Review of Gabrielle Zevin's elsewhere

There are two things that must be said about my reading of Gabrielle Zevin’s elsewhere. First is that I could not finish the novel. Second is that I am not the target demographic (that being middle school to early high school girls). With that in mind I begin my review with the understanding that, in part, the reason I disliked this novel was because I wasn’t necessarily supposed to like it and that I may not have a complete picture of the story.

The story of elsewhere revolves around a girl named Liz who is, herself, only fifteen years old. She has also recently died and must deal with the prospects of being dead. It’s a pretty decent beginning to a story that holds promise. There is a great deal of exploration available regarding this topic including, but not limited to, how she died, what the after life is ‘actually’ like (as a work of fiction/fantasy the after life can legitimately mean just about anything), and how she and the people she left behind will proceed with their (un)lives. For the most part Zevin manages to explore these ideas to a greater or lesser extent.

My problem with this novel, and why I eventually had to put it aside, is mainly due to the depth at which Zevin develops her characters, their lives, and the world they live in. With Liz’ life prior to death firmly placed in the real world there are a variety of rules that need to be maintained in order to ensure my ability to suspend my disbelief. One such rule has to do with the circumstances and differences of elsewhere’s afterlife when compared to Heaven or the variety of other Heaven analogs found in other religions. For example, how does the afterlife presented in the story reflect the afterlife presented in Christianity? How about Hinduism or Buddism?

It is in the story’s inability to successfully put my uneasiness and questions to rest that it bothered me. To continue with the above question, Elsewhere isn’t Heaven. Unlike eternal life and happiness in Heaven, Elsewhere eventually sends you back to earth as an infant (a sort of limited re-incarnation). However, when the question of religion is posed in the novel, the answer is “Nothing has changed.” (Zevin, 78) which is an entirely untrue response.

Besides the novel’s inability to address my concerns regarding realism I felt that the story was both slow and uneventful, moving sluggishly through Liz’ after life without progressing Liz’ story in any great detail, followed by quick and poorly explored changes that gloss over potential inconsistencies. For instance, Liz initially disliked the idea of being dead, desiring instead to return to the life she once had in order to experience the things she never got a chance to before. It’s a reaction that I can understand and accepted, however, it took nearly half the story to move past. During this time she slowly spirals down into depression (which was too easily permitted) that allows Liz to alienate almost everyone she had ever met in Elsewhere, only to mend these broken relationships with a too easily given, and accepted, apology.

I could continue expanding on the intricacies and inconsistencies of Elsewhere and Liz, but I am trying to limit spoilers should my review pique your interest. In the end, though, I cannot recommend elsewhere. There are just too many issues within the novel, and I find that I cannot suitably suspend my disbelief.


Zevin, Gabrielle. elsewhere. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2005.