First of all, spoilers.
I am in such deep, fantastical, heartbreaking love with Looking for Alaska. I've never fallen so hard for a book. I was sixteen when I first read it. It was a case of right book, right time. There is no better period in my life that I could have fallen for something.
I read Paper Towns and Will Grayson, Will Grayson and An Abundance of Katherines and never fell as hard. I still carry a lot of admiration for Margo Roth Spiegelman who I'd like to revisit as a feminist and explore just exactly how much of a female enigma she really is.
Two months ago I found the time to really get my teeth into The Fault in Our Stars. I devoured it in two sittings over the course of 48 hours.
It's hard to objectively analyse a text once you're aware of its reputation and enamoured with the author's previous work. It's hard not to let your expectations get in the way of your reading.
With those ideas in mind: my overwhelming feeling is one of disappointment.
It felt like a carbon copy of LfA.
The protagonist is a loner struggling with the social interaction required of teenagers. A character dies (arguably unexpectedly) midway through the narrative. It ends on a letter.
I felt like the parallels are too much. Is this some kind of teen fiction formula? Is it Nicholas Sparks for 11-19 year olds? I just couldn't buy it.
The "okay" thing was cheesy and forced and I didn't like Augustus. I can't make up my mind if he's genuinely supposed to be this strange asshole or actually doesn't work as a character. I liked Alaska. She's destructive but she's so human. Augustus has this dumbass "metaphor" which has been ripped the shit out of by memes across the internet. Either proving its impressive transcendence or that thousands of teenagers didn't feel "okay" about it.
If the selling point of this new work of Green's is a female protagonist then count me out. Making a protagonist female just to sell more books is counterproductive to feminism. Females are not there to sell your novels. I can fit myself into any protagonist. Man, woman, time travelling gender altering Orlando, if a text is written by a human about humans there will be a kind of human connection. The sex of the protagonist does not necessarily determine my desire to read the narrative.
Ultimately, LfA is the better version of this text; why would I want a slightly less believable copy?
And, nothing pissed me off more than the fact that it didn't end in the middle of a
23 April 2014
04 April 2014
The condition of education
At a very young age I realised I had a much furthered interest in academic study than my parents ever had the opportunity or the desire to pursue.
When I was in primary school, this wasn't an issue; however when I entered secondary school, they very quickly became aware that they were getting out of their depth. They couldn't help me with quadratic equations or tell me the number of electrons in a carbon atom and had no idea who Lenny was or just how much he loved that rabbit.
At the age of 12, I was on my own. There would be no further academic help offered to me at home. Not because they didn't want to of course but because they couldn't. This didn't strike me as strange. People's parents worked and some were smarter than others and some weren't.
When I came to university though, I discovered that people's parents were more academically educated and had even been to university. And not only that but they had an actual vested interest in what their kids studied. My friend studies the same English degree as me and goes home to her both graduated parents and has full conversations, discussions, lengthy, heated arguments about the likes of Brontë and Dickens. How fantastic! To be greeted with enthusiasm and questions and opinions rather than a blank stare, a passing comment and a change of subject.
I don't know how many people educated above their parents feel like their skills aren't appreciated, or worse, felt like their education is perhaps useless, a waste of money and time, when one could be earning money and moving out and "having a life".
In July I will become the first female to graduate on my father's side and the only person to ever go to university, let alone graduate, on my mother's. It's new for them; the opportunities to study are much greater now and the social factors of generation and location mean that this is the first time lots of young people have ventured into further study rather than stretching to a vocational course at college.
Disclaimer: this is not a post slating those who chose not to go into further study. In fact, coming out the other side of university in a few months has given me a fresh, tired perspective that casts a hefty £17,000 debt over my last three years. Maybe I didn't need a degree. Maybe I didn't need to study the Renaissance period or Samuel Beckett or what makes a good preface. I too am weighing up whether it was worth it.
Regardless, it doesn't mean that the potential to further myself academically wasn't there. Perhaps I'm being a brat. I was supported financially to do this. Perhaps, intellectually, I should have realised that I am still on my own.
When I was in primary school, this wasn't an issue; however when I entered secondary school, they very quickly became aware that they were getting out of their depth. They couldn't help me with quadratic equations or tell me the number of electrons in a carbon atom and had no idea who Lenny was or just how much he loved that rabbit.
At the age of 12, I was on my own. There would be no further academic help offered to me at home. Not because they didn't want to of course but because they couldn't. This didn't strike me as strange. People's parents worked and some were smarter than others and some weren't.
When I came to university though, I discovered that people's parents were more academically educated and had even been to university. And not only that but they had an actual vested interest in what their kids studied. My friend studies the same English degree as me and goes home to her both graduated parents and has full conversations, discussions, lengthy, heated arguments about the likes of Brontë and Dickens. How fantastic! To be greeted with enthusiasm and questions and opinions rather than a blank stare, a passing comment and a change of subject.
I don't know how many people educated above their parents feel like their skills aren't appreciated, or worse, felt like their education is perhaps useless, a waste of money and time, when one could be earning money and moving out and "having a life".
In July I will become the first female to graduate on my father's side and the only person to ever go to university, let alone graduate, on my mother's. It's new for them; the opportunities to study are much greater now and the social factors of generation and location mean that this is the first time lots of young people have ventured into further study rather than stretching to a vocational course at college.
Disclaimer: this is not a post slating those who chose not to go into further study. In fact, coming out the other side of university in a few months has given me a fresh, tired perspective that casts a hefty £17,000 debt over my last three years. Maybe I didn't need a degree. Maybe I didn't need to study the Renaissance period or Samuel Beckett or what makes a good preface. I too am weighing up whether it was worth it.
Regardless, it doesn't mean that the potential to further myself academically wasn't there. Perhaps I'm being a brat. I was supported financially to do this. Perhaps, intellectually, I should have realised that I am still on my own.
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