#1: The Fault in Our Stars by John Green
I really liked this book. As soon as I finished it, I loaned it to one of my housemates. And she returned it to me two days later, still wiping away tears. To quote John Green, this book made her “feel all the things.”
And while I also felt all the things, I didn’t have the same visceral response. I’m not a crier. (The last time text made me cry, I was reading Tennessee Williams’ “Suddenly, Last Summer” as I rode the T over the Charles River. That was over a year ago.) I’m not discrediting my reading experience. I’m just putting out a warning. You may cry, you may not.
I’m not going to give anything away in this review; I’m well aware of the following that this book has. (I’m a proud Nerdfighter myself.) But I will say that John Green won me over with his use of the unlit cigarette. As a playwright, I have been accidentally utilizing variations on the unlit cigarette for a few years. (Unconventional use of the cigarette has shown up in three of my plays so far.) The idea that this 18-year-old boy walks around with an unlit cigarette in his mouth to prove that his has some control over his own death is just a beautiful image. I’d love to sit John Green down and talk to him about the various ways I’ve used unlit cigarettes in my own writing, to discuss the accidental and purposeful uses of this metaphor. What do you say, John?
And yes, this book is marketed toward young adults. And yes, I’m an adult. But I really don’t care what you think. John Green, David Levithan, and Libba Bray are champions of the genre; their writing is sharp and intelligent and so anti- the paranormal vampire bullshit of the quote-unquote mainstream quote-unquote young adult sector. Do yourself a favor. Read The Fault in Our Stars.
