Didn't have an "easy" or cliche "fairytale" ending
I’ve been meaning to pick up a John Green book for a very long time, but it wasn’t until I heard good reviews of this book that I finally did. My initial thought after finishing the book is this: I now understand all the hype.
I read a great deal of YA fiction, but it is not very often that I finish the book feeling whole. Not because the ending was that of a fairy tale — John Green has a reputation for ensuring those endings don’t exist in his novels — but because the book was just so well-written. I feel as if many YA writers sit down to write books, but forget who their audience is. They are writing a much more washed out and juvenile version of what teenagers are actually like today. They are afraid to let their characters cuss or talk about sex, as if neither action actually exists among young adults. YA authors tend to stray away from the reality of teen behavior, but this book faced realities in a compelling way.
The novel follows Aza, a sixteen year old with an obsessive compulsive disorder, as she navigates the implications of her illness on her relationships with other people. Simultaneously, Aza and her best friend Daisy make it their mission to find Davis Pickett’s billionaire father wanted by the police, and it just so happens that Davis is an old friend of Aza’s from camp.
I appreciated the way the Aza, Daisy, and Davis (as well as the other secondary characters) were facing so many different conflicts (i.e. grief, financial classes, love, mental health, college decisions) at once, because that is exactly how the world works. Real teenagers do not fixate their lives on one specific conflict for extended periods of time, rather they balance several conflicts. I love the way this book was able to depict that struggle to maintain a balance in such a way that allowed readers to follow each plot line to the very end.
I loved the characterization, as they all felt tangible. Their mannerisms and tendancies were displayed through each appearance on the page. There was not a single moment in any interaction that made me feel as if the personalities of these characters were lost, not even in the dialogue (which was also incredible). This attention to detail is something that will drive me to pick up another John Green novel in the near future.
Marisa Reichardt’s debut novel Underwater is a compelling account of a teenage girl’s struggles with agoraphobia caused by a traumatic shooting taking place in her high school. The book intended for a young adult audience follows Morgan as as she tries to cope with several adversities in her life, primarily the fear of leaving her apartment. Morgan was content with wearing the same pajamas everyday while she did her schoolwork online and ate grilled cheese for lunch until a boy her age named Evan moved in next door. Evan showed up on Morgan’s door step smelling like the ocean, reminding her of summer and everything she missed outdoors. With help from Evan, her psychiatrist, her mom, and her little brother Ben, Morgan is able to finally confront her fears and take necessary steps toward recovery.
I found myself connecting to Morgan more than any other character within the book, and that connection began early on in her description of the day her younger brother was born.
"I think of Ben on the day he was born, all chubby and pink and bald. … I think of the newborn Ben next to my mom’s hospital bed and rocking him under dim lights while he slept in my arms. I fall asleep to the feeling of a love I never knew until my brother got here."
Being the youngest in my family and having no experience with anyone I knew having children, I was especially excited when my only sister got pregnant with her first child. I sat in an uncomfortable chair across the room from my sister’s hospital bed for thirteen hours while she was in labor. When she was finally ready to push, I stood at her side giving words of encouragement, and she even gave me the honor of cutting my nephew’s umbilical cord. I remember the warmth of my tears as I heard my nephew cry out, sucking in his first breaths of air. I left the hospital shortly after his delivery, allowing my sister to get some rest. I returned a few hours later and held my tiny nephew in my arms for the first time. I love plenty of people in my life, but it wasn’t until I watched my newborn nephew as he slept swaddled in the hospital-issued blanket that I fully understood the depths of the love I was capable of producing. The astonishment I felt holding my precious nephew can be compared to the feelings Morgan had toward her brother the day he was born.
What I found to be most fascinating about this book is the way the author tackles the problem of school shootings in a way that humanizes the shooter and his victims. Instead of making the shooter out to be a merciless attacker, he was demonstrated as a victim of neglect among his peers who deserves forgiveness for his mistakes. There have been one hundred and seventy-four school shootings in America since the year 2003. School shootings are a recurring issue in our society.
"Before Aaron’s Facebook was disabled, news outlets released photographs from his profile. They found the worst ones. The ones that painted the picture of a kid who was angry and alone. They interviewed neighbors who said Aaron spent weekends tinkering in the garage. His mom revealed Aaron had been in therapy since middle school. His dad revealed he kept guns in the house. For protection. From the world. Not from his son. Those were guns Aaron brought to school onOctober fifteenth. … And the only person who could give us answers, who could tell us why, was gone."
The media is quick to make the shooter out to be a monster instead of acknowledging the idea that people make drastic decisions, like one of shooting up a school, because they have no one to turn to.
Other personal accounts of shootings have been written, but there is nothing like this fictional demonstration of the aftereffects of such occurrences. Misty Bernell, the mother of a student killed in the Columbine High School shooting taking place in 1999, wrote the book She Said Yes: The Unlikely Martydom of Cassie Bernall as a way of commemorating her daughter and spreading awareness of the lives lost in the tragic massacre. Reichardt manages to establish a point of view that allows readers to show empathy toward a victim in the shooting the same way Bernell does without downplaying the internal struggles Aaron, the shooter in the novel, may have been experiencing.
The successful manner in which Reichardt explores a real-time societal issue from a unique perspective provides enough grounds for me to recommend the book. However, I was also able to find many characteristics that made me feel invested in the well-being of the each of the characters within the novel. Morgan works especially hard to go outside in order to see her brother perform in his kindergarten play, the psychiatrist meets with Morgan for free because the psychiatrist wanted Morgan to know she was being heard, Evan offering his old prepaid cell phone to Morgan so they could send text messages to communicate the problems Morgan was too afraid to talk about out loud, and the way Morgan’s mother compromises with Morgan and attempts to understand her feelings. Each character demonstrates selflessness and unconditional love while maneuvering through a situation where love and support are crucial to the mental health of everyone involved. Reading about people who truly care about each other and work to build each other up in a difficult time instead of worrying only of themselves is refreshing.
