The title of this post is pretty indicative of the intended content, I think. It's 3:04 in the morning and I should really be sleeping because my boyfriend is coming out tomorrow--today, I guess--oh yeah, you guys, I have a boyfriend; kinda forgot to mention that, as though it really mattered--and I should really be sleeping because I have shit to do before he gets here and I'm so exhausted lately I just want to sleep all the damn time and I don't have time to sleep because I have too many things to do and SO not enough time to do them in because I have a job that I have to drive back and forth to Minot for and that takes a SHIT TON of time, if you didn't know that already.
That was... like... one sentence, guys. One really big, run-on sentence. My English teachers would be ashamed.
Fortunately for me, this isn't a graded assignment! So screw them. (And I don't think I'm actually taking an English course this semester. Whoops.) Anyway. Moving along.
I just finished reading Paper Towns by John Green today. Queue book cover:
There are two different covers for this book, and I haven't decided which one I like better. This is the one I have, which is the main reason I'm using it right now. Depending on how freaking long I talk about it, I may through the other one in as well. I'm really hoping to not keep myself up til, like, 5 in the morning. Not even 4 if I can help it. But I'm sitting up. And my back is cold. What is this place coming to??
Anyway. Sorry. Somehow I'm also vaguely hyper-active and I really need to get back on topic. *cough*
The more accurate asterisk-action would be *sniffle* but let's leave my cold out of this.
I'm going to need both frickin covers just to get into the book.
And it seems my swearing increases the longer I've been awake. Sorry. Trying to calm down. And I have band music stuck in my head because I was practicing my flute last night. I half-wonder how long I might allow myself to ramble like this before I say what I mean to...
ANYWAY! The book, the book. I'm serious now.
Quentin Jacobsen is a mild-mannered guy. His parents are both psychiatrists. What the hell do you expect? And he's a senior in high school. A bit of a nerd, but not overwhelmingly so. Actually, all in all, he's relatively boring. At least at the start of the novel. He's just a boy. I mean, don't get me wrong, I imagine him to be a sorta kinda cute-ish boy, but just a boy nonetheless.
And he's practically in love with his neighbor: Margo Roth Speigelman. (I like the name Margo, just for the record. At first I thought it was sort of odd, but I grew to rather like it.) Except that as the novel proceeds, Quentin finds that it's not really Margo he's in love with, it's the idea of Margo. Because he realizes that he actually really doesn't know Margo--none of them do.
Margo involves him in a night of adventures and then suddenly disappears. Apparently it's nothing new, as she's run away to do things in the past. Only this time, she isn't coming back. Much turmoil takes its place in the pages following Margo's disappearance, and I can't help but sympathize with Quentin. Simultaneously, knowing what I know, I sympathize with her as well.
As with Looking for Alaska, Paper Towns has a lot of philosophy running throughout its pages. Concepts that I think more people need to be introduced/exposed to and made to think about. Not just because they're big, deep concepts, but because they are important ones that help to allow us to grow as individuals. At this point in my life, I have actually come to address most of the things discussed in this book already, but John Green has this beautiful knack for addressing it differently than I do. Obviously, because he's a different person.
For example, one of the themes is that we, as individuals, have a tendency to look at others not as people, but as ideas, as concepts. We see in others what we see in ourselves, so it's sort of like looking into a mirror. We need to act more as windows instead of mirrors, so that we look into people, not at reflections of what we want to see.
This is kind of difficult to discuss the way I'd really like to. I'm not entirely sure how to break it down decently. Or really at all.
When we look at people, we see what we want to see, not necessarily what's there. We see outward appearance and make psychological judgments based on these appearances. We look at a person's behavior and start creating this image of who and what we think this person is, and then it doesn't really matter what this person does, the image of them we have created is who they are in our minds. And every person will come up with a different image of this person of discussion--that's the trick of it. None of us are going to see exactly the same person because we all have our own internal prejudices and hang ups and baggage that alters how we see everything--even if/when we don't realize it.
In this way we sort of act as mirrors. Because we are projecting onto others the things we see--or don't see but hold--inside of ourselves. This kind of blocks our ability to actually consider others to be people--individuals--instead of ideas. We become so entranced with the idea of someone that when we actually start to get to know them and begin to discover that they aren't some mystical, entrancing enigma, they're just a person, we become disappointed. I don't understand why.
I like to think I have escaped all of this that I've just mentioned. I'm fully aware of it, and I like to think that I see people, not ideas. But even still, I find myself realizing that this person I'm talking to isn't who I thought they were. Sometimes I like the idea better than the person. Sometimes it's the other way around. I don't think any of us can truly escape it forever; I think it's a war in which we win and lose certain battles.
This can actually kind of tie into the themes of Looking For Alaska, namely the question of Simon Bolivar's labyrinth. What if, instead of suffering, the labyrinth was our habit to see ideas instead of people? Maybe Bolivar's labyrinth is actually the convoluted confines of seeing two-dimensional people in a three-dimensional world. People are more than just an idea, a concept, a vision or an enigma, and sometimes, it takes a lot of work to see that.
(I went to bed and am writing now Tuesday evening, just for the record):
Paper Towns is much more light-hearted than LFA was, all the way to the end, but even still it gets a bit heavy. Quite frankly, I'd have been disappointed if it hadn't. The ending is as equally unfulfilling as Alaska, but kind of in a different manner. I sent this text to a friend last night:
"Are all of the endings of John Green's novels so painfully unfulfilling?
I suppose that's ultimately the purpose of his writing, to be both perfectly and beautifully philosophical and yet so endlessly and sadly unfulfilling, since thus is the unalterable nature of life: to ignore what we want and make its own twists and turns and decisions without our pior approval or satisfaction.
In that way, Green's become one of my very favorite authors--for being so philosophical and idealistic while remaining almost brutally realistic."
The rest doesn't matter. lol.
To which she replies:
"[...] I think the main thing with his books is that they masquerade as simple YA literature, but have many of the elements of the classics--namely, that the theme and message take precedence over the plot. While other endings might be more satisfying from a more simplistic storytelling standpoint, John Green writes the ending that drives his point home and makes his audience think."
One of the things that I noticed while reading this book is that I'd actually already gone through most of the things that Quentin was going through, so I'd already come to the realizations that he had and so I kind of spent the duration of the novel biding my time until Quentin made the necessary revelations. Like the fact that he had to accept who Ben was and stop wishing he was somebody else and just like him as Ben because that was all he was ever going to get. Et cetera.
Also... another thing I kind of noticed is how remarkably similar it is to Looking for Alaska by way of characterization. Miles and Quentin are nigh identical in numerous ways--all the important ones--while worlds different in others. Alaska and Margo are the same enigmatic, frustrating, crazy, beautiful girl in different circumstances with different plights. But... they're kind of the same.
And I can't really fault Green for that, because I've noticed that I have a bit of a tendency to do that as well. The main characters are all relatively similar and it's because they are based, most often, on a part of me. Not me entirely, but a part of me. And it's quite apparent--if you know anything at all about John Green--that his protagonists are based broadly upon himself. Which isn't a bad thing; in fact it's often a very good idea, because it's easier to write believable actions/reactions/thought processes. Just saying.
So that's that. Paper Towns. One less book I need to take back to campus in January. I'm about halfway through Narcissus in Chains, book 10 in the Anita Blake series, and I guarantee I'll be done by Christmas, so that knocks another one down. I'm kind of trying to catch up on my reading over break. I have so many other things I need to be doing instead, but I need to read for the well-being of my psyche. I miss books. And I feel like my writing is kind of shitty lately. So I definitely need to do some reading, because that always improves it. It's kind of like research, in a way.
I've started using GoodReads, which is kind of like an internet library. It allows you to list and rate books that you have read, are currently reading, and want to read. I really like it. Plus, when you finish a book, it allows you to write a review of it if you want. I do, of course--imagine: Emily has something to say about a book. hahaha.
Oh. And I have a couple of albums to review, but I'm not gonna do it today. Maybe tomorrow. Unlikely, considering I have to drive an hour to work 8, go on a date and then drive the hour back home. Not like it's THAT big of a deal, but I doubt I'll be much in the mood to blog by the time I'm done.
So that's that. And I'm out.
Ta ta!
--Emily Renae <3
That was... like... one sentence, guys. One really big, run-on sentence. My English teachers would be ashamed.
Fortunately for me, this isn't a graded assignment! So screw them. (And I don't think I'm actually taking an English course this semester. Whoops.) Anyway. Moving along.
I just finished reading Paper Towns by John Green today. Queue book cover:
There are two different covers for this book, and I haven't decided which one I like better. This is the one I have, which is the main reason I'm using it right now. Depending on how freaking long I talk about it, I may through the other one in as well. I'm really hoping to not keep myself up til, like, 5 in the morning. Not even 4 if I can help it. But I'm sitting up. And my back is cold. What is this place coming to??
Anyway. Sorry. Somehow I'm also vaguely hyper-active and I really need to get back on topic. *cough*
The more accurate asterisk-action would be *sniffle* but let's leave my cold out of this.
I'm going to need both frickin covers just to get into the book.
And it seems my swearing increases the longer I've been awake. Sorry. Trying to calm down. And I have band music stuck in my head because I was practicing my flute last night. I half-wonder how long I might allow myself to ramble like this before I say what I mean to...
ANYWAY! The book, the book. I'm serious now.
Quentin Jacobsen is a mild-mannered guy. His parents are both psychiatrists. What the hell do you expect? And he's a senior in high school. A bit of a nerd, but not overwhelmingly so. Actually, all in all, he's relatively boring. At least at the start of the novel. He's just a boy. I mean, don't get me wrong, I imagine him to be a sorta kinda cute-ish boy, but just a boy nonetheless.
And he's practically in love with his neighbor: Margo Roth Speigelman. (I like the name Margo, just for the record. At first I thought it was sort of odd, but I grew to rather like it.) Except that as the novel proceeds, Quentin finds that it's not really Margo he's in love with, it's the idea of Margo. Because he realizes that he actually really doesn't know Margo--none of them do.
Margo involves him in a night of adventures and then suddenly disappears. Apparently it's nothing new, as she's run away to do things in the past. Only this time, she isn't coming back. Much turmoil takes its place in the pages following Margo's disappearance, and I can't help but sympathize with Quentin. Simultaneously, knowing what I know, I sympathize with her as well.
As with Looking for Alaska, Paper Towns has a lot of philosophy running throughout its pages. Concepts that I think more people need to be introduced/exposed to and made to think about. Not just because they're big, deep concepts, but because they are important ones that help to allow us to grow as individuals. At this point in my life, I have actually come to address most of the things discussed in this book already, but John Green has this beautiful knack for addressing it differently than I do. Obviously, because he's a different person.
For example, one of the themes is that we, as individuals, have a tendency to look at others not as people, but as ideas, as concepts. We see in others what we see in ourselves, so it's sort of like looking into a mirror. We need to act more as windows instead of mirrors, so that we look into people, not at reflections of what we want to see.
This is kind of difficult to discuss the way I'd really like to. I'm not entirely sure how to break it down decently. Or really at all.
When we look at people, we see what we want to see, not necessarily what's there. We see outward appearance and make psychological judgments based on these appearances. We look at a person's behavior and start creating this image of who and what we think this person is, and then it doesn't really matter what this person does, the image of them we have created is who they are in our minds. And every person will come up with a different image of this person of discussion--that's the trick of it. None of us are going to see exactly the same person because we all have our own internal prejudices and hang ups and baggage that alters how we see everything--even if/when we don't realize it.
In this way we sort of act as mirrors. Because we are projecting onto others the things we see--or don't see but hold--inside of ourselves. This kind of blocks our ability to actually consider others to be people--individuals--instead of ideas. We become so entranced with the idea of someone that when we actually start to get to know them and begin to discover that they aren't some mystical, entrancing enigma, they're just a person, we become disappointed. I don't understand why.
I like to think I have escaped all of this that I've just mentioned. I'm fully aware of it, and I like to think that I see people, not ideas. But even still, I find myself realizing that this person I'm talking to isn't who I thought they were. Sometimes I like the idea better than the person. Sometimes it's the other way around. I don't think any of us can truly escape it forever; I think it's a war in which we win and lose certain battles.
This can actually kind of tie into the themes of Looking For Alaska, namely the question of Simon Bolivar's labyrinth. What if, instead of suffering, the labyrinth was our habit to see ideas instead of people? Maybe Bolivar's labyrinth is actually the convoluted confines of seeing two-dimensional people in a three-dimensional world. People are more than just an idea, a concept, a vision or an enigma, and sometimes, it takes a lot of work to see that.
(I went to bed and am writing now Tuesday evening, just for the record):
Paper Towns is much more light-hearted than LFA was, all the way to the end, but even still it gets a bit heavy. Quite frankly, I'd have been disappointed if it hadn't. The ending is as equally unfulfilling as Alaska, but kind of in a different manner. I sent this text to a friend last night:
"Are all of the endings of John Green's novels so painfully unfulfilling?
I suppose that's ultimately the purpose of his writing, to be both perfectly and beautifully philosophical and yet so endlessly and sadly unfulfilling, since thus is the unalterable nature of life: to ignore what we want and make its own twists and turns and decisions without our pior approval or satisfaction.
In that way, Green's become one of my very favorite authors--for being so philosophical and idealistic while remaining almost brutally realistic."
The rest doesn't matter. lol.
To which she replies:
"[...] I think the main thing with his books is that they masquerade as simple YA literature, but have many of the elements of the classics--namely, that the theme and message take precedence over the plot. While other endings might be more satisfying from a more simplistic storytelling standpoint, John Green writes the ending that drives his point home and makes his audience think."
One of the things that I noticed while reading this book is that I'd actually already gone through most of the things that Quentin was going through, so I'd already come to the realizations that he had and so I kind of spent the duration of the novel biding my time until Quentin made the necessary revelations. Like the fact that he had to accept who Ben was and stop wishing he was somebody else and just like him as Ben because that was all he was ever going to get. Et cetera.
Also... another thing I kind of noticed is how remarkably similar it is to Looking for Alaska by way of characterization. Miles and Quentin are nigh identical in numerous ways--all the important ones--while worlds different in others. Alaska and Margo are the same enigmatic, frustrating, crazy, beautiful girl in different circumstances with different plights. But... they're kind of the same.
And I can't really fault Green for that, because I've noticed that I have a bit of a tendency to do that as well. The main characters are all relatively similar and it's because they are based, most often, on a part of me. Not me entirely, but a part of me. And it's quite apparent--if you know anything at all about John Green--that his protagonists are based broadly upon himself. Which isn't a bad thing; in fact it's often a very good idea, because it's easier to write believable actions/reactions/thought processes. Just saying.
So that's that. Paper Towns. One less book I need to take back to campus in January. I'm about halfway through Narcissus in Chains, book 10 in the Anita Blake series, and I guarantee I'll be done by Christmas, so that knocks another one down. I'm kind of trying to catch up on my reading over break. I have so many other things I need to be doing instead, but I need to read for the well-being of my psyche. I miss books. And I feel like my writing is kind of shitty lately. So I definitely need to do some reading, because that always improves it. It's kind of like research, in a way.
I've started using GoodReads, which is kind of like an internet library. It allows you to list and rate books that you have read, are currently reading, and want to read. I really like it. Plus, when you finish a book, it allows you to write a review of it if you want. I do, of course--imagine: Emily has something to say about a book. hahaha.
Oh. And I have a couple of albums to review, but I'm not gonna do it today. Maybe tomorrow. Unlikely, considering I have to drive an hour to work 8, go on a date and then drive the hour back home. Not like it's THAT big of a deal, but I doubt I'll be much in the mood to blog by the time I'm done.
So that's that. And I'm out.
Ta ta!
--Emily Renae <3
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