I love John Green, and I think he’s a great writer. I just don’t think his books are that great. This is my second by him, and once again I’m left underwhelmed. I feel like he takes cheap shots at tearjerkers, and I just can’t stand that.
For the length of this book, it took me way too long to finish. I’m guessing that’s because I felt no connection to the story or the characters… preferring to do other things instead. To be fair, it’s also been a crazy week…
In this book, we follow from a 16 year old boy’s perspective as he tries to navigate the minefield of teenage angst. Alaska is the manic-pixie-dreamgirl his life starts to revolve around, and while I like her passion and point of view most of the time, she is angsty, depressing and bitchy. Pudge is kind of a weirdo too… He collects famous last words and I’m pretty sure he was way too mature and not enough obsessed with sex for his age…
Disaster strikes (not what I was expecting to happen, though in hindsight I should have guessed), and we’re left with a couple of teens trying to make sense of life and it’s purpose… or lack thereof.
I guess this officially means I’m getting old, because I know for a fact I would have adored Alaska and wanted to have been just like her when I was 16. I would have gotten her. Now I could barely bring myself to care and found myself rolling my eyes at her dramatics. I wonder what it is that makes people grow out of that teenage angst phase… I sure as he’ll don’t think it’s because you figure out what you’re supposed to be and do, because I still don’t know… but thank God I grew out of it, because it was horrible.
Anyway, while this book didn’t blow my mind or leave me with a lasting heartache, it was a decent read and John’s writing made it worth it in the end. I probably won’t pick up any of his other work, but I still like him, and if he writes an adult novel I might consider that.