Paper Towns

I've heard so many great things about Paper Towns and have been waiting to read it and see if it is appropriate for middle school students.

I love books that feature mysterious and captivating characters (see: the parents in If I Stay) and Margo Roth Spiegelman is the epitome of those traits. As the novel progresses and the protagonist, Quentin, tries to learn more about his missing and beguiling friend, the reader becomes increasingly invested in the story. Author John Green is gifted at crafting relatable and realistic characters and the novel was hard to put down.

While I loved Paper Towns, I won't be ordering it for our school library. It skews too mature for my students; they won't be able to relate to Quentin's pre-graduation angst and there is enough cursing to raise an eyebrow from our conservative parents. Still, I recommend it to high school students and adults who love YA books.

According to Omnictionary, a Paper Town is a town that does not physically exist. What does that mean? According to Margo Roth Spiegelman, her home town of Orlando is a paper town populated with paper people, whose aspirations are paper thin. She has been trying to run away from her paper town for years, disappearing for days at a time and roaming the county. This time, it appears shes disappeared for good. Did she run off to a paper town?

Quentin Jacobsen has been in love with Margo Roth Spiegelman since they were young. Theyre next door neighbors and were constant companions. However, through the course of middle school and high school, theyve gone their separate ways, she to the cool side and he to the geek side.

But when Margo Roth Spiegelman disappears, it is after a night of adventure with Quentin as her co-conspirator. She gets retribution on her boyfriend who cheated with her best friend. She sneaks into SeaWorld after closing. She leaves her mark, a painted M, wherever she goes. But her disappearance causes concern and the longer she stays away, the more Quentin fears she might have committed suicide, replaying a suicide they both witnessed when they were ten.

Margo Roth Spiegelmans parents are oppressive. Upon learning of their daughters latest escape, they change the locks on their doors. She is no longer wanted. According to them, Margo Roth Spiegelman always left clues, however obscure they may be. This got Quentin thinking and, rallying the support of his friends Ben and Radar, and Margos friend, Lacey, they search for clues, trying to put themselves into Margos head.

There is so much good stuff in this book. The characters are great, every one of them, from those making rare appearances to the main characters. The mystery of what happened to Margo is engrossing. The things you learn about her as the book develops make her more and more real. The relevance of Walt Whitmans poetry adds a touch of class. The action is fast paced. The writing is great. And, who knew anything at all about paper towns, which apparently do exist. John Green is a great writer and his Looking for Alaska is another riveting book. Paper Towns might make it into my top 10 list for 2008. Get this book and disappear behind closed doors while you read it. You wont want to come up for air until youre done.

Congratulations, John Green. I will never be able to forget the name: Margo Roth Spiegelman. Repetition works.

Plot-in-a-nutshell:
Quentin, a self-proclaimed “well-adjusted” high school senior of middling popularity, is suddenly commandeered one night by his fascinatingly eccentric classmate and neighbor, Margot—asked to act as her accomplice in a series of delinquent acts of vengeance. Having been “in love” with Margot (or, let’s face it, simply infatuated with the idea of her and not knowing the difference) since grade school, Quentin reluctantly joins in her pranks and is eventually rewarded by quality time with the mysterious diva-of-deviousness. The next day, Margot disappears. Quentin quickly gleans the impression that she’s left a trail of convoluted proverbial breadcrumbs for him to follow. He does so, almost obsessively—with the help of a few semi-cooperative friends. But whether or not Margot wants to be found (literally or otherwise) is a recurring question.

For a book that’s often touted as road-trip centric, I was a little disappointed to find that the actual road tripping occurred in only the last few chapters. And the road-trip part wasn’t so much a planned adventure as it was a frantic act of impulse. Up until then, the plot could be described as a night of madcap pranks, followed by a long and angsty adolescent scavenger hunt. There’s lots of middle lag to push through. For a while you’re on edge, strung along by the fear that Margo has killed herself and she means for Q to find her body. But once that bit of morbidity is belayed and the mystery resumed, the pacing drops to sometimes dangerously put-downable levels.

At first I thought Margo was the fun kind of crazy. But after the first dozen chapters, I began to think she might be the Borderline Personality Disorder kind of crazy. I’m a little surprised, given both his parent’s backgrounds, that Quentin never considered if the erratic girl he was enchanted with might have a serious mental illness. Anyone who’s known someone like Margo is likely to find it even more difficult to sympathize with such a character. (I do and have, so I can’t say I wasn’t a bit soured toward the concept of her ahead of time.) High charisma blended with grandiose narcissism makes for an entertaining, yet ultimately malignant combination.

There was a good deal of this book that was relational—in which not a lot was going on outside of social ladder shuffling. Although, there was a moment where rampant teenage selfishness is not only acknowledged, but laid bare to the reader from multiple angles, courtesy of the ever level-headed Radar. (Radar actually stands out as the most interesting and balanced side-character—the anchor of reality and a perpetual source of intellect.)

Those who’ve read The Fault In Our Stars first will likely find it difficult to work up as much care and connectivity to this story—which, by comparison, comes off a bit shallow and philosophically indulgent.

One of the more meaningful themes of this book was the idea that people tend to make assumptions and jump to inaccurate conclusions about others—including those we should know best. A valuable thing for the target audience to chew on, no doubt. But I’m afraid the pacing combined with the bland, unsatisfying resolution makes this story stoop head and shoulder below some of Green’s other works.

Favorite quote:
"Nothing ever happens like you imagine it will… But then again, if you don't imagine, nothing ever happens at all."