The Fault in Our Stars (John Green) Conclusion

Gus’s condition deteriorates rapidly.  The next thing we know, he’s spending all his time in a wheelchair.  His Mom and Dad are devastated (“His parents were quiet, watching him, never looking away, like they just wanted to enjoy the Gus Waters show while it was still in town”).  He’s not taking it so well, himself (“I found him mumbling in a language of his own creation.  He’d pissed the bed.  It was awful.  I couldn’t even look really … ‘With each passing minute, I’m developing a deeper appreciation of the word mortified,’ he said finally”).

One of the most dramatic events of the story is the middle-of-the-night phone call from Gus at the gas station.  We relate to Gus’s feelings of inadequacy, and how he could make the mistake of sneaking out of the house at night to feel more self-sufficient.  But his quest for self-sufficiency in a fresh pack of never-to-be-lit cigarettes turns into a nightmare for him and the only person he trusts not to humiliate him even more; Hazel.  She immediately sees that the only real solution to the crisis is to call an ambulance, however, so his hopes of a hasty cover-up are dashed.  (“He came home from the hospital a few days later, finally and irrevocably robbed of his ambitions.”)

The parents, both Hazel’s and Gus’s, are major satellites in this drama, brought into orbit just close enough for realism, just distant enough to keep the focus tightly trained on the teenagers.  The dialog that does come from the adults is convincing and often resonates acutely (“ ‘Okay, enough,’ Gus’s dad said, and then out of nowhere, his dad put an arm around me and kissed the side of my head and whispered, ‘I thank God for you every day, kid.’ ”) Both sets of parents show a lot more leniency toward this teenage romance than they normally might, understanding that  not only is it genuine, it is likely the only romantic love that either teenager will experience in their short lives.

Yes, on one level this book is a classic Teenage Girl’s Tear-jerker.  But the tears are undeniably justified, the anguish directed at a very real monster in many people’s lives.  Sure, these characters are larger than life, so much more likeable and admirable than real people, real cancer victims with all their imperfections, so it’s a lot easier to “feel their pain.”  But that is what fiction does, or what it should do; it shows people and shows our world as they ought to be seen, stripped of all the irrelevant details and side issues about which we tend to be so judgmental.  With that in mind, this book becomes so much more than a tear-jerker.  It brings the reader closer to reality in much the same way that a cancer victim is brought closer to the reality of death and therefore, life.  The reader leaves this book after the last page feeling as if he or she has gained something, and I believe that closer-to-reality awareness is it. 

Peter Van Houton’s role in all this has been like a little mini-mystery in this book until Hazel finally has a flash of insight into the nature of his demons, including his alcoholism.  It almost seems that he wants her to figure it out for herself without his help.  When she does, she hates him less, but pities him more, which is probably worse.  She drops him off curbside at the end of their last meeting (“He sat down on the curb behind the car.  As I watched him shrink in the rearview mirror, he pulled out the bottle and for a second it looked like he would leave it on the curb.  And then he took a swig.”)






February’s book of the month; “Hide and Seek,” by Ian Rankin

At night the summer sky stays light over Edinburgh, Scotland. But in a shadowy, crumbling housing development, a junkie lies dead of an overdose, his bruised body surrounded by signs of Satanic worship. John Rebus could call the death an accident - but won't. Instead, he tracks down a violent-tempered young woman who knew the dead boy and heard him cry out his terrifying last words: "Hide! Hide!" Now, with the help of a bright, conflicted young detective, Rebus is following the girl through a brutal world of bad deals, bad dope and bad company. From a beautiful city's darkest side to the private sanctums of the upper crust, Rebus is seeking the perfect hiding place for a killer…

The first segment will be: "Intro," "Monday" and "Tuesday," aiming at February 7th!

 

The Fault in Our Stars (John Green) Chapters 11-15

At this point in the story we begin to see that, yes indeed, after all, this is a “chick flick” kind of book.  Not that “chick flicks” are all that bad.  Even “Mama Mia” had its good points from a male perspective – if you mute the sound during Pierce Brosnan’s singing…  Did John Green pull a fast one here? Suckering the guys into a really cool story before going all teary-eyed on us?  I’m sure there are guys who will feel that way.  But by now, we care enough about the characters not to put the book down unfinished.  It is still, page by page, a real pleasure to read.  Did I get teary-eyed myself?  HA!  Well, okay, maybe a little…

The scenery in Amsterdam is depicted with just enough description to give us a little mini-vacation of the mind, without going into too much detail.  We all wanted to go there anyway, just more so now.  The cabbie really nails it.  (“Amsterdam is like the rings of a tree: It gets older as you get closer to the center.”  And, “Our city has a rich history, even though many tourists are only wanting to see the Red Light District.”  He paused.  “Some tourists think Amsterdam is a city of sin, but in truth it is a city of freedom.  And in freedom, most people find sin.”  Nicely phrased, as Gus and Hazel’s dad would say.

Later, at home, Hazel and Gus reminisce over a dinner prepared by Gus’s mom.  (Gus, swallowing a bite:  “You know, the primary taste I’m getting is not-Oranjee.”  Me:  “It does not taste like God Himself cooked heaven into a series of five dishes which were then served to you accompanied by several luminous balls of fermented, bubbly plasma while actual and literal flower petals floated down all around your canal-side dinner table.”  Gus:  “Nicely phrased.”  Gus’s father:  “Our children are weird.”  My dad:  “Nicely phrased.”)

But this section is really about two major events:  the meeting with Van Houten, and the rather sudden nosedive of Gus’s health as cancer attacks him again with a vengeance.  The fact that the meeting with the idolized author of their favorite book turns into a confrontation with a disillusioned drunk illustrates perfectly one of the essential phrases that the teenagers use to each other; “Apparently the world is not a wish-granting factory.”  After escaping from the lair of this madman, they go to see the Anne Frank Huis, as his assistant puts it; the scene of the famous story of the Diary of Anne Frank.   This is expertly described, along with the teenagers having to surmount a lot of rather steep stairs – a major undertaking for Hazel with her oxygen tank and “crap lungs” and the beginning of the revelation of Gus’s condition.  Overcome with emotion, they have their first really passionate kiss, only to discover themselves surrounded by the on-looking tour guests.  Hazel thinks they’ll all be outraged at the choice of venue for such passion, but at the end, the “audience” roundly applauds and shouts.  These are, after all, Europeans!  Great scene.

But now we have to witness Gus deteriorating under the influence of some fancy experimental drugs.  He hates being pitied as much as Hazel, as much as any cancer victim.  Partly to keep his own spirits up, he takes now-blind Isaac to the house of the girl who dumped him and directs him in throwing eggs at her car.  Near the end, the girl’s mother opens the front door, aghast, but Gus has great presence of mind.  (“Ma’am … your daughter’s car has just been deservedly egged by a blind man.  Please close the door and go back inside or we’ll be forced to call the police.”)  Priceless.





Next week:  Conclusion

The Fault in Our Stars (John Green) Chapters 6-10

FM:  This segment takes us from the point in the story where Hazel finds out that she has been invited to Amsterdam with Gus to the point where they are about to touch down in Amsterdam.  On the surface, it would appear that not much drama has happened in 64 pages of text in terms of plot (one notable exception being the mysterious argument between Gus and his mom before his departure for the trip.) Mostly, it has been character development.  This brings up the question:  Is this primarily a “girl’s book”?  The Twilight series has certainly been derogatorily accused of that, and so has the Sookie Stackhouse series (“True Blood”) by Charlaine Harris.  Even “The Hunger Games” has not been immune.  Is there just not enough “Action” in this story to hold the interest of a typical teenage boy?

CJ:  The mystery around the argument inside Gus' home prior to leaving is an intriguing cliff hanger, part of what pushed me to read on to the end.

FM:  This question is interestingly addressed in chapter 10, with Gus being absolutely enthralled by the blood-fest Spartan-vs-Persian movie shown on the airplane while Hazel mostly observes him.  (‘I took my head off his shoulder for a moment to get a break from the gore and watched Augustus watch the movie.  He couldn’t contain his goofy grin … even though the good guys had just lost, Augustus seemed downright joyful.   “…how many fictional people died in that fictional movie?  Not enough,” he joked.’)  So, are teenage boys really so shallow that a book with the kind of depth that this one contains bores them?  Is John Green intentionally “writing for girls” here, or just focused on creating the best story possible (with admirable success, I might add!)?  I think the answer to these questions, as usual in questions of this nature, is somewhere between Yes and No.

CJ:  Green did a good job conveying Gus' first experience of flying. The reader can almost see the sheer excitement in his face (and be reminded of their own first flight).

FM:  The problem with the typical teenage boy is that he’s so typical! (And, yes, I write as one who used to be a teenage boy!)  The whole insidious “reading is for sissies [or for girls]” idea is part of a much deeper social ill. [Soap box alert!]  Anti-intellectualism – or just intellectual laziness – is a problem that is not new, but seems to be on the rise currently.  Those who embrace it are grooming themselves to be Lower Class – the very ones who will be rioting for their “rights” – the advantages of being Upper Class – a decade or two from now; rioting for Equality between those who prepared themselves for Success and those who prepared themselves for Failure.  The young people who are reading books like “The Fault in Our Stars” are the ones who are preparing for Success, and I applaud them. “Readers are Leaders.”  I just hope it isn’t only the girls!

 CJ:  Applause for the soapbox!!! As one who was once a teenage girl, I find this piece occasionally on the sappy side, but then I don't think I was a typical teenage girl. I don't think either of my teen boys would find the story engaging simply because their character is not deeply nurturing and they don't have a life experience that would draw them to the story. Maybe I'm wrong, but I see this one ending up in the "girl" category.

FM:  One of the deeper messages that Green is conveying here is an understanding and empathy with people afflicted by major health issues, cancer in particular.  People do stare.  (‘I could feel everybody watching us, wondering what was wrong with us, and whether it would kill us, and how heroic my mom must be, and everything else … he said, “Listen, sorry I avoided the gate area.  The MacDonald’s line wasn’t really that long; I just … I just didn’t want to sit there with all those people looking at us or whatever.”  “ At me, mostly,” I said.  You could glance at Gus and never know he’d been sick, but I carried my disease on the outside, which is part of why I’d become a homebody in the first place.’)

CJ:  I do agree that there is much more to this book than a love story. It helps those of us on the "staring" side to have some insight into the thoughts that go on in the minds of those who are fully aware they are under the looking glass.

FM:  As for the “Action” in this section of the plot, it mostly revolves around whether Hazel will get to go on the Amsterdam trip after all, or whether the flaring of her health issues will prevent it.  With her, we get a real scare when her devastating headache seems to indicate more cancer; but even when it turns out to be a side-effect of her existing condition, we are left in doubt about the trip.  We really are left wondering at that point in the story whether the plot will contain scenes in Amsterdam or the crushing disappointment – for her – of not getting her Wish.  And yes, thanks to John Green’s mastery of his craft, it does mean something to the reader!

 

Next week:  Chapters 11-15

 

 

The Fault in Our Stars (John Green) Chapters 1-5

FM:  Three pages into this book, I was already hooked on John Green’s style.  I knew, of course, from the outset that I was reading what was supposed to be a prime example of what the so-called “Young Adult Fiction” genre has to offer.  So I was a bit surprised at the reference to a young man’s “nuts” and “I gotta outlast four of these bastards.”  Yes, I have read plenty of books with much stronger language; I’m not the least bit squeamish about that.  But in a YA book?  I also recalled the highly intelligent and mild-mannered young lady who first recommended this author to me (she must have been 13 or 14 years old at the time) and the fact that I knew that if she liked his writing, I most likely would, too.

CJ:  Interesting, I too work with teenagers and have 2 teenagers in the home and actually I found the language in the "normal" range. The first person narrative lends itself to a teenager just talking, not necessarily to adults, but maybe to peers. Also, when you consider the lot these kids have been dealt I think the language may have been a little of the light side. The setting of Amsterdam seemed totally appropriate, the characters had just a little time to experience a lifetime of living.

FM:  The acerbic teenage wit here hits the bull’s eye with me as well.  The fact that I would read a YA book is not strange to those who know me; I thoroughly enjoyed the Twilight series (if you look down your nose at that, I’m sorry you don’t get it…) and absolutely loved the Hunger Games books.  At first blush, this book looks as if it will be as rewarding as those.  The relationship that springs up between Hazel and Gus is described with an acute knowledge of how teenagers relate.  I suspect that the author was once a teenager himself - but more importantly, one that hasn’t forgotten the “teenager feeling” once he grew up.  It’s mostly described through conversation, which is the best way to describe a teenager’s world, but in this case it’s described through the lens of teenagers with life-threatening health issues resulting from cancer, and the extra dose of wisdom that brings.  This includes an impressive handling of the details of what it’s like to live with cancer, explained in that almost detached way that real cancer victims often do.

CJ:  Honestly after reading the synopsis I did not want to read this book. I lost a dear friend to leukemia as a teenager and I have done a good job ignoring that wound for 30 plus years. However, I decided to give it a chance and ended up not being able to put it down. I finished the book in just 3 evenings.

FM:  Some writers handle the He-said-She-said problem better than others.  That’s the extra verbiage in written conversation that indicates which character says what.  It can be distracting if the author uses the simple, “said Harry” tag too often, and even more so if the author tries to add too much “Amy said smirkily/jauntily/whimsically” et cetera.  Really creative authors contrive different ways to handle this which add to the scene without distracting.  (“’You don’t want to go to a movie with Kaitlyn or Matt or someone?” who were my friends.  That was an idea.  “Sure,” I said.’  Or: ‘”It’s Thursday, March twenty-ninth!” she basically screamed, a demented smile plastered to her face.”)   Weaving the story into the He-said-She-said problem can add a lot to the narrative, and Green uses it as a device to develop the characters; especially the wonderful first-person narrator, Hazel.

CJ:  I like Hazel's persona in that she doesn't like playing the part of a professional sick person and is trying to take as few casualties with her as possible. This kind of heroine is needed in today's world of narcissistic teenagers. Like her counterpart in the Hunger Games she sacrifices self for the good of the community. She's a refreshing character in a world full of spoiled brat Toddler's in Tiaras, etc.

FM:  I think this is the first time I have ever seen “I know, right?” in print, though I have heard it thousands of times.  (Yes, in my vocation, I deal with teenagers regularly – part of my excuse for reading YA books, if I need one!)  As I have mentioned before, writing in first person gives the author a convenient out for all kinds of inaccuracies.  Awkward grammar?  Plot inconsistency?  Hey, it’s the character talking, not me!  The author can simply claim that he meant to show the character’s weakness or lack of memory.  But here, John Green is using the first person technique to display a deep understanding of how today’s teenagers talk; and in turn, an insight into how they think.  (It has been theorized that, without having developed speech, man would not have developed organized thought and would be “just another” primate, on a level with the gorilla and the chimp.)  Presumably, we should be able to discern a lot about how someone thinks by listening to how they speak.   The character of Gus, for instance, is developed largely through his dialog.

CJ:  When we first met Gus I worried that he would be an arrogant character that used Isaac as a sort of "puppy" to meet vulnerable females. I was relieved to see him turn out as a real person who understood and sympathized with his friends.

FM:  Green eases into the first major plot development cleverly.  (‘”Do you have a Wish?” he asked, referring to this organization, The Genie Foundation, which is in the business of granting sick kids one wish.  “No,” I said.  “I used my Wish pre-Miracle.”  “What’d you do?”  I sighed loudly.  “I was thirteen,” I said.  “Not Disney,” he said.  I said nothing.  “You did not go to Disney World.”  I said nothing.  “Hazel GRACE!” he shouted.  “You did not use your one dying Wish to go to Disney World with your parents.”  “Also Epcot Center,” I mumbled.  “Oh, my God,” Augustus said.  “I can’t believe I have a crush on a girl with such cliché wishes.”  “I was thirteen,” I said again…’) Just superb dialog.  And of course, this ultimately leads to his use of his Wish to take both of them to Amsterdam to see her favorite author.

CJ: The Genie's and the Wish scenario was great! How many children have been in this situation and used their wishes for Disney? Green helps us to realize that in the big scheme, though I personally think everyone should go there once, Disney is not the be-all-to-end-all. I hope that this dialogue is read by and helps kids and parents who have to make this horrible choice of a last wish stop and think really hard about their decision.

Next week:  Chapters 6-10