The Perks of Being a Wallflower

The Perks of Being a Wallflower

by Stephen Chbosky

c. 1999

Pocket Books: New York

213 pages

"So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be." (page 2)

Jack had that quote in his profile for a while, it might still be there. I loved it when I read it there, out of context and away from the wonderful character that writes it, but I love it much more here embedded in the beginning of this wonderful book. And I love Jack for telling me to read it. I am going to steal that quote from Jack now, or at least make him share it. But now at least, I know where it comes from, so it's OK that at least a part of it is mine.

Jack was online talking to me when I started this blog, and he asked me that always dreaded question, "What are your top five favorite books of all time?" I hate this question because I am so moody when it comes to books. Some books are perfect in one moment, but unrelateable the next. I can be comfortable saying that Orson Scott Card's Ender's Game is my all time favorite, but that is mostly because I have read it so many times to be sure that I find it universally powerful. Other than that, I am always sure that I would be leaving something out. Books are like friends sometimes, or songs, there is a right friend to call on in every situation, a right song to make every mood bearable, but it is not always the same friend or the same song. Books are the same for me. To ask me to pick my five best friends or my five favorite songs would be equally cruel. I have enough love to go around.

But Jack said this was one of his favorites, and since I have very much enjoyed many of the other books on his list, and because he is Jack and I trust him, I went to the bookstore and bought it; thinking that if he was right in saying, "you can read it in a day," it would be a good airplane companion. (He was, it was.)

In this book, Charlie, throughout his freshman year in high school, writes beautiful, striking, naked, honest letters to someone he doesn't know. A journal with an audience that expects no reply, just understanding. He opens his first letter with,

"I am writing to you because she said you listen and understand and didn't try to sleep with that person at that party even though you could have. Please don't try to figure out who she is because then you might figure out who I am, and I really don't want you to do that... I mean nothing bad by this. Honest. I just need to know that someone out there listens and understands and doesn't try to sleep with people even if they could have. I need to know that these people exist." (page 2)

And I think that we all need that, that we all sometimes want that, to have an ear to listen and still be anonymous. To have someone try to understand without needing to know who you are. This is the essence of the blog in some ways. The explosion of blogs makes it clear that this is something of a cultural need.

Watching Charlie figure high school out is beautiful. He forms amazing friendships with an interesting group of seniors and gets special attention from a very involved English teacher. (It says he's TFA! Clearly someone read their curriculum about individualized instruction for advanced students...) This book is brutally honest about the development of these relationships, of Charlie's way of thinking about people, events, himself. Beautifully, painfully, relateably honest about the confusion that others cause in our lives when we just don't understand them, or when we don't know ourselves well enough to see what we want. A wonderful perspective on how sometimes, it really is easy to take advice too literally, to be too cautious, to stand on the sidelines and watch.

And that's sort of what you do reading this book. Stand on the sidelines and watch Charlie stand on the sidelines, (although most of the time he seems to imagine himself more guilty of this sin than his actions call for.) There are times when you want to outright cheer for him, times when you want to whack him upside the head, and times when you just want to hug him. The honesty of his letters have you seeing him as a friend by page 15. It's amazing.

Now for my one rant and one super specific but personally relateable moment.

Rant:

This book is "An original publication of MTV books." Now that in itself is not so bad. (If you can manage to put aside for a moment the "how the hell does the same group of people somehow behind both this beautiful novel and Jackass?!") What's bad is that I think that this deserves SO MUCH better than to be advertised as such. This novel is stunning, independent of the author's youth and apparent hipness. (His first film premiered at Sundance! He MUST be cool!) It should be grouped with, as it has been by reviewers, other acknowledged greats in the world of "coming of age literature" A Seperate Peace especially, it reminded me of Knowles in some ways from the very beginning.

Instead, it is included on a page advertisement at the back of the book with the huge boldfaced title Don't even pretend you won't read more. Other advertised titles include: Generation S.L.U.T. "A brutal feel up session with today's sex crazed teens" and A Hip-Hop Story "Words become powerful weapons as two MCs fight to be #1."

The one liner offered for this work of unguarded honesty is " Standing on the fringes offers a unique perspective on life. But sometimes you've got to see what it looks like from the dance floor." (Sounds like the tag line from a horrible teen movie, or even a bad action flick where the "dance floor" is a battleground to save the city. Enter Neal's movie announcer voice here: "One teen. One way. One de-sire!")

The facing page is headlined Your attitude. Your style. MTV Books: Totally your type. And includes Cruel Summer, the first in the Fast Girls, Hot Boys series!

I am offended for Charlie's sake. I feel that his dignity as a near perfect character has been reduced. That his struggle has been rendered mainstream and hip. His honesty has been commercialized. I am insulted for him, and for the author, who forgiving his "hipness" has produced something here deserving of something more genuine than this. It makes me angry, and I had to say something about it.

Super Specific Relateable Moment:

OR

This blog has become a blog about reading books about reading books:

Charlie says that his favorite book is always the one that he just read. I feel like I have something of the same mentality. While I don't love every book equally, or allow each thing that I read to eclipse those that came before it, I am not what you might call a discerning critic. I just love to read, and I just love books. Even books with things that really bother me, I enjoy the act of reading them, the world that they create, the way that they make me think. Even books that I can see have little to no redeeming value in terms of culture of literature or knowledge, or books with vapid and annoying characters. (Something Borrowed comes to mind.) I like them. I find something in them to enjoy, to make the time worthwhile. Often I can see the criticisms that others present, but that's not enough to make me say that a book is out and out bad.

For example: who liked Franzen's The Corrections anyway? It's EVERYWHERE or at least it was, but I don't know anyone that has anything all that wonderful to say about it. When Karen and Dan, who are the two harshest critics of that one, come up with all the reasons that they did not enjoy it, I can see their points. And while I did not think that it was worthy of all the praise that it apparently got from somewhere (was that somewhere Oprah?) I enjoyed it as I was reading it. While the whole was lacking, I found parts of it charming. Had I read it while keeping this blog, I would have found at least some nice things to say about it.

This is why I couldn't be a book reviewer, despite my reading speed and love of books and bookstores. People have frequently suggested that I could make a career out of reading that way, but I think that becomes more difficult when you honestly like the majority of what you read, and when you read fast enough, and obsessively enough to not resent time spent on less than perfect books.

Charlie's teacher tells him, when giving him The Fountainhead, "Be skeptical about this one. It's a great book. But try to be a filter, not a sponge." (page 165). Charlie ends his next letter with "The Fountainhead is a very good book. I hope I am being a filter." (page 167) That's me.

That being said, please remember that the only bad thing I even maybe had to say about this book is that MTV is marketing it in a way that is beneath it's worth. This is one that you really should read. Really.

"And all the books that you've read have been read by other people. And all the songs that you've loved have been heard by other people. And that girl that's pretty to you is pretty to other people. And you know that if you looked at these facts when you were happy, you would feel great because you are describing 'unity'" (page 96)

I'll finish this by saying a clear and loving thank you to the wonderful Jack for taking the time to recommend a good one. Sorry it took so long for me to blog it. I hope that the commentary is up to the standards of a book you hold so dear. I suppose that it probably can't be, but at least I tried. I loved it more than I can say here too I think.

And because there's no better way to end it,

"So if this does end up being my last letter, please believe that things are good with me, and even when they're not, they will be soon enough.

And I will believe the same about you." (page 213)