t want to hurt others. I know Dad did not move on because he wanted to hurt me.”

Ever is learning to practice forgiveness and be more lenient with both her mistakes and the mistakes of others. This new mindset allows her to take the first steps toward leading a happier life, and for the first time, she refuses to let herself get bogged down by guilt and shame for the missteps that she made in the past.

“San Francisco banned burials on its grounds in 1900, on the basis that the city is dense as all hell. In what must be one of the most dazzling cases of irony known to mankind, the city of San Francisco deemed burials to be health hazards. Let that sink in for a moment. Thus, we bury our loved ones around the city, not inside it.”

This passage imbues the concept of death with a sense of danger and toxicity, and, by extension, the author uses this concrete example as a metaphor for the complicated process taking place in Ever’s mind and heart. Ever thinks it’s ironic that burials are considered hazardous and must take place beyond the boundaries of San Francisco, and her reflections also imply that by allowing the ugly aspects of her mother’s death to take root inside her heart—instead of releasing it outside herself—Ever’s internal peace has been disrupted, and her mental and emotional health has suffered accordingly.

“Because I’m in love with you, but I’m too scared to be with you. Too scared to even tell you. This is the same thing as when I was eighteen all over again. Only now I’ve lost so much; I can’t even begin to imagine what it would feel like to lose you too.”

The frantic tone of this passage reveals the depths of Ever’s fears. Although Ever believed that she was ready to pursue a relationship with Joe, she backs out at the last moment due to her guilt over Dom’s death. She still hasn’t forgiven herself for the role she believes she played in the deaths of Dom and her mother, and, by extension, she also believes that she’ll cause the same misfortune for Joe if she keeps him close. It is only through forgiving herself and releasing blame that she finds the courage to reconnect with Joe on a permanent basis.

“This past week, I’ve felt the pain brush past me, as opposed to going through me. It’s like getting pushed by a stranger while hurrying to catch a train. Not like being run over by one.”

This passage illustrates Ever’s ability to work through the grieving process with much more efficiency than she did following her mother’s death. Her character growth over the course of her time with Dom has allowed her the self-realization she needs to overcome her destructive coping mechanisms for grief.