My Sister's Keeper

For the second time, I'm reading Jodi Picoult's My Sister's Keeper. The first time I read it for pleasure--one of those bestsellers I picked up to read on vacation. This time, I'm reading it for my book group. It isn't classic fiction, by any means. Some of the story elements seem unnecessary and a little silly (the relationship between Campbell and Julia; the fact that Julia has a lesbian sister who plays no real role in the story but meets the obligatory " at least one homosexual character per novel" requirement for fiction writers today), and the teenage characters in the story, Anna especially, seem to think far too deeply to be believable. The novel definitely has the qualities that make it fit among today's popular bestsellers--which can be a good or bad thing, depending on your perspective. But it's a compelling story, addressing some important ethical issues. And it's interesting to me personally because the story revolves around a character with leukemia, which is the disease that my first husband died from.

At the beginning of the novel, Anna, age 13, has filed a lawsuit against her parents, seeking medical emancipation. Although she has never really been sick herself she has spent a lot of time in hospitals undergoing tests and enduring surgeries, shots, and transfusions. Anna, a product of preimplantation genetic diagnosis, was conceived to be a donor for her sister Kate, who has suffered from leukemia since she was a toddler. As the story begins, Kate is facing renal failure and death, and Anna, tired of being used for "spare parts," decides she doesn't want to give Kate the kidney that will save her life. The novel traces the events surrounding the crisis through the eyes of several characters: Sara and Brian, the parents; Jesse, the oldest of the three children; Kate; and Anna.

All kinds of questions arise: Is it ethical to "bioengineer" a child to be a donor for another? Should a person of any age be forced to provide blood, marrow, organs to keep someone else alive? Is it justifiable for a mother to neglect her other children for the sake of one who is seriously--perhaps terminally--ill? How hard should we fight to stave off the inevitable--death?

It was an interesting juxtaposition the morning that I began reading this novel. I was reading while eating breakfast, and I decided to read Spurgeon's selection in Morning and Evening for that day before I began reading the novel. He was discussing the sin of idolatry, pointing out that today's golden calf is often children, and having favorites can be a source of great sin. The Lord is grieved when parents dote on their children "beyond measure." And here is a story of what happens when a parent makes an idol of a child--probably not what Picoult had in mind, and yet this is clearly the case in this novel.

This is a story of idolatry and its results: Sara, the mother and wife, has sacrificed her marriage and her other two children's well-being to the idol of Kate and keeping Kate alive at any cost. And in that quest, Sara, like many today, has no notion of children as a gift from God, something to be received with gratitude. Anna is a product of geneticists who have combined sperm and egg so that she hasn't been born a child with a unique personality and set of gifts; rather, she is a simply a donor, and her value lies in her ability to keep Kate alive with the spare parts she can provide. Anna worships the idol of identity and personal value, so much so that she is willing to let her sister die rather than provide a healthy kidney that will  keep her alive.

I can't help but think of an incident from my own life when my own family was fighting this terrible enemy of leukemia. Jon had been in an all-out battle for over a year. He had endured one of the harshest chemotherapy treatments available for about six months, only to relapse. He underwent a bone marrow transplant; his donor was his sister. It was one of the most horrible days I can remember when we sat in the doctor's office in Ann Arbor, learning that the transplant had failed, and the leukemia was back. What were our options at this point? The doctor looked at Jon and said that he could try further chemo treatments, but it was doubtful they would work. And then he said, "I know you're a Christian, and I just want to remind you that for us Christians, there are worse things than dying." And we understood what he was saying, and we had to agree.

This is a novel where the worst thing is dying. There is no hope in this situation, and the characters can see only bad and worse in their efforts to stave off the worst. And that's why there can be no happy ending (it's certainly a surprise ending--but by no means happy) for My Sister's Keeper, which depicts a world without God and ethical choices that fall into only three categories: bad, worse, and worst.