So, people, Mini-Me basically ordered me to read this book, and The Book Accumulator had me order it for him so he could get it in English without stupid postage charges, and then I forgot to give it to him. So clearly my stars were telling me to get my act together and read it.
First impressions: these kids are witty, and I love their conversation, but so far, so another teenage cancer-ridden love story. See similar misery novels: My Sister’s Keeper, Elsewhere, Before I Die.
I like the humour, the conversations are funny, but then I had An Issue With This Book: Augustus. He talks like no 17-year-old I’ve ever met. He talks like no man I’ve ever met. I know some quite humorous (can’t believe I just tried to spell that humourous and I had to rely on WordPress to tell me it was wrong) young women who can get about that many words per minute in amusing streams of consciousness out, but no men. I’m not trying to generalise here, find me an erudite loquacious teenage boy, never mind teenage cancer-surviving boy, and I will eat my metaphorical hat. Or an actual one, if you find me a hat made of chocolate. (melty).
And when I cannot believe the conversational talent of one of the main couple, things are Not Going To Go Well.
Or so I thought – I’ve read another 70 pages and have sort of accepted it but it’s still bugging me. But now they’re in Amsterdam and drinking the stars and falling in love but it’s cute and complex and not totally sugar-laden because Hazel thinks of herself like a grenade and… stuff. Themes. Things that English teachers like to discuss.
Also, in unrelated news, today I finished the audit that would not die.
For those reading this on an email – I request the highest of fives. Funnier with the accompanying clip of Barney Stinson from How I Met Your Mother requesting the five.