I’ve been sitting on my bed for two days now, my left leg propped up on two pillows, recovering from arthroscopic knee surgery. Yesterday, I decided that, since I have two weeks off of work, it’s prime time to burn through a fraction of the stack of books I have sitting on my shelf waiting to be discovered.
My best friend recommended The Fault in Our Stars by John Green some time ago and I bought that along with Looking for Alaska about a month ago.
I began The Fault in Our Stars yesterday afternoon, and while it was a relatively easy read, I had to put it down before the final 100 pages, What the hell had I gotten myself into? I had teared up twice before I put it down and about four more times when I finished it today.
My gods, what a roller coaster of pain, sadness, depression, grief, and beauty. It’s clearly a modern tragedy written in a style to appease and relate to the modern teenager, but it was still a decent read, and getting me to shed a tear is a big deal.
But it’s one of those books that you need to prepare yourself to be depressed after, just warning you.
Green is an excellent author, though. I’m debating on whether or not to delve into Looking for Alaska now or go for a fantasy novel to give myself a break from tireless teenage-type emotions.
I wouldn’t call The Fault in Our Stars a masterpiece or genius by any means, really. The thing that it does is really understand the struggle with grief and the struggle with consciousness and reality.
I wouldn’t recommend it to everyone, but if you want to put yourself through some hard times and come out on the other side less damaged than Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Jose Saramago would leave you then go for it!
I don’t see how they’ll make it into a movie though, the majority of the story is Hazel’s thoughts, not the action of the plot that would be portrayed on screen, good luck Hollywood.