A Long Overdue Review of The Fault in Our Stars

I know, I know. Reviewing The Fault in Our Stars is kind of like reviewing the Avengers. Everyone’s done it and everyone loves it. But I still got to do it.

I’ll keep this (relatively) short.

First, some history. I first stumbled upon John Green about six years ago when I read Looking for Alaska and loved it. The thing I loved about it was not the plot per se (because I can’t really remember the plot at this point), but the characters. John Green has smart, irreverent, sassy, unique characters, and, as I read his books, I find myself thinking, “I want to be that person.”

The same is true for The Fault in Our Stars. I generally avoid books that I know from the get go are going to make me cry, and a book about cancer just screams a bucket of tears and the boyfriend saying over and over again, “it’s just pretend.” That said, after reading so many stellar reviews, I finally gave in and I discovered why I liked John Green oh so many years ago: I want to be Hazel and Gus (minus the whole cancer thing). They are smart, funny, and in possession of their own souls.

I know that was one of the criticisms of the book – that teenagers don’t talk that way. They are too smart, too funny, too precocious, etc.


I still want to be them the same way I wanted (okay, fine, I still want) to be Veronica Mars. Because they are just plain awesome.

Title: The Fault in Our Stars
Author: John Green
Publisher: Dutton Books
Pages: 336

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