In Which I Become Possessive Of My Favourite Books

In “The Fault In Our Stars” it states, “Sometimes, you read a book and it fills you with this weird evangelical zeal, and you become convinced that the shattered world will never be put back together unless and until all living humans read the book”. I have read a number of these books in my life. Looking For Alaska. The Perks Of Being A Wallflower. The Book Thief. The Fault In Our Stars itself. Books so beautiful that as soon as you read them you want to talk about them non-stop and force every single person you know and then some you don’t to read it. Because the letters are put into words that work in sentences and paragraphs so perfect that you actually want to cry (and sometimes usually do). 

I was talking with a friend today about books like that, and how they make us feel. And how we’re almost scared of reading them because, in a way, they make you feel hollow. Because you will never be able to create something that amazing, or be part of something as beautiful as the stories the sentences tell. The stories are so…profound, that their mere existence makes you question everything you thought you believed. 

I also think you have to have a sort of personality to react in such a way though. I know people who can’t stand reading and couldn’t care less about brilliant sentences. There are others I know who think that books like this are overrated and overhyped and not as good as everyone says they are. Hazel Grace deals with that, by saying “And then are books like An Imperial Affliction, which you can’t tell people about, books so special and rare and yours that advertising your affection feels like a betrayal”

There’s little I hate more than people on tumblr who couldn’t care less about reading who spend half their time reblogging quotes from The Perks Of Being A Wallflower. The quotes are beautiful, yes, but unless you have experienced the painful perfection of Charlie’s letters in their entirety, you don’t get the right to share his story. The same goes for the so-quoted-its-a-cliche line in Looking For Alaska, “But I lacked the courage and she had a boyfriend and I was gawky and she was gorgeous and I was hopelessly boring and she was endlessly fascinating. So I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, I was a drizzle and she was a hurricane”. I see so many people on tumblr and instagram posting variations of that quote and it angers me. It really, truly angers me. Because unless you have experienced the pain of the gym scene. Unless you have read the beautiful essay at the end. Unless you have contemplated the nature of the labyrinth, you have no right to be sharing my sentences. I have sobbed over Alaska and The Fault In Our Stars, sobbed just thinking about lines and sentences. Sobbed thinking about characters and events, and dammit, HE LIT UP LIKE A CHRISTMAS TREE. And when people who like lines but then can’t be bothered to become emotionally invested in the entire story – without which there would be no quotable quotes – talk about them and post them all over the internet, I want to grab the quotes from them and scream “MINE!”. Because like Hazel Grace says, the books become a part of you and you don’t want to share unless the person you share it with is going to appreciate their beauty as much as you do. 

frangipani princess xoxo 

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