T.E. W. (terez93) reviewed on 7/29/2019 + 323 more book reviews

I might like this more if it wasn't such a direct rip-off of Catcher in the Rye: the stock, prototypical, angst-ridden characters were right out of the Salinger novel, down to the much-beloved dead relative, whose untimely and tragic death sends the protagonist into a downward spiral, to the conceited and self-absorbed girlfriend (although the feminism is a new twist), to the (here rather awkward and abrupt) conclusion, where, after more bitter disappointment, the main character ends up in a mental hospital, where he starts "working things out," and, maybe they'll work out all right.

And, there's sex and drugs, 'cause, gotta be edgy, right?

Otherwise, it's just a poor rendition of your average awkward high-schooler's diary. I don't mind writers pushing or even transgressing boundaries, but not when they're going for little more than shock value: Chbosky throws in everything awful and tragic but the kitchen sink, including suicide, untimely death, rape, abortion, alcohol and drugs, homosexuality, more alcohol and drugs, even incest at one point, rather flippantly and simply as a matter of course. There's even - gasp - **mAsTuRbAtI0N** ... 'cause, "edgy," right - make sure you know it's "edgy"... and, even a few instances of "hand down my pants..." but that's largely as far as it gets, at least for the main character. Thank goodness: I don't think I could deal with any attempt at THAT description.

I get that the protagonist has difficulty expressing his "feelings," and that's a main point of the novel, but, jeez, throw me a frickin' bone here, and at least make SOME attempt: how did these things affect him? I can fill in some of the gaps, but don't leave me to do ALL the work! The material was just too superficial to make a lasting impact. I think in general, it had potential, but the author just couldn't pull it off, unlike the masterful and timeless Salinger, whom he is clearly, but unsuccessfully, trying to emulate. The writing style was also very detached and difficult to get into, as it felt simply like someone relating a sequence of events that didn't have much impact. I get that I'm supposed to be shocked, horrified, sad, afraid, etc., etc., etc., all the things the character, who is seemingly intended to be on the Autism spectrum, is incapable of feeling, but it's gonna take much more than this for me. As such, it's difficult to identify with the characters, even the awkward main one, whom I believe readers are intended to simultaneously feel sorry for and frustrated with. There's too much "happy" and "sad" with little else making a useful contribution. Just didn't resonate with me.

What is admittedly creative is the form the text takes, namely letters to the reader, but one never really learns why the letters are addressed to an anonymous reader, unless I missed something (doubtful, without sounding pretentious, as there's not a lot to miss here). Overall, I'm glad I read it, if just to see what other people have been talking about over the years, but now that I have, I'm rather confused, specifically concerning why this book has become what the dust cover describes as a "cult classic." Is THAT what the author was going for, what with his multiple references to the Rocky Horror Picture Show? Most people I've talked with about this book said that it's not really worth the bother, and that I haven't missed much by not reading it, and I'm sad to say that they're on the whole correct.

My favorite passage in the whole novel: "pizza bones." Great visual. Gonna have to use that one.

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