I’m conflicted about this book. I have read John Green’s work before, and I love his writing style and characters. However, Paper Towns does, as other reviewers have mentioned, tread well-worn ground: in many ways, his characters Quentin (”Q”) and Margo may as well be clones of Miles (”Pudge”) and Alaska in Looking for Alaska, or Colin and his Katherines in An Abundance of Katherines. The formula seems to be the same: Take one intelligent, quirky, neurotic, nerdy-geeky guy. Add one unattainable, mysterious, beautiful/bad-ass/brilliant girl with at least one deep flaw, not immediately apparent, who this guy obsesses over anyway. Throw in a dash of ethnically random friends who are even quirkier than the guy, and about as intelligent, which results in incredibly quirky, witty, though sometimes hokey, banter between them.
However, Green executes this formula excellently. I’m torn between giving Paper Towns or Alaska the crown, here, since I liked different things about the books. I think Alaska had the better plot, since Paper Towns starts off with engines roaring, switches gears abruptly, chugs along at a steady pace, then peters to a put-putting halt. There’s so much beautifully worked tension that builds and builds, but toward the last third of the book, I found the suspense exhausting and started reading so fast the words blurred, just to get to the end. When I did hit that final climactic scene, it was anti-climactic. I went through the final pages, hoping, hoping, then cried, “What? Seriously? Was that IT?” and wanted to throttle a certain character.
Although… I suspect Green intended the ending to be a little anti-climactic, at least according to the setup of the story and the expectations of Quentin, which I shared. I don’t think Green wanted Paper Towns to be a book that fulfilled readers’ desires for a tidy plot, perfect romance, or happy ending, since these literary devices rarely occur in reality. Paper Towns appears to aim higher, and deeper, for a story that makes you question what fulfillment and purpose actually mean. His exploration of the term “paper towns” being a prime example. But still, I can’t say it wasn’t disappointing.
Different readers will take away different messages from this book. I recommend that you read it if you’re looking for beautifully written contemporary YA, or if you like literary explorations of character. However, don’t expect Paper Towns to satisfy your every desire as a reader. That is, I think, the point.
Confession: I have a rather large to-be-read pile, with many new books clamoring for my attention. So when I received an ARC of Eyes Like Stars ages ago, I read a few pages and set it down again. Repeat over the span of several weeks.
Why wasn’t I whisked away into the world of Eyes Like Stars? I’m not sure, but I suspect it had to do with the large cast of characters and confusing hubbub of activity in the first few chapters. Also, I had a hard time guessing where the plot was going initially. This isn’t the kind of book that holds a reader’s hand and guides them through a brand new world; it’s a book that tosses you into the glittering confusion and lets you sort things out along the way.
Once I got my bearings, however, the story steadily grew more and more irresistible. Major points for the evilly adorable, naughty fairies Peaseblossom, Cobweb, Moth, and Mustardseed of A Midsummer Night’s Dream fame. Fairies + pastries = hilarity. They provide some of the funniest moments in the book, though their snarky little jokes may even be eclipsed by Bertie’s wit and the amusing conundrums she finds herself in. I also laughed at Bertie’s bossy treatment of the various male characters in this story, particularly when they attempt to flirt with her. Bertie makes a wonderfully quirky protagonist, flawed yet strong in an unquestionably matter-of-fact way.
The characters alone were enough to tug me through the first half of the story. Around the middle, the plot picked up and I started zipping through the pages. I loved learning more about the Theatre Illuminata–which is a great piece of worldbuilding–and Bertie’s place within it. I found the ending fun and unexpected, with just enough loose threads to make a sequel enticing.
Overall, I would recommend Eyes Like Stars to anyone who loves Shakespeare, snarkiness, original worldbuilding, and quirky fantasy. And, of course, mischievous little fairies.
Bloodborn is done! As of 11:06 AM, PST, the first draft is 49,653 words long. Next: revisions…
