How Does 'The Sky Is Everywhere' Explore Sisterhood?

The novel 'The Sky Is Everywhere' dives deep into the raw, messy reality of sisterhood through Lennie's grief after her sister Bailey's sudden death. What stands out is how Jandy Nelson captures the duality of sisterly love—the way it's both comforting and suffocating. Lennie's memories show Bailey as her anchor, the wild one who pushed boundaries while Lennie played it safe. Their dynamic was classic yin-yang, but death flips this. Now Lennie's left chasing echoes of Bailey in poems scribbled everywhere, even on cupcake wrappers. The book doesn't romanticize their bond; it shows the guilt Lennie carries for living when Bailey can't, and how sisters imprint on each other's identities. The scattered poems mimic how grief fragments memory, making their connection feel hauntingly present despite Bailey's absence.

'The Sky Is Everywhere' treats sisterhood like a fingerprint—utterly unique and impossible to replicate. Lennie and Bailey's relationship is messy, hilarious, and achingly real. Nelson doesn't just show the big moments; she nails the tiny ones—like how Bailey stole Lennie's clothes but made them look better, or how they communicated through shared playlists. Their bond was a private language, which makes Bailey's death feel like losing a dialect no one else speaks.

The exploration of 'sisterhood beyond blood' is equally powerful. Lennie's grandmother and uncle form a patchwork family that holds her together, showing sisterhood isn't always about DNA. The way Lennie's grief manifests—through chaotic poetry, stolen kisses, and sabotaged relationships—reveals how sisters shape our emotional blueprints. Even in absence, Bailey's influence lingers like a shadow version of herself, teaching Lennie to finally step into her own light.

What's brilliant is how the book contrasts Lennie's two love interests as reflections of her sisterhood struggle. Toby represents clinging to the past (he shared Bailey too), while Joe offers a future where Lennie exists beyond 'Bailey's sister.' The scattered poems act like breadcrumbs back to their bond, proving sisterhood doesn't die with a person—it just transforms.

Jandy Nelson's 'The Sky Is Everywhere' redefines sisterhood as a force that outlives death. The story avoids clichés—there's no saintly dead sister here. Bailey was flawed, reckless, and magnetic, which makes Lennie's grief more complex. Their relationship pulses through every page, especially in Lennie's habit of writing poems to Bailey and leaving them in random places. It's like she's still trying to have a conversation with her.

The physical tokens of their bond hit hard—Bailey's bedroom preserved like a museum, the shared bed where Lennie now sleeps alone. These details make their connection tactile. Nelson also cleverly uses music as a sisterhood metaphor: Bailey was the lead singer, Lennie the accompanist, and now Lennie's terrified to perform solo. The book's true genius is showing how sisters are mirrors—Lennie only recognizes her own strength by seeing Bailey's reflection first.