Recently I read Paper Towns by John Green. Since I was so hooked to the book that I finished reading it in a day, I decided to watch the movie based on the book. 20 mins into it I realised that the movie was unarguably terrible. Please don’t watch it if you’ve read the book. *Issued in public interest* I won’t pass too much commentary on the holes in the book, and I don’t mean that literally. But one must give it a go.
What I was particularly struck by, in this book, was that there were numerous references to the poem ‘Song of Myself’ by Walt Whitman. Incidentally, I had studied parts of this poem as a part of a poetry course that I am taking. I wanted to blog about the poem, but it wasn’t until now – until after I had read the book by John Green. Suffice to say that Song of Myself is massive. I mean, go on, Google it and see what you get. There are 52 sections to this poem, and boy, Whitman must have been feeling so unbounded when he wrote it. The poem is collected in a book called Leaves of Grass. One must read Song of Myself, or since we are mortals, we must read parts of it. It must become imperative literature. My poetry class has opened up horizons about education and how it should rather be done. It has also cemented what I already knew – the arts are the only way to make a life, everything else is making a living. I must say I am pretty excited about every class I take.
What I have loved about Song of Myself is that it came to me twice. For I had forgotten what coincidences meant, what signs meant. Song of Myself has reminded me. It has got my adrenaline up. Reading Paper Towns was a similar experience; I could feel the excitement of the characters who go across the country following clues left behind by an eccentric girl. There’s blood pounding inside me, after all. It responds to adventure. It responds to poetry. It responds to creativity.
Anyhoo. Back to where I started – Paper Towns must be read. And horrible movies about decent books must not be made.