On a whim I brought the treasure that is
The Fault in Our Stars by John Green. I don't know what it was, maybe it was the undecided weather that fuelled my spontaneity. Or my desire for a collection of books that'll one day line my walls. Either way, it ended up in my basket and I've never been more grateful for an author to write such truly beautiful words.
I don't want to talk about the story or the ending or whatever because that's already been written, I want to talk about its effect on me which I feel I need to vent. maybe not vent, maybe 'share' is a better word?
Unexpectedly, I invested so much in the characters. I wanted to simultaneously be them, and not be them, for very obvious reasons which you'll discover when you read the book. They were beyond small talk and silly conversations, and spoke with intelligence and personality beyond their confines of 'faults'.The unity and spirit, and also the unexpected turn of events, showed the unconditional emotional support and protection we try and offer one another and yet fail to out manoeuvre the inevitable - 'oblivion'. I liked that reminder, it's how my mind works and how I think.
Tears I shed - on numerous occasions - was not a pitiful affair, but more of a genuine sense of identification and love. Dammit, John Green, how have you fashioned such a convincing set of characters? Maybe my tears were because I thought I knew the story before I'd finished it; making assumptions on the first few pages or drawn similarities between the sub-plot and main plot line. I don't know, but I felt an overwhelming sadness which has left me in a lull in my own existence. Pondering.
I was left concerned about the things that are most important to me. I thought about unity, the fragility of life and love. It's a strange thing, well, not anything in particular in that list but all of them, individually - I think about them often but separately. The Fault In Our Stars seeming brought them together all at once in a kind of upheaval of emotion.
However, that may have been due to the time frame I read it in: a 5 hour bath. It wasn't intentional I just couldn't stop my self, I didn't want to let go and be in the real world whilst I was so absorbed in Hazel's. It's pretty rare that I start something and actually have the motivation and desire to complete it; especially as the majority of books that I own and have read cover to cover have had to be forced for educational purposes - would you have believed I was an English A Level student?!
But, being a -former- English student I'm a real sucker for descriptive embellishment, its why I liked Dorian Gray, and Green is the embodiment of perfection in this. Sometimes I walk though places and think like the way he writes, for example: on my walk home from work though woods. I want John Green to document that for me. Maybe I'll write him a letter with a request.
Without sounding ridiculously cliché I just want to scream, 'READ THIS BOOK!' to everyone I know. It's a bitter sweet heartbreak and beautiful is too tame a word for it.
Ps. I owe it to Konnie for her recommendation. I don't know whether she'll read this post but I hope she knows she's shaped my life by just chatting to me in psychology one time about 'some book' she read and was going to lend me. I beat you to it, girl. And thanks, big time.
