In the year and a half I’ve run this blog, I’ve found that the more I love a book, the more I struggle to write the book review. That’s the case with The Fault in Our Stars by John Green.
I finished this book on January 8, 2021, and I’m only just now writing this review. (Although I blame part of that on the stress of the Department of Education-related investigation that’s monopolized much of the last year for me.) I’m behind on my Lifetime Reading List plans for 2021—several books behind, in fact—and yet…I can’t find the energy to care all that much.
Partially because this really is only a hobby book blog. More so, though, because I think The Fault in Our Stars impacted me in a way I wasn’t expecting. In the past, The Fault in Our Stars has caused me a few issues, as detailed in this post on my other blog (Trigger Warning: I mention sexual assault in that post). However, this time, I think what hit me the hardest about the star-crossed, little infinity love story between August Waters and Hazel Grace Lancaster is that I finally understand how some infinities are bigger than other infinities, as Peter Van Houten explains to the protagonists in Amsterdam.
John Green’s book is powerful, to be sure. I haven’t often been able to read a Y.A. novel more than once, let alone nearly a half-dozen times, like I have The Fault in Our Stars, all but the latest of which were negative experiences for me (for reasons beyond Green’s control, that is). The pure innocence of both Hazel and Augustus alike, as well as their acceptance of the hard-knock life they’re both leading, is inspiring. And, perhaps most poignantly for me as a leukemia survivor, the way Hazel resolves to make the most of the time she has left following the death of Augustus is a vivid reminder of what I’m still doing here.
When I was going through cancer, I was one of thirty-six kids my family of origin and I got to know well during that two-and-a-half year time frame. Four of us are still alive.
Three of us are now married; two of us have kids. I don’t know how the other one is doing beyond the fact that she’s still in remission. It’s unreal to me that I am one of a fraction of survivors in our group—and one of a fraction of survivors nationally and globally.
I’ve long believed that it’s my duty to live each day I have to the fullest. Life is a gift for all of us, and the fact that I’m alive when so many have died makes that gift all the more precious to me. In that sense, I can relate to Hazel, who knows she will eventually die—like we all will—yet resolves to live her life more fully because she gets to live. Hazel gets to live in the After of Augustus Waters.
Even for folks who haven’t had a life-threatening illness, there’s a universal truth to that.
We’re all alive—cancer or not—because our ancestors fought and survived unimaginable things. When I think of my kids’ future, I can’t imagine it without them asking questions about the COVID-19 Pandemic and how we managed to survive it and stay completely healthy; we’ve done it because we do not leave the house. We’re desperate to some days, but unless we have to go to the store for an essential item (food, home repair, toiletries) or to work (with masks and social distancing), we haven’t been social in months. We haven’t been to the zoo or a museum or plays or even a restaurant. It’s a little cabin-fever-y sometimes (a lot of the time—toddlers are energetic and loud, let’s say) and I definitely miss seeing friends, taking my kids to the zoo, but it’s worth it. And, in the big picture of human history, it’s a small sacrifice, especially when compared to what my great-grandparents faced by evacuating Italy shortly before World War I broke out across Europe. They came to America and to build a life—a family—that made it possible for me to even exist.
We’re all alive because someone, somewhere in time, decided to do more, fight for something, and survive whatever tried to kill them—famine, persecution, war, poverty, disease, and more. If one person had made one different choice, we might not even be here.
And doesn’t that reality give us something unique and all our own to live for, too?
The Fault in Our Stars by John Green is a five-star book. It’s the type of book that makes the reader think, encouraging the reader to imagine a life with less privilege than they have—and I believe that we’re not all privileged equally, to be clear. Whether we have health or wealth or something else, someone longs for what we have and we may do the same with what they have. Nonetheless, the love story of Augustus and Hazel certainly reminds us to make the most of what we have, exactly where we are…and to love those we know in the time we have together.