November 5, 2013

Starry Bit #1: The Fault In Our Stars

So it’s November, and many of my friends on Facebook are posting one thing each day for which they are thankful. It’s not that I don’t have many things each day for which I am thankful. (I’m expecting a baby, for one, and I already have a wonderfully sly and loving daughter to boot.) It’s just that I’m the kind of person who would dwell on things I’d forgotten to mention. (That’s probably just an excuse, but it’s the one that came to mind, and I’m OK with it.)

However, I’ve decided, in the interest of blogging more here (What? It’s only been three months…), to post passages—lets call them “starry bits” in honor of the passage from this, the first post—that I’m exceedingly glad to have met. I know it’s not an original idea, but it will be good for me. And maybe you’ll like it too.

I’m a bit late—it’s November 5 already—but I’ve already gotten over that.

These posts will be rather spontaneous. In other words, I don’t have a long list of items prepared already. I do know what I’ll post tomorrow, probably, but after that, it’s whatever floats to my brain (let’s hope without entering indirectly through a nostril).

Here’s number one…


This is the passage from The Fault In Our Stars by John Green in which Augustus tells Hazel, who has been slowly dying of cancer for as long as he’s known her, that he’s in love with her. There’s something about this passage—the dark dissonance in it, I think—that makes it stand out to me as a bare and honest and strangely hopeful “hey, I’ve got to say right now immediately and without taking a breath that I’m in love with you” moment, even though it might be ludicrous for a passage like this–teetering marvelously on the edge of verbose BS–to be uttered by anyone other than Augustus Waters.

I’m in love with you, and I’m not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. I’m in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we’re all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we’ll ever have, and I am in love with you.

Knocked me over when I read it. Well, I was lying in bed, but I sunk a little.