Turtles All the Way Down—John Green

(One of) my signed copy of Turtles All the Way Down

You remember you first love because they show you, prove to you, that you can love and be loved, that nothing in this world is deserved except for love, that love is both how you become a person, and why. (285)

Y'all, this is the first new John Green book in five years. It was worth the wait.

When billionaire Russell Pickett goes missing while under investigation, sixteen-year-old Aza is reminded of a long-dormant friendship with Russell's son Davis. Aza's best friend Daisy encourages Aza to rekindle the friendship in an effort to win the $100,000 reward. In the search for Pickett, and in the midst of a growing relationship with Davis, Aza must attempt to navigate her own the spiral of her own thoughts.

Aza is not the most likable character I've ever read. John Green knows this. Because of her mental health struggles, she sometimes can be self-involved and self-focused, unable to concentrate on what others are talking about, or to remember to inquire about her friend's lives. But she's better than a boringly likable character, because she's a fully-fleshed, emotional, complex character. She's realistic and real. And that may be because she has a lot in common with Green himself, so he had material to pull from. Having been lucky enough to have visited NerdCon: Stories last fall, I've heard him talk about his own mental health, both in some prepared remarks and more extemporaneously during the live taping of an episode of the Dear Hank and John podcast, and having read what he's written about those same struggles. Though I imagine there's pieces of  John in each of his books, Turtles seems by far the closest to autobiographical that a novel about a teenage girl could be in relation to a 40-year-old dude. (He also talked about the comparison between himself and Aza—more specifically the OCD aspects that he and Aza share—in this NPR interview.)

(Slight, semi-related tangent: One of the things that he's talked about with his own struggles, and that he addresses in the content of the book, is this romanticization of mental illness. This is not an easy thing to confront society about, especially a society that is still reticent to even talk about the existence and realities of mental illness, but it's a calling out that is much needed. The belief that somehow mental illness leads to greater creative output is an extremely harmful one, but it also a prevalent throughline in numerous types of media. So kudos to Green for having that conversation.)

The book has the trademark John Green writing, including the classic comparisons and metaphors that one would expect. He captures fully the feelings of Aza and Davis particularly, as they both navigate their growing relationship and, among other things, the shared loss of a parent. (Though Davis's dad is missing, the deceased parent for him is his mom, and for Aza, her dad.) Most importantly, he captures all of the feelings that Aza has: related to Davis, related to Daisy (especially after finally reading some Star Wars fan fiction that Daisy has written with a barely masked version of Aza as the villain of the piece), related to Aza's dad who passed away nearly a decade ago, related to Aza's relationship with her mom, related to Davis's little brother, Noah, related to Russell Pickett leaving his entire fortune to a tuatara rather than his sons, and most especially related to her obsessive thoughts. Though I don't have nearly as intense thought spirals as Aza does, I have been known to have obsessive thoughts and I definitely have ALL OF THE FEELINGS, so it was really nice to see that full range represented.

John Green is a prime example of all that YA can be, in my mind. Young adult novels get a lot of shit from some people who consider themselves lovers of books. (Much as romance novels do.) To be fair, there are some truly abysmal examples of YA. (But there are just as many, if not more, abysmal examples of literary fiction, so...) And then there are John Green books. They will always rise to be among the top examples for me. He has such an incisive and simultaneously nuanced way of looking at characters and situations that I immensely appreciate. He also always seems to be able to address the big questions and encounter the big conundrums that we all experience daily, while also telling an actual story, which is pretty awesome.

One of my coworkers the other day, in conversation with her about this book specifically, asked me which of John's books was my favourite. And this new one is it. Maybe it's partially the novelty of a new book after years of no new John Green books; maybe it's how I relate to Aza in many ways; maybe it's partially because this story feels the most intimate and personal of his books. I haven't quite figured out exactly the why yet. But whatever it is, Turtles is now my favourite. And if I have to wait five years for the next one, I'm sure it'll be just as worth it. Or if this is all we get from John—though I sincerely hope it's not—this will have been an exemplary final selection.