Can It Really Be 'More Than This'?

I've always tried to not be too influenced by what other people say. But when the front cover of Patrick Ness' 'More Than This' had a comment by John Green saying "Just read it", it steered my eyes towards it like a rocket. I'm a nerdfighter and I am partial to a little of both of the Green brothers, and, despite my questionably positive reviews of both of John's books that I have reviewed so far, we do seem to have a similar taste in literature. So, putting aside my feelings for its minimalist yet somehow garishly yellow cover, I picked it up and gave it a go.

I'll be brutally. honest, this book is not a quick starter. If you're one who needs immediate action or dialogue, I would skip to part two, as aside from the boy's death (it's not a spoiler if it's in the blurb), the beginning feels, in places, a little more Bear Grylls than what is the deeper purpose of all this. Do not, however, hold this against it. The opening chapters are at least slow on purpose, as, if our protagonist suddenly remembered everything and acquired immaculate survival skills without any struggle or vomiting, I would have a lot more problems with the opening. Alongside this, the rest of the novel is very pacey, dramatic, bang-bang action, and without this calm before the storm, I feel it would develop skim-read syndrome, a disease suffered by books with so much plot that the reader skim reads just to find out what happens next. Ness has this beautiful balance with his story, as elegantly placed as a grain of sand to two feathers on a scale, and yes if you're not into slow starters you might struggle a bit, but I promise the end result is worth it.

My problem reviewing this book is reviewing without spoilers. So much of this novel's foundations are laid in layer after layer of surprise, with plot twists that even I, a seasoned cynic and story-spoiler, couldn't guess. Ness' other real strength in this book is his perfectly un-beautiful character creation. I have said before and I shall shout it from the highest hills: YA does not need more Mary Sue, perfect protagonists, what it needs is believable people. Whether they are a likeable person to the reader or not, they should be real characters, real personalities, real emotion underneath their printed paper skins. Everything about the main character of 'More Than This' felt real, his selfishness, his loss, his anger, his guilt and, above all, his desperation and conundrum as to whether he is alive or dead. 

A lot of the time, people have a tendency to pigeon hole YA to not a 'serious' subject material, reducing it down to the 'Twilight's of this world. 'More Than This' wipes this theory off the face of the planet. Taking such a heavy subject matter and handling it so beautifully is the greatest skill of Patrick Ness' novel and it is definitely worth a read, albeit only if you're sure you have existential-crisis-proof hat on.

I Found Something When I Was 'Looking For Alaska'

Today, I review the infamous 'Looking For Alaska' by John Green, and this is one novel where I really struggle as to where to begin. Part of this is because I know how popular it is and I feel afraid a lynching is a'coming if I criticise it, but it is more than that. On the one hand it is exactly the Bildungsroman I expected it to be from reviews, a relatively neutral protagonist, struggling towards a more exciting "Great Perhaps", and eventually succeeds. However, on the other hand, this book really surprised me, and impressed me with its honest and relatively complex characters and it was nothing like I expected. You see my dilemma.

              I'll start with the controversial stuff today. See if you follow my thinking on this one: I liked the book. I really enjoyed reading it, and I found it gripping and tragic and heart wrenching. But I think I liked Alaska dead more than Alaska alive. Now before you begin with "Ah yes, this is exactly how Miles felt, see you prefer her idealised form", no. I preferred Alaska dead because she was a "hurricane" and hurricanes destroy everything they touch. I found Alaska quite unlikable to be honest, but this was in part because the other characters were created so well, and also in a way that made them so likeable. This didn't mean Alaska was badly constructed (on the contrary, in my opinion) but it's a simple truth: you don't like characters who hurt your favourite characters and for me, that was a lot of Alaska's personality. The other part of her, which I was equally unmoved by and not fond of, was her endless sweeping statements and her brooding and moody attitude ("I smoke to die" was one I had a real distaste for). Regular readers may remember that this was the one of the only problems I could find with TFIOS, but I did excuse it as dying teenagers deserve to express their drama and feelings however they wish (oversimplification but you’ll catch my drift if you’ve read the previous review). But Alaska came off as more shallow from this, and even her backstory felt to be part of her cliché. I sound harsh, but I will say, amidst all my disinterest in Alaska, I found something in John Green's writing that was a true credit to him: creating a character I didn't exceptionally hate, but did not like, and make me believe they could be real.

One of the true masterstrokes of 'Looking For Alaska' was its view of teenage society and the values that exist in it. The protagonist is not particularly popular but he is also not disliked by his peers. He is simple an average boy, something that is all too rare in YA. I do get a little bored of reading how secretly special someone is after a while, and part of this is that it dismisses any person without this specialness as a character who is not important enough to be a hero. Something I actually adored about Miles' character was his frank nature towards his strengths and weaknesses, and that he never became polarised, becoming neither a dream-boat prince or a friendless loser. His humanness let him act as a perfect reflector and refractor for what was going on around him. Not just the tragedy either, no, the comedy was also put through his lens, and this allowed John Green to, not only immerse, but integrate his reader in his setting, which really helped when trying to (as fully as possible) understand some of the characters. More than anything though, this novel helps explain a very adult subject through a really fantastic perspective, demonstrating how teenagers discover the difference between adult things and adult life.

To conclude and to simply say how much I liked the book would not really be doing it the justice I think I would like to. It is exactly what a Bildungsroman should be, reminding me distinctly of 'The Catcher in the Rye' (a favourite of mine), but it brings the idea forward to a modern view of teenage life that I really enjoyed, despite my dislike of Alaska. Oddly enough, it often felt like she wasn't what I was really looking for -swans away in a cloud of cliché-.

REWIND: The Fault In Our Stars by John Green

Rewind is a new thing I wanted to start here, in which I review books which I have re-read rather than read for the first time. Re-reading a novel is a weird experience that I know a lot of people can't always enjoy. Despite my endless enthusiasm for reading a book again and again and again, I know it is not everyone's cup of loose leaf peach and raspberry (I've always been a tea snob). I have thought about re-reading 'The Fault In Our Stars' since I read it about a year ago, and I have to be honest, it is undoubtedly still loved, but put into a little perspective after its initial assault on the feels has already been had, which drew out, for me, even more questions (and answers) about within the novel

Firstly, I began to question Hazel and Augustus' relationship a lot more (though to be fair to John Green's character construction, this was more to do with a lot of other people's quibbles with it, and I was worried I may have not noticed its lesser points initially). Oddly enough, when taking a close examination of Gus and Hazel's love, I actually enjoyed it even more. It felt comfortable but not predictable as a re-read, which I always believe to be a good sign, and I felt myself noticing the finer details of it even more. Hazel's realism of the relationship, of herself as a time bomb, did feel overdramatic at points, although, to be honest, if I was a teenager suffering from cancer, I can't exactly say that I'd be any less emotional and generally human.

This really brings me to my next point about TFIOS, and it is something I've raised before on A Midsummer Review, and that is that is portrays teenagers as teenagers. They act cliché and overly romantic, of course they do, they're teenagers, and they attempt to form themselves into individuals in a world, which is hard enough normally, but particularly in a world that tries to form them all to the "sick kid" stereotype. A lot of people have said Gus' cigarette idea is stupid and ridiculous, but what it sounded like to me? What it sounded like to me was the work of an actual teenager, trying to take a grown up and artistic take on a situation that is truly awful. 

The artisan nature of the novel is pretty clear from an initial reading, but a second attempt really drives it home. Many a friend of mine will tell you, I am not a fan of some of Oscar Wilde's work, simply because some of it feels as though it is written in the hope of being quoted, which I always find quite unsettling, as it feels an author attempts to hold the book to the quotes standard, rather than vica versa. TFIOS, as much as I loved it, did reach into this territory at points, and I felt this is likely the product of writing teenagers. It's hard to make omelette without throwing in a few wistful and too-deep-for-you phrases as it were- actually wait, I think my metaphors got mixed. 

All in all, a re-read of this proves to me that TFIOS holds it's ground even when a more critical eye is searching over it. I think this book is just as enjoyable on second reading, if not even more, as John Green's shining style for writing YA beams through.