Looking For Alaska

John Green

John Green has been one of my favorite authors for a while now. I discovered him a few years ago after first finding his vlogs on Youtube. It was weird, finding an author on the internet like that, but when I first read Looking for Alaska as a high schooler, I was hooked. From that first book, I was drawn to John Green’s writing. He writes for “young adults,” yet he never writes down to us like some other YA authors tend to do. He touches on deep topics and has faith that his intended readers will understand what he is trying to say.

Looking For Alaska begins with the main character, Miles Halter, transferring to a new school. We learn right from the start that Miles is a bit of a quirky guy; he excels in school, but he also has the odd obsession of memorizing the last words (literally last words, right before they die) of famous people. Because of this, he really wants to find his "Great Perhaps," as said by Francois Reskjdhg -- a famous poet and author. Miles transfers to this new school, Culver Creek, which also happens to be a boarding school in pretty much the middle of nowhere, in hopes of finding his "great perhaps." At Culver Creek, Miles becomes a part of an odd group of friends that consists of Chip, Miles's roommate; Alaska, the girl Miles has a crush on; and Takumi and Lara, who round out the group. They've flocked together because they're sort of rejects, but because of this, they are strong. Each character has his or her own strengths and weaknesses that are fleshed out throughout the novel and are complimented by the others. They spend most of their time together growing close, pulling pranks, and getting into trouble. Somewhere along the way, Miles is pretty sure he's fallen in love with Alaska, and Miles, for the first time in a long time, is happy.

But one night - Alaska is in a car accident and dies - leaving all of her friends to grieve and wonder if her "accident" was truly was an accident or if she did it to herself. 

Warning: Spoilers Below

As I suspected, finishing Looking for Alaska this time around was emotional; I always get emotionally attached to the books that I read. When I last read Alaska, I was a sophomore in high school, and I remember feeling this intense connection with the book. I think I was fascinated by how much I related to Alaska as a character because it kind of scared me.

I had a rough time in high school. With everything going on at home, most of my time was devoted to trying to distract myself so I wouldn’t have to think about anything bad. I dove in to schoolwork and joined marching band and theater, and between the three, I had little time to let everything that had happened and was happening sink in. Like Alaska, I had become a pro at putting on a good face; I was energetic and funny most of the time. But sometimes I would break and self-destruct; I would show up to rehearsal sobbing or out of nowhere I would have to excuse myself from class to throw up and break down in the bathroom. From time to time I just stopped talking for a few days and was stuck in that state, dragging myself from place to place. Sometimes people would notice and ask me about it, but I would just say, “I’m fine. Just tired” and no one would ask again.

Alaska was like that too. She would break down and have “moody fits” (like Miles called them) out of nowhere, and then refuse to talk about it, the next day pretending like nothing had happened. She had self-destructive tendencies (smoking, drinking, impulsivity, ect.) and I did too, though they were different from hers. We both had trauma in our past that we felt guilty about and ashamed of. We both blamed ourselves for things that were not our fault.

Until this reading of Looking for Alaska, I had convinced myself that Alaska committed suicide. Because I identified with her so much, I had convinced myself of her suicide because it was what I would have done. I hadn’t realized that was the reason until recently.

My junior year of high school, I had a plan. I had a date. I had the pills. I had broken too many times and isolated myself to the point where I thought no one would have noticed if I just poofed away. Then – Mary, a friend I had grown up with, committed suicide. That was when I learned what it was like on the other side of Looking for Alaska – to be grieving like Miles and Chip and the rest of Alaska's friends - and I realized that I couldn't go through with my plan and put others through that. I felt the intense pain of losing someone I once knew and loved. I went through the questions. “Was there anything I could have done?” “Why?” “Where is she now?” And the misplaced blame. “It’s my fault. You should have been in touch with her more often. You could have helped her.” I felt like Miles and Chip. I wanted answers. Answers that, ultimately, I would never find.

The ambiguity regarding Alaska’s death reflects so much of life itself. There will always be unanswered questions - things that can’t be known or understood, no matter how much it pulls on one’s conscious and how much one wants it. Even though it sucks and is one of the hardest things to accept … life goes on. None of us will probably ever understand all we wish we could, but we will survive. 

We can make it though.

Wounds heal over time. They never go away completely. Rather, they become scars that act as faint reminders of the past.
But when those wounds have yet to heal, that can be the toughest - when we can't do anything but cling to those around us and hope, together, the pain can subside.

“When adults say, 'Teenagers think they are invincible' with that sly, stupid smile on their faces, they don't know how right they are. We need never be hopeless, because we can never be irreparably broken. We think that we are invincible because we are. We cannot be born, and we cannot die. Like all energy, we can only change shapes and sizes and manifestations. They forget that when they get old. They get scared of losing and failing. But that part of us greater than the sum of our parts cannot begin and cannot end, and so it cannot fail.” - John Green

I'll leave these here, just in case. Don't be afraid to call if you need - they're really nice and there to help....
- Crisis Help Line – For Any Kind of Crisis: 1-800-233-4357
- National Adolescent Suicide Helpline: 1-800-621-4000
- Some info about grieving