Gender Identity/Sexual Orientation
Throughout his career, David Levithan has made important contributions to LGBTQ storytelling in Young Adult literature, and Every Day is perhaps Levithan’s most inventive exploration of the themes of gender identity and sexuality to date. First, Levithan’s depiction of A explores the experience of being non-binary through a truly unique lens: that of a being who exists outside the restraints of one consistent physical form. The Human Rights Campaign defines "non-binary" as "an identity embraced by some people who do not identify exclusively as a man or a woman." Beyond this, non-binary people may identify as both a man and a woman, somewhere in-between, or as neither a man nor a woman. A's personal gender identity falls very closely in line with this definition:
"There were days I felt like a girl and days I felt like a boy, and those days wouldn't always correspond with the body I was in. I still believed everyone when they said I had to be one or the other. Nobody was telling me a different story, and I was too young to think for myself. I had yet to learn that when it came to gender, I was both and neither." (254)
Levithan's portrayal of A as a non-binary character is unique due to the fact that A's physical body does in fact change with each day. This approach illustrates the experience of existing outside the gender binary through a truly inventive lens, as it fully separates gender identity from physical characteristics. When Rhiannon asks if A feels more comfortable in male or female host bodies, A replies, “I’m just me…I always feel at home and I never feel at home. That’s just the way it is” (205). As a disembodied spirit, A experiences gender as separate from the biological traits of each host body, in much the same way that a non-binary person in the real world might experience their gender outside the bounds of the physical characteristics that cisgender people might categorize as specifically "male" or "female."
Although A's journey to understanding their gender identity is different from the journeys of typical humans who do not switch bodies each day, it allows Levithan to discuss the issues real non-binary people face, especially non-binary youth. With the statement "nobody was telling me a different story," A elucidates a problem facing LGBT children and teenagers everywhere: a major lack of representation. As a child, A had no examples of non-binary people to look toward and no affirmation from parents or elders, which contributed to A's difficulties in understanding their identity. Levithan's portrayal of A—although certainly fantastical and dramatized—enters an example of a non-binary character to the archive of YA literature, providing much-needed representation and telling the kind of “different story” that A wishes to have heard as a child.
Levithan further explores LGBTQ themes with his depiction of A's sexual orientation, which seems to align most closely with the definition of pansexuality (attraction to people regardless of their gender). Of their attractions, A states, "In my experience, desire is desire, love is love. I have never fallen in love with a gender. I have fallen for individuals. I know this is hard for people to do, but I don’t understand why it’s so hard, when it’s so obvious" (142). Again, Levithan uses A's fictionalized situation to shed light on real issues faced by LGBTQ teens. A arrives at these labels through a vastly different experience from LGBTQ youth in the real world, but the topics Levithan explores extend beyond Every Day's fantastical plot. A must carve out a place in a world that is catered toward the experiences of others, which is a universal experience for LGBTQ people, even if A's experience as a disembodied spirit is not.
Empathy
As a being who occupies a new body each day, A possesses a uniquely empathetic perspective, one that comes to define both A as a character and the novel as a whole. Of the inspiration behind Every Day, Levithan has stated that he wanted to explore what it would be like “to be a person who grew up without gender, race, sexual orientation, parents, friends, and all of the other things we usually classify ourselves by.” With his depiction of A, Levithan succeeds in creating exactly this type of character. A exists outside all the experiences that typically define people, but this separation from the typical human experience does not make A aloof or disconnected. Instead, A’s ability to live within vastly different host lives leads to a uniquely empathetic and compassionate view of all types of people.
This empathetic perspective is present in Levithan’s depictions of several hosts, but it is perhaps most explicit in his descriptions of the day A spends in Kelsea’s body. Having occupied the bodies of several hosts who suffer from mental health issues, A immediately understands Kelsea’s severe depression and empathizes with her experience. In this chapter, A challenges the common misconceptions surrounding mental health problems, stating that they are not “a matter of mood” or a “matter of personality,” but rather “a matter of chemistry, biology” (119). A understands that “it takes uncommon strength” to live with these mental health issues and claims to have witnessed this strength “over and over again” while occupying various host bodies (119). Throughout this chapter, Levithan emphasizes Kelsea’s strength, even as he unflinchingly illustrates the encompassing power of her depression. In his review of Every Day, critic Frank Bruni writes that Kelsea's story “demonstrates Levithan’s talent for empathy, which is paired in the best parts of the book with a persuasive optimism about the odds for happiness and for true love.”
In a particularly poignant passage, Levithan reveals how A’s experience as a disembodied spirit contributes to A’s uniquely empathetic perspective:
“It’s only in the finer points that it gets complicated and contentious, the inability to realize that no matter what our religion or gender or race or geographic background, we all have about 98 percent in common with each other. Yes, the differences between male and female are biological, but if you look at the biology as a matter of percentage, there aren’t a whole lot of things that are different. Race is different purely as a social construction, not as an inherent difference. And religion—whether you believe in God or Yahweh or Allah or something else, odds are that at heart you want the same thing. For whatever reason, we like to focus on the 2 percent that’s different, and most of the conflict in the world comes from that. The only way I can navigate through my life is because of the 98 percent that every life has in common.” (77)
Instead of seeking out the differences between the hosts, A finds the similarities between them, attributing the ability to successfully occupy the hosts’ lives to these similarities. In the course of Every Day's narrative, A occupies the bodies of hosts from vastly different backgrounds, but A navigates their lives with consistent compassion, recognizing the humanity in each disparate individual.
Demons/Possession
Religion plays a major role in Every Day, as it is one of the driving forces behind the novel's main antagonist, Nathan Daldry. Though Levithan does acknowledge that religion can be a positive force for human connection in the novel, he also elucidates the negative effects of the more closed-minded beliefs of the overly zealous, and Nathan’s crusade against A serves as an example of this. Nathan’s motivation stems from his belief that A is either the devil himself, or a demon doing the devil’s bidding. Without taking the time to get to know A and explore all the possibilities of what may have occurred, Nathan immediately jumps to the conclusion that A is an agent of evil, a nefarious spirit who chooses to possess people against their will. This, of course, is far from the truth, but Nathan finds solace in the rigid, black-and-white rhetoric of demon possession, amassing a large following of like-minded people who unite behind their shared fears and prejudices.
After learning that Nathan has gone public with his story, A conducts an internet search and sees that “the articles and posts in the comments sections are legion—all from people who see the devil’s work in everything” (140). The word “legion” typically refers to a very large number or a multitude of something, but it is also a biblical reference to the fifth chapter of Mark, which is—very fittingly—a story involving a demon-possessed man. In this story, Jesus speaks directly to the demon within the afflicted man and asks for his name. The demon then replies, “My name is Legion…for we are many” (New International Version, Mark 5:9). After Legion begs to be spared, Jesus allows the demon spirits to leave the man and enter a herd of pigs, who then drown in a nearby lake. With his allusion to this story, Levithan subverts expectations, association the zealous, religious commenters with “Legion,” instead of associating the famous demon’s name with A. In doing this, Levithan suggests that the fanatical internet posters have taken on the energy of the possessed heard of pigs, losing themselves in a frenzied mob mentality and unfairly condemning A.
Throughout Every Day, Levithan returns to this criticism of unfair condemnation. One particularly telling example occurs when A spends the day at a pride parade in the body of a gay host named Hugo. At the parade, A reflects on the homophobic protesters who are harassing the participants:
“One of the protester’s signs catches my eye. Homosexuality is the devil’s work, it says. And once again I think about how people use the devil as an alias for the things they fear. The cause and effect is backward. The devil doesn’t make anyone do anything. People just do things and blame the devil after.” (142)
In this passage, Levithan again criticizes the mentality of the overly zealous, pointing out that their hatred often stems from unfounded fears. Although A is specifically reflecting on the homophobic protesters in these lines, the pronouncements A makes can extend to Nathan as well. After the day A spends occupying Nathan’s body, Nathan is—understandably—very afraid. This leads Nathan to view A as the devil, making A “an alias” for the things he fears, just as A claims the protesters do. With these descriptions, Levithan further elucidates Every Day’s stance on the narrow-minded mentality that can sometimes result from zealousness. Instead of this fear-driven mentality, Every Day argues for the reservation of judgment, using the misunderstood character of A as an example of the ways we can be wrong about the things we fear.
Love and Relationships
One of the central questions in Every Day is whether or not true love can conquer all obstacles. A and Rhiannon face truly unique obstacles to their love. While writing Every Day, Levithan set out to explore what it would be like to be a person who wakes up in a new body each day, but he also set out to explore what it would be like to be the other person in the relationship, the one who must learn to love someone who changes with each new day.
With his exploration of A and Rhiannon’s relationship, Levithan suggests that true love means being able to see beyond physical characteristics to the person within. On several occasions, Rhiannon is able to immediately recognize A, even though A is occupying an unfamiliar host body. On one such occasion, A remarks, “I see her, and she knows exactly who I am. There is no way for her to know this. But she knows” (174). Since A’s appearance is so inconstant, Rhiannon’s love for A must depend on something deeper than physical traits, and her unique ability to see A within several different-looking host bodies exemplifies this. A sees this ability as confirmation of the depth of Rhiannon's feelings, as she has the unique capability to recognize A's soul no matter A's appearance.
Levithan’s depiction of A and Rhiannon’s relationship also establishes that “love means never having to lose your limbs” (222). A makes this statement following a conversation with Rhiannon about Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree. Both A and Rhiannon reject the extreme selflessness and martyrdom of the tree, as well as the inconsiderate selfishness of the boy, agreeing that love cannot mean limitless self-sacrifice. In line with this view, A’s decision to let Rhiannon go at the end of the novel is the ultimate representation of true love. Although A and Rhiannon genuinely care for each other and desperately want to be together, their relationship ultimately involves losing their limbs, as the tree in The Giving Tree loses its branches. In other words, A realizes there is too much sacrifice involved in being with Rhiannon, on both of their parts. Therefore A’s decision to let Rhiannon go for the sake of her happiness and health is the ultimate expression of the kind of love both A and Rhiannon value, the kind that prioritizes the wellbeing of the other person.
Responsibility
Throughout the novel, Levithan portrays A’s strong sense of responsibility toward the various hosts. Before meeting Rhiannon, A consistently puts the needs of the hosts above personal desires, attempting to leave each host’s life entirely unaltered and protected during each 24-hour stay. For example, following a disastrous skiing injury as a child, A always abstains from participating in dangerous sports. After causing this injury, A felt “the fierce, living weight of terrifying guilt” and was “consumed by the knowledge that a stranger was lying in a hospital bed” because of A’s actions (49).
A maintains this level of commitment to the hosts in all areas, also refraining from engaging in romantic entanglements, and from upsetting any relationships in each host’s life, in order to avoid any discomfort for the hosts when they return. While occupying each host’s life, A considers the implications of each action, no matter how small. For example, A avoids letting the hosts’ friends tell A stories during each 24-hour stay, because “they will expect them to be remembered,” and A “cannot guarantee that” (19). A recognizes that it would be “devastating” to “confide in someone and have the confidence disappear” (19). A’s commitment to doing right by both the hosts and their friends in these situations illustrates how deeply responsible A is as a person.
Meeting Rhiannon and attempting a relationship with her, however, ends up challenging A’s commitment to this level of responsibility, which becomes an important obstacle for A to overcome in the novel. One unexpected outcome of A relaxing this commitment to responsibility is the situation with Nathan Daldry. When A decides to ditch Nathan’s life to see Rhiannon at a party in her town, the action sets off a chain of unintended consequences, resulting in Nathan’s public crusade against A. Even as Nathan attempts to take A down, A remarks, “I am responsible for his situation. So he’s become my responsibility” (115). As the situation with Nathan escalates, A realizes this “burden of responsibility” makes A “slower, heavier,” but it also prevents A “from floating away into meaninglessness” (208). Ultimately, A’s fierce commitment to acting responsibly toward each host allows A to find meaning in the strange, inconstant existence of being a disembodied spirit. When A eventually does right by Nathan, this triumph represents Every Day’s stance on A’s moral responsibility toward the hosts.
Attachment/Detachment
Due to the inconsistent nature of A’s existence, A struggles deeply with attachment and detachment. On the one hand, A hesitates to form any attachments to family, friends, or places, as they will inevitably change with each coming day. On the other hand, A longs to experience more meaningful connections, as the detachment that comes along with this type of existence can be lonely and isolating. Throughout the novel, A vacillates between these states of attachment and detachment, a process that becomes ever more difficult as A’s relationship with Rhiannon develops.
Before meeting Rhiannon, A leans more heavily toward a detached life. In the opening pages of the novel, A recounts the experience of craving “friendship and closeness” as a child before quickly realizing the devastating effects of making bonds “without acknowledging how quickly and permanently they would break” (7). After experiencing this pain, A decided “it was too heartbreaking to live with so many separations,” resolving to commit to a life of careful distance and detachment (7). This practiced restraint is comfortable and easy for A at the start of the novel, but everything shifts with the introduction of Rhiannon into A’s life.
When A meets Rhiannon, their immediate connection challenges A’s careful detachment. When Rhiannon asks to meet for lunch, A weighs the costs and benefits of saying yes, a decision which ultimately sets the stage for the rest of the novel:
The easy thing to do would be to say no. I often do this: sense the other person’s life drawing me in, and run in the other direction. But there’s something about her—the cities on her shoes, the flash of bravery, the unnecessary sadness—that makes me want to know what the word will be when it stops being a sound. I have spent years meeting people without ever knowing them, and on this morning, in this place, with this girl, I feel the faintest pull of wanting to know. And in a moment of either weakness or bravery on my part, I decide to follow it. I decide to find out more. (5-6)
With this decision, A begins a complicated journey toward finding a balance between attachment and detachment. As A slowly moves away from the ascetic disconnectedness that previously ruled their existence, A begins to realize how fulfilling it can be to form lasting connections, such as the bond A forms with Rhiannon. With this shift comes many challenges, as each new taste of normalcy leaves A more and more dissatisfied with the loneliness of being a disembodied spirit. Finding the balance between attachment and detachment becomes a major trial for A in the novel, one that has complicated moral and ethical implications.
Defying Norms/Convention
A’s existence as a disembodied spirit makes for an incredibly unconventional life. While writing Every Day, Levithan sought to explore what it would be like to exist outside the norms that typically define human life, such as sex, gender, race, community, and physical appearance. Each of these traits changes daily for A, forcing A to navigate the world in an unconventional way. Although this type of existence can be challenging, A also appreciates the positive aspects that come along with it:
I am a drifter, and as lonely as that can be, it is also remarkably freeing. I will never define myself in terms of anyone else. I will never feel the pressure of peers or the burden of parental expectation. I can view everyone as pieces of a while, and focus on the whole, not the pieces. I have learned how to observe, far better than most people observe. I am not blinded by the past or motivated by the future. I focus on the present, because that is where I am destined to live. (7)
With Every Day, Levithan suggests that freedom from norms can lead to a broader perspective and a more expansive experience. Although A’s condition as a disembodied spirit can be very lonely, it also leads to an enhanced “sense of what life is really like” (107). When Rhiannon expresses sympathy for the isolation of A’s situation, A explains that “by seeing the world from so many angles,” it is possible to “get more of a sense of its dimensionality” (107). For A, the effect of this broadened perspective is increased empathy, a defining trait that A exhibits throughout the novel.
Although this divergence from norms has positive effects on A’s character as an individual, the unconventional nature of a relationship with A proves to be very difficult for Rhiannon. This ultimately leads to Rhiannon’s decision to end the relationship, as she realizes “there are just so many things [they] can’t do,” such as spending time with Rhiannon’s friends, or meeting Rhiannon’s parents (278). Ultimately, Every Day serves as an exploration of the ways in which defying norms can be both freeing and isolating, and Levithan consistently portrays both the positive and negative aspects of leading an unconventional life.
