Paper Towns, by John Green
Green, John (2008). Paper Towns. NY: Dutton. 320 pages.
So I finally read John Green’s Paper Towns, after it seemed like everybody and her librarian had read and raved about it. And I have to say: I liked this third novel better than I liked Looking for Alaska and An Abundance of Katherines. I thought I was the last person who hadn’t read the Printz Award winner’s latest novel, but in case I’m wrong, here’s a brief summary. After eighteen-year-old Quentin spends an unbelievable (and chaste) evening with his next door neighbor, the popular, hopelessly cool but inscrutable Margo, the girl-next-door disappears. Although Margo’s parents wearily assure the police that their daughter is prone to running off and that she will likely return on her own, Quentin is less sure. When he begins to investigate Margo’s disappearance, Quentin is lead on a literal and literary quest.
As a mystery fan, I think that I enjoyed the “mysterious disappearance” element of this novel the most. Second to the genre appeal was my regard for the secondary characters in the novel, particularly Quentin’s best friends Radar, a self-appointed guardian angel for a Wikipedia-like website, and Ben, the broadly sketched horndog comic relief.
Much of the book is given over to Quentin’s consideration and interpretation of some of the artifacts and documents Margo left behind and that Quentin believes are clues to her disappearance. While I enjoyed the literal puzzle these clues provided, I was reminded of both Carol Plum-Ucci’s The Body of Christopher Creed (2000) and Gregory Galloway’s As Simple As Snow (2005). All three novels feature a “disappeared” teen who–in my opinion–proves a symbol of the narrator and protagonist’s disappeared youth and naivete. That both Galloway’s and Green’s novel feature a missing, mysterious, complicated and unattainable female character only strengthen the connection.
You’ve probably been waiting for me to start bitching about the trope of the missing girl and what would seem to be another (male) author’s devotion to the “manic pixie girl” stock figure. And yes, while I was reading the novel, I was sure that this would be a major point of contention. I’m happy to announce that the conclusion of the book (really the last quarter of the novel), was given to debunking this symbol and the possibility for this kind of interpretation, a feature that, to me, really saved the day.
Posted on January 14, 2009 at 10:14 am
Hey, Deborah! Thanks for writing. You know, I never thought about the existence of the manic pixie dream GUY before. Interesting switcheroo!
Posted on January 15, 2009 at 5:25 pm
Hi Amy!
I sort of hadn’t thought of the MPDGuy either until I read this book. I would get annoyed at Margo’s seeming perfection and grumble about what a high standard for women that the author must have, but I was enjoying the book so much otherwise. I thought of books I loved like The Truth about Forever or The Year my Sister Got Lucky (I read that one after reading your review and loved it). I loved the guys in those novels, but they and guys in similar novels, are dreamy artists/musicians/ or just all around understanding and sensitive guys that seem to exist only to dry the tears or conquer the fears or do something else worthy for the female heroin, and I thought, “maybe John Green isn’t the only one with high gender standards.” A MPDGuy seems fairly common to me in YA books, but still very rare to see in TV or movies, where it is very common to see the usual Manic Pixie Dream Girl.
(BTW — this is not meant to be a jab at Sarah Dessen, who I love!).
Posted on January 13, 2009 at 10:20 pm
At first I was getting the manic pixie dream girl vibe from Margo, and thinking to myself, “oh John Green, can’t you write a realistic female character?” But then I thought of all the manic pixie dream GUYS that I read about and love (ahem, all of Sarah Dessen’s male characters), and realized there’s plenty of manic pixie to go around in the YA world. I did like Margo a lot in spite of the pixie vibe, and I agree with you that the conclusion saved the day.