CONTENT WARNING FOR EATING DISORDERS
Room Empty by Sarah Mussi is probably the worst book I have ever read. Skimming this book again to write about it gave me a headache. Not only is it full of harmful stereotypes; but it is a perfect example of why you should not mix romance and mental illnesses.
Room Empty is about 17-year-old Dani, who is “ravaged” by an eating disorder. She admits herself into a treatment centre for addicts of various forms – though she doesn’t actually state her goal for admitting herself. In fact, she says she fears that if she lets herself eat, she would “Swallow up every thought and feeling and action.” (page5) Which is a common way to think when you have an eating disorder, but it makes little sense that she would admit herself for help if she doesn’t want help. She meets a boy called Fletcher who is there for drug addiction. Together, they try to find out more about Dani’s trauma to help her get answers about herself. I think the idea in itself wouldn’t be awful if the author had removed the romance aspect and executed the idea better. The author made the discovering of trauma more like an episode of Scooby-doo rather than treat such a delicate topic with care. I knew from the first few chapters that I would not like this book. I kept reading in the hopes that it would get better, but it never did.
The first thing that Mussi did wrong, was create the main character to be unlikeable. Sometimes, an unlikeable main character can be a successful device. However, she constantly picks apart those who she considers friends and more. Having an unlikeable main character tends to work better in genres where we aren’t supposed to feel pity for the character. In this story, the reader is supposed to care about Danni and what happens to her. But it’s hard to care for a character who is “glad about Carmen” (page 133) killing herself because that meant she met her new, toxic boyfriend. Danni has absolutely no care for anyone but herself. Although it could be argued that having an unreliable narrator for this story could work because it could show the warped way of thinking that eating disorders can give you.
This book is so inconsistent. One minute she is being carried upstairs because she’s too weak to walk up them (though, surely if she were that weak, she’d be in a hospital,) and the next she rips a door down to get into a locked room. She admits herself to a facility that helps with addictions surely to help her with her eating disorder, yet she goes out of her way to ignore the help. She states, “I didn’t bother going down to breakfast.” (Page 68) If she were in a professional clinic for help, they would not allow her to skip breakfast entirely. No one can force anyone to physically eat, but they would most likely force a patient to the breakfast room. A few pages later, fourteen-year-old Alice is kicked out of the facility for “cutting herself and overdosing on prescription painkillers.” (page 73) The author uses this as a way to show the reader that “reality is shit.” (page 74) This section of the chapter is written in such a weird, fake deep way that the seriousness of the situation is serious undermined. “In recovery they skate over the problem of reality. They just tell you you need to deal with life on life’s terms. Life’s terms: just Alice and her Stanley knife and a packet of codeine.” (page 73) What does that even mean? This sentence barely makes any sense and is structured awfully. I feel like the author tried too hard to be edgy and different and not like the other writers who write about this topic. As for the facility kicking out a patient – an underage patient at that – for the reason they’re there for, that wouldn’t happen. Imagine kicking someone out of help for doing what they need help with. It’s so painfully unrealistic. The disgusting, toxic side character (boyfriend of Danni) then blames Carmen (the girl who took her life near the start of the book) for this 14-year-olds attempt. This could teach young, vulnerable audiences to put blame on suicide victims for their own problems.
A few chapters later, Fletcher force-feeds Dani a biscuit. She struggles – obviously – and he says “You see what I mean? You can’t do it. Not even to save me.” (page 166) My jaw actually dropped when I read this. Not only does he expect her to get better in record time, but he also tries to manipulate the situation to be about him. I really don’t know what the author wanted to do with this chapter. Are we as the reader supposed to side with Dani or Fletcher? Personally, I couldn’t side with either. Both characters are manipulative as each other and their relationship is beyond toxic. Fletcher continues to belittle Dani and use her trauma against her. And its almost like the author wanted this point of the book to be the turn around point where Dani realises, she’s been doing everything wrong.
After Dani’s toxic boyfriend discharges himself and runs away to live on the streets because Dani isn’t getting better to his standard of time, Dani has a breakthrough. She somehow uncovers her trauma and realises that she deserves to eat. Following this, Dani can suddenly eat two meals perfectly fine without throwing them up. This is unrealistic and harmful because could be suggesting that eating disorders are easy to switch off. Which is just weird when the whole book is about how difficult eating disorders are. Fletcher then comes running back to Dani, asking if they can “Try again” if she “[carries] on eating.” (page 266) Is the reader supposed to ignore everything that Fletcher has done and said? Because Dani sure seems to. This is such a bad example on younger readers because it teaches them that even when someone is horrible and toxic to you, you should forgive them if you love them.
The ending is ambiguous and weird. Dani remembers exactly which street and building her trauma took place (even though she was 4) and goes back to it. She says that “No door can hold out” against her, as she breaks the door down. This girl had to be carried up some stairs, but she eats one piece of toast and is able to break down a door? (page 278) Then she remembers all of her trauma and learns the truth about something that happened in her past. But then she starts to… die? I don’t know if this is from shock, exhaustion or because lack of food (Though the toast did seem to give her the strength to knock down the door.)
In the last few pages, she is in an ambulance/hospital and Fletcher is there. They tell each other they’ll be okay, but we don’t learn if she actually dies or not.
I was so happy when I finished this book that it was over. It definitely was not worth £7.99, and I highly suggest against reading it if you want a good piece of fiction with eating disorder representation. Because it does not. It just made me angry. 0/10 – I’d give it less if I could.