Friday, January 31, 2014

The Fault in Our Stars: Redux

I don't often re-read books, but I think it can certainly be a valuable practice. Some books have such a special feel that it's impossible to find something that quite compares, and re-reading that book is the only way to get the magic back. I've re-read Harry Potter, The Hobbit, To Kill a Mockingbird, and The Book Thief, and had excellent results with all of them. Re-reading provides you with new insights into a book, and occasionally reveals to yourself how you've changed as a person.

As some of you know I was an enormous fan of John Green's latest novel when I read it the first time. When I started re-reading TFiOS I was motivated almost entirely by a desire to rekindle some of that magic that I felt during my first reading of the novel. A secondary motivation, however, was also present. I know a few people (not many) who think this book is super overrated, and I wanted to read it with a critical eye in order to prove to myself that these critics were indeed on crack, and that I was completely correct in hailing this novel as one of the finest I've read in the past three years. So how did TFiOS bear up under my increased scrutiny? Was I able to recapture the magnificence of the first reading? Did I independently determine its timeless literary merit in the face of countless (one) detractors?

Basically the answer to both of the above questions is yes...and no. I found it easy to engage in the story, just as I had the first time. I still found the characters likable and the emotions accessible and real. It still tugged at my heartstrings, made me smile, and kept me up later than I'd have liked. However, some of the magic was gone for me. I enjoyed it, but I didn't fall in love with it all over again. This brings me to my second point: the book's literary merit. On the second reading I was freed of the tension of finding out what happens next. Some of the emotional cachet was gone for me, so I had more mental resources to put into looking at the book as an actual work of literature and not just a vehicle for visceral emotional reactions. What I discovered was slightly troubling, though in retrospect not unexpected. As a work of literature the book is decent. The themes aren't subtle, the characters are a bit exaggerated, and the writing feels a little stale after a while. The dialogue between the characters feels somewhat unnatural as well, which is a claim I'd heard from others that I hadn't given any credence to in the past. I've spent enough time with teenagers by now to realize, however, that no sixteen year-old has the term "toe-specific dysmorphia" in her lexicon. These issues essentially amount to a few literary quibbles. They don't make it a bad book, but I think they do keep it from being a truly great book. The story is still lovely, the messages are interesting and thought-provoking, and the emotions the book elicits are valuable and cathartic, but I'm not sure this book deserves a plinth in the pantheon of Greatest Books Ever. It's a book that is deserving of the elevated position it currently holds, but which will likely not withstand the test of time in the way the true greats have and will. If you haven't read it already, I still give it a strong recommendation. If you've already read it once, it might be better to enjoy the memories.

Redux Rating: 8.5/10

1 comment:

  1. Interesting thoughts. You should know that I am not the only critic of TFIOS. There are negative reviews on Goodreads with hundreds of comments from people voicing their agreement. On my review, where I called it "the worst novel I have ever read," I currently have nine "likes", and three comments from people who liked my review...and I'm just small-time.
    I think your revisited review is fair, but I also think that your appreciation of the novel is still largely influenced by your initial experience. I've noticed that some people (myself included), seem to be much more able to examine a work critically on their first experience, rather than experiencing it purely for entertainment. I do this with movies too. Remember when we saw The Dark Knight Rises? Most people who saw it for the first time raved about how awesome it was, but then started to see its flaws on repeat viewings. I saw it's flaws the very first (and only) time I saw it.
    What I am driving at is that for people who are in the habit of looking at a work critically the first time, all of the minor flaws you pointed out, such as the exaggerated characters, the stale writing, the unnatural dialog, serve to put up an emotional wall. Because I immediately saw the characters as exaggerated and unnatural, I found them to be completely unrelatable, and therefor was never able to form any kind of emotional connection to them, or the story in general. Basically for us critical thinkers, it falls completely flat. We might as well be reading a pamphlet on the social side-effects of being a cancer patient.
    So my belief about this book is that readers will fall into one of two camps. People who are inclined to view a work purely on an emotional level, or get swept up in the thrill of an unfamiliar story, will probably like it. People who examine works critically and ask questions throughout, will probably hate it.
    In my experience in talking to fans of TFIOS, it seems like everyone is well aware of John Green's "unconventional" style choices, but they feel that those choices are validated by their emotional response to the writing. They subscribe to the idea that you can get away with less formal writing in YA lit, or that grammar is an art rather than a science. For those of us who didn't have an emotional response to the book, for whatever reason, those style choices just look like bad writing. It's almost a case of the ends justifying the means, or rather the end result justifying the validity of the means.
    FYI, I still plan to re-read this book and try to look at it with a more emotional eye, taking into account what I have learned about John Green's inspiration for the book. I also plan on seeing the movie.

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