Skip to main content

All the bright places


Theodore Finch is fascinated by death. Every day he thinks of ways he might die, but everyday he also searches for -and manages to find -something to keep him here and alive and awake.

Violet Markey lives for the future, counting the days until graduation when she can escape her small Indiana town and her aching grief in the wake of her sister's death.

All the bright places is a 2015 young adult novel by Jennifer Niven. Unlike what the cover conveys, it is not a mediocre teenage love story. 
All the bright places is a story about two damaged kids doing a school project, a story about a girl who learns to live from a boy who wants to die.

Finch and violet meets at the top of the bell tower at school, both considering to jump off. But somehow they both save each other from doing so.  
Later finch persuades violet to be his partner for their U.S geography-“wander Indiana project”. They explore every bit of Indiana before graduation.


The story is told through alternating formats between finch and violet which makes it more interesting because we can see the story from both perspectives.

I like the character Finch because he is unique and complicated. He has all these ideas going through his head and also he loves post-its. He always does the unexpected.

I can totally relate to Violet as 1.she loves to write 2.she ran a blog 3.other numerous reasons.

I really enjoyed the way their voyages to each destination are depicted, like the idea of taking a souvenir and leaving something behind, the idea of taking just a map and “wander-notebook” instead of GPS and digital cameras. 

The book takes somewhat a different perspective towards depression, a realistic one. People treat depression like some disease, just some pills and who cares. The thing is we can never really know what's going on inside someone else’s head. 

At the end of the story, we are only left with questions. Is world really that much cruel? Do every wound heal or does some of them leave scars behind? Can we ever know what's really going on someone else’s head? There's always this boy/girl whom everyone teases and talks garbage about. Have anyone ever thought what's it like to be them? How all that pain and hatred might feel?

Jennifer Niven had used simple but still eloquent language. Some of the dialogues, once you'd read them they'll never leave your mind. 

I can't say that this book might change a person but it sure will change our way of looking at the world.


We do not remember days
We remember moments.


    ***

 Images: Pinterest, gallery


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

മധുരയും കൃഷ്ണനും കലാമും

മധുരം മധുരൈ. ഇത് എല്ലാ പ്രാവശ്യവും പോലെ ഒരു സാധാ യാത്ര ആയിരുന്നില്ല. ഒരുപാട് നല്ല അനുഭവങ്ങൾ തന്ന , ഒരു ലോ ബഡ്ജറ്റ് ട്രിപ്പ്‌ എന്ന് വേണേൽ പറയാം.കുട്ടിക്കാലം തൊട്ടേ ഉള്ളിലുള്ള ആഗ്രഹമാണ് ഒറ്റയ്ക്ക്ഒരു യാത്ര. എന്നാൽ അതിനിയും നീണ്ടു പോകുന്നു. പുസ്തകങ്ങൾ  കൊണ്ട് നമ്മുക്ക് അറിവ് നേടാനാവുമായിരിക്കും, എന്നാൽ ചുറ്റിലും ഒന്ന് ശ്രദ്ധിച്ചു നോക്കി ഒരു നടത്തം നടന്നാൽ ഒരുപാട് കാഴ്ചകളായിരിക്കും നിങ്ങളെ കാത്തിരിക്കുന്നത്. അത് തന്നെ ആണ് ഈ  ലോകത്തിലെ ഏറ്റവും നല്ല യൂണിവേഴ്സിറ്റി , അവിടെ കിട്ടുന്നത് വില കൊടുത്ത് വാങ്ങാൻ കഴിയില്ല എന്നൊരു വ്യത്യാസം മാത്രം. :"നിക്ക്  നിക്ക് ..!!" :"എന്തേയ്!? :"കാര്യം പറയാതെ കാട് കയറല്ലെന്റെ ചങ്ങായി ....!" :"മറന്നു വെറുപ്പിക്കുന്നില്ല ...കാര്യത്തിലേക്ക് കടക്കാം ." വെറുപ്പിക്കുന്ന ക്ലാസ്സ്‌ ടൈമിൽ ഞാൻ  ഫ്രണ്ട് അജ്വദിനോട്   മധുരയ്ക്ക് കോളേജിന്റെ മുന്നിലെ  കിളികൊല്ലൂർ  റെയിൽവേ സ്റ്റേഷനിൽ നിന്ന് തന്നെ ഒരു പാസ്സന്ജർ ട്രെയിൻ ഉള്ള കാര്യം പറഞ്ഞു ....വീക്കെൻഡ് ആണ് വരുന്നെ ...വെറുതെ  ഹോസ്റ്റലിൽ ചടചിരിക്കുന്നതിലും നല്ലത് എവിടേക്കെങ്...

An unfinished poem.

I wake up and it's raining. It has been raining since yesterday midnight The night at which we told things we never told each other When we both stood at the edge of the cliff of our fires, Vulnerable. Alarm reminds me it's an hour past midnight and I should probably get some sleep. I say rain reminds me of you. You say I scare you sometimes by telling these kinda things. I sigh. Yes. My thoughts can be a little bit scary sometimes, Deep. You send me poems written on amber papers. Poems. Words. Is that what binds us? Poems about souls, men women holding cigarettes, Me, you, us. I say I wish I could hear you read 'em You want to know why I don't know. Silence. I admit I'm a hopeless romantic. You say that may make my life painful And you're drained of love and may break hearts. I remember Augustus Waters, I say It'd be a privilege. You say sometimes you don't like who you are. I say neither do I. Maybe it's not ...

Cadence of suffering

I am in pieces.  I can't think of anything good to do. I look into all these peoples faces and I wonder how they just go with them the flow. This has to get better. You lose pieces of your life every once in a while. You can either find a new piece or you can live a whole miserable, tedious life trying to retrieve that lost piece.  Life is a maze that you'll never be able to find your way out from. Love is a riddle that you'll never be able to find an answer for.  Yet you run, trying to find that exit door, looking for answers of rhetorical questions.  You know the path you chose is gonna get you hurt. But you can't turn back now because what else is there? We've all been there. That phase in life when you feel like everything is falling apart. That there's isn't a single thing you can do to make it alright.  Stephen Hawking said, ”However bad life may seem, there's always something you can do to succeed at it. Where ther...