65 pages • 2 hours read
Riley SagerA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Content Warning: This section of the guide discusses the novel’s misrepresentation of mental health conditions and its depiction of mental health crises, psychological manipulation, suicidal ideation, and attempted suicide.
The distortion of reality and imagination plays a major role in the novel. Charlie’s stress-related hallucinations contribute to her role as an unreliable narrator and make her question whether she can trust Josh or even herself. Charlie’s disconnect from reality also limits her ability to overcome her grief and guilt. Charlie developed an obsession with movies shortly after her parents’ death; watching movies with her grandmother was important to Charlie’s immediate coping, but her movie-style hallucinations started at her parents’ funeral. Charlie calls these hallucinations “movies in her mind” (36), and she explains to Josh that they are like life but “more manageable” (37).
The effect of these hallucinations on Charlie’s life in the long term marks how the imagination can be detrimental as well as healing. Charlie’s hallucinations, which initially served as coping mechanisms, began to undermine her hold on reality as her friendship with Maddy suffered and, in particular, after Maddy’s murder. Maintaining balance with imagination is important; otherwise, reality may slip past unnoticed, leaving a person uninvolved in their own life and vulnerable to others. Sure enough, Charlie’s perception of life through movies contributes to and reflects her low self-esteem. Against the vibrancy of films, and next to Maddy’s inherent theatricality, Charlie feels dull; compared with Robbie, she “[feels] inferior in every regard” (41). When Robbie first met her, he only had to tell her she was special: “Just like that, Charlie was smitten” (14).
The novel also emphasizes the power of unchecked imagination to shape reality. Charlie stops taking the pills her psychiatrist gave her to prevent the hallucinations before her road trip due to the pills’ unpleasant side effects. As a result, she hallucinates throughout her fateful night with Josh, Marge, and Robbie. During her car ride with Josh, she sees Maddy blame her for her death and attack her in the rest stop bathroom. Charlie’s real-world reaction to this hallucination is extreme enough to prompt the other woman in the bathroom to respond, “Whatever shit you’ve been drinking, I suggest switching to water. Or coffee” (122-23). Charlie starts to question her grip on reality as a result; it is at this point she realizes that she might be losing control of the movies in her mind. While the subconscious can provide important clues to what’s happening in reality, retreating into imagination entirely leaves a person unprepared to deal with the gritty emotional complexity of real life. Charlie senses early on that something is off about Josh. Yet, with her confidence already low, she is vulnerable to Josh’s gaslighting, which makes her self-doubt worse.
In general, the hallucinations cause confusion, anxiety, and disorientation, hinting at the steadily degrading border between Charlie’s imagination and reality. They limit and distort Charlie’s senses and leave her unaware of where she is and who is with her. While running from Marge in the lodge, Charlie endures more movies playing in her mind against her will. She imagines running from Marge in the ballroom, where Marge shoots the mirrors, creating a “spiderweb of cracks” (275). This last image suggests the state of Charlie’s mind as the last of the line separating imagination and reality begins to fade. Two of Charlie’s final hallucinations involve her seeing Maddy in the alley where she last saw her and her father sitting in the back of Robbie’s car.
At the end of the night, Charlie’s character arc comes to a climax as she finally decides that she must stop seeing the movies in her mind. She tells the hallucinated Maddy, “I need to live in the real world” (278). Throughout the novel, the phrase “Charlie knows” is repeated, often in reference to something that is ultimately not true. Finally, though, the phrase emerges in the context of Charlie knowing that things must change: “Charlie knows that the movies in her mind need to stop. She can’t spend parts of her life in a dream state” (318). Charlie’s decision to confront reality and its sadness and scariness directly allows her to finally manage her grief, anger, and guilt. Six years following her experience, Charlie has not had any hallucinations and prefers aspects of her real experience to the film adaptation that has been released. When Josh picks her up and asks her about the movie, she tells him it was “not bad,” but “[r]eal life is so much better” (322). Though Charlie’s ability to switch off her hallucinations by choice is unrealistic and problematic (people with mental health conditions cannot simply choose to stop their hallucinations), the text engages with Charlie’s recovery from mental illness in a poetic sense to demonstrate her character development. By the end of the novel, Charlie has re-established a boundary between reality and imagination by facing her past and creating a satisfying life.
Charlie’s inability to stay grounded in reality feeds into her struggle to trust wisely and balance justified suspicion with paranoia. At times, Charlie trusts too much, often distracted or misled by her hallucinations. She enters a stranger’s car even as a nearby “Take Back the Night” flyer advises her not to trust strangers. She follows Marge, who kidnaps and tortures her. She also doesn’t question Robbie until his role in Maddy’s death is undeniable. Conversely, she tends to leap to conclusions when her suspicion is sparked. Though her suspicion of Josh is proven to be justified, given his false identity and his knowledge about the tooth, she is so immersed in her internal cinematic narrative that she cannot pivot. Once her mind has cast him as the worst possible villain, he cannot become anything more nuanced. This issue is exacerbated by her lack of trust in herself, which Josh further deteriorates with his gaslighting. Over the course of the novel, Charlie must learn who she can actually trust in order to survive.
The manner in which gaslighting destabilizes a person’s instincts related to trust, especially regarding themselves, is an important aspect of this theme. The novel’s use of red herrings in Josh and Marge adds to this aspect. The motif of Maddy’s mantra (“Be smart. Be brave. Be careful.”) marks her conscious effort to combat The Blurred Line Between Reality and Imagination. Josh’s use of his knowledge about Charlie’s movie hallucinations, however, exacerbates the blurring of that line, using it to his advantage. At one point, despite her instincts telling her otherwise, Charlie reflects that she “could be wrong about Josh. It could all be a huge misunderstanding. Her fanciful imagination running at full gallop because her life has been a guilt-ridden train wreck for two months” (118). After she hallucinates Maddy attacking her, reacting badly enough to startle the other woman in the bathroom, Charlie decides that she is indeed “no longer capable of trusting what she sees” and “that it [is] herself she [doesn’t] trust” (124). She then leaves, believing that “if she can’t trust herself, then she needs to trust Josh” (125). This belief only changes when she becomes conscious of Josh’s gaslighting: Josh asks if she is carsick, something he asked when she was supposedly hallucinating; Charlie notices the music has been started over from the beginning; and she sees the word “HELP” that she wrote on the window (140, 142).
In turn, following Josh’s betrayal of her trust, Charlie continues to struggle to find something between full trust and outright paranoia. Still clinging to character archetypes as a way of determining the trustworthiness of others, Charlie chooses to trust Marge. That Marge turns out to be untrustworthy stings:
A stinging sense of betrayal streaks her fear. She had liked Marge. She trusted her. Charlie had thought of her as kind and grandmotherly—not too different from Nana Norma. As a result, Charlie had gone out of her way to protect her when she should have been focusing on her own safety (238).
Though Marge reveals herself to be Maddy’s grandmother, a woman striving to discover her granddaughter’s killer, Marge’s willingness to kidnap, torture, and even kill Charlie to get information makes Charlie’s decision to trust her a poor one. This second failed choice in terms of trust is another clear piece of evidence that living mentally in a film world does not serve Charlie well.
The final revelation that Robbie is the real Campus Killer marks the greatest failure of Charlie’s cinematic methods of evaluating the trustworthiness of the people in her life. With the veneer of his archetype stripped away, Robbie is “a complete stranger to her now” (295). Charlie’s declaration before she drives his car into the ravine—“I’m going to kill you” (300)—is both literal and metaphorical. The line and her subsequent action mark her acceptance that the man she loved was only an illusion. That man is dead, in a sense, and Charlie is now prepared to take revenge on the real man left in that illusion’s place.
Overall, the novel emphasizes that real people are generally more layered—in terms of motivations and emotions—than characters in a movie. Josh, despite his aggression and secrecy, is someone that Charlie can trust. Marge had secret violent intentions for her, but only because the woman was desperate to find her granddaughter’s killer; after Marge apologizes to Charlie, the two form a mutual understanding. This fact, in turn, makes determining who and how to trust a persistent challenge. Something between immediate trust and constant paranoia is necessary.
Survive the Night focuses heavily on how the blame for violence against women is often shifted from the men who commit that violence to the women who are victims of it. The novel showcases society’s blaming of women through, for example, the university’s focus on female responsibility, Charlie’s guilt over Maddy’s murder, and Robbie’s justification for killing women. After the Campus Killer begins his murders, Olyphant University responds by teaching all the women at the university self-defense classes and supplying them with pepper spray. Though these tools may be useful to women, as Charlie later notes, taking only these actions puts all the responsibility of preventing and stopping misogynistic violence on women rather than on the men who commit it.
After Maddy’s murder, Charlie internalizes the idea of female responsibility for misogynistic violence. She blames herself for not stopping Maddy’s murder or saving her in time. This self-directed blame torments Charlie psychologically; for Charlie, it is an integral part of The Devastation of Grief, strong enough to nearly drive her to suicide. Charlie’s internalization of this responsibility also shapes her actions. She comes to view stopping the harm befalling women as her personal responsibility. Accordingly, she takes great personal risk; that is, believing Josh to be the killer, she resolves to confront and stop him single-handedly. Only when Marge tells Charlie that women need to support each other does Charlie realize the depth of misogyny and victim-blaming present in society. Charlie’s epiphany is captured in the following passage:
She blamed herself and hated herself and punished herself because that’s what women are taught to do. […] No one tells women that none of it is their fault. That the blame falls squarely on the awful men who do terrible things and the fucked-up society that raises them, molds them, makes excuses for them. People don’t want to admit that there are monsters in their midst, so the monsters continue to roam free and the cycle of violence and blame continues (179).
Charlie later learns that the man who hurt the women at Olyphant, including Maddy, is Robbie and not Josh. Nonetheless, Charlie’s epiphany holds: She was not responsible for Maddy’s death.
Robbie’s inherently misogynistic explanation for why he kills his victims, all female thus far, ties into this theme as well. Robbie does not explicitly state that he seeks out female victims because they are women. However, his explanation for why his victims deserve to die represents a sincere belief that women should remain passive and silent. Robbie murdered Maddy “because she was too brash […] Always loud. Always demanding attention” (294). Similarly, he murdered the other two women because “[t]hey thought they deserved the attention they were constantly begging for” (294). In contrast, the “special” women, or the ones undeserving of harm, are women who are demure, modest, and quiet. Charlie, by finally re-establishing The Blurred Line Between Reality and Imagination enough to see the real Robbie, becomes assertive enough to prompt Robbie to attempt to kill her too.
In the character arcs of both Charlie and Marge, The Devastation of Grief is central. Both women’s actions are powerfully motivated by grief, with the extreme nature of their actions corresponding to the profound depth of their grief. The novel captures how grief can manifest in diverse ways, with the potential to trigger conflict or inspire unity.
Charlie’s grief is compounded by her intense guilt over Maddy’s death, which The Wrongful Blaming of Women for Misogynistic Violence prevents her from realizing is unfounded. Already vulnerable after her parent’s death, Charlie directs all her pain inward, eventually attempting suicide. Only after surviving this attempt does Charlie make a decision aimed at her self-preservation. Namely, “afraid that if nothing changed, she’d experience another unfortunate accident, this time with a different result” (199), Charlie decides to leave Olyphant. The narrator explains in the following passage:
What’s not okay, at least to Charlie, is remaining in a place where she’s miserable. Where she’s reminded daily of a deep, painful loss. Where memories sting and guilt lingers and not a week, day, hour goes by in which she doesn’t think, I shouldn’t have left her. I should have stopped him. I should have saved her (21).
The novel’s events are thus set in motion by Charlie’s fledgling efforts to move past her guilt, an undertaking that the events of the novel push forward.
In contrast to Charlie, Marge channels her grief into action, directing it outward as rage and a demand for justice. The depth of Marge’s grief matches Charlie’s. At Maddy’s funeral, Marge, “overcome with grief, tilted her head back and screamed into the blue September sky” (61). Marge tells Charlie, “When I found out Maddy was dead, it felt like someone had jammed this knife right into my heart and plucked it out. The pain. It was too much” (255). But whereas Charlie recalls taking a handful of her white sleeping pills and “swallowing them all” (255), Marge insists that she must “do something” because her grief “hurts so bad” (283). When Charlie learns that Marge is Maddy’s grandmother, she tries to connect with the woman through their shared grief. Marge rejects this attempt if Charlie cannot tell her who the killer is. It is not until Charlie delivers Robbie’s tooth to Marge that she smiles, “closes her eyes and lets out a long, satisfied sigh” (313). With Maddy avenged, Marge is finally able to let her grief go, and she and Charlie are able to part ways as friends.
Maddy’s red coat and the Mountain Oasis Lodge act as symbols of Charlie’s and Marge’s respective manifestations of grief. Maddy’s coat is a reminder of Maddy for Charlie, symbolizing the happy memories the two had together. However, over the course of the trip, the coat becomes stained, hinting at Charlie’s guilt, especially given her final interaction with her friend. The lodge’s physical deterioration, in turn, suggests Marge’s mental deterioration since Maddy’s death. The lodge fire, on the one hand, reflects Marge’s rage, making clear the threat that Marge’s grief poses for her and Charlie’s lives. On the other hand, the purifying nature of fire is relevant afterward as Charlie makes peace with Marge and returns to the ruins of the lodge to finally let go of the past.
By Riley Sager