“Shakespeare told us precious little of the man whom he entombed in his linguistic sarcophagus. (Witness also that when we talk about literature, we do so in the present tense. When we speak of the dead, we are not so kind.) You do not immortalize the lost by writing about them. Language buries, but does not resurrect.”
~ John Green, The Fault in Our Stars
I picked up my signed (with purple sharpie) copy of “The Fault in Our Stars” from the post office on Friday afternoon and started reading it Saturday night. By the time I made myself put it down and go to bed it was already 4am.
It makes me wish I had an entire day to set aside for it, to fully experience and process the book, but nights are good too (I sleep very little anyways).
I read another book by John Green before, but chose this one mainly on impulse, because I fell in love with the title. And I am so glad I managed to jump into reading it not quite knowing what it’s all about, and had absolutely no spoilers.
You probably all know by now how much I love reading. Even more so, when a book manages to make me laugh and cry, when it changes me, when it makes me feel so many intense feelings.
It captures so well the mysticism of personhood, and is such a rollercoaster of a book to read, even so far. I have a strong feeling I’ll be re-reading it.
Somehow it’s clear to me that this book chose me just as much as I chose it (or even more).
I highly recommend it to everyone!