Friday “Why?”: Why is John Green obsessed with boys who are obsessed with girls, and why I am obsessed with knowing if boys like his books too?

Today’s Friday “Why?” was originally going to be, Who puts a big picture of a girl’s face on the cover of their book that seems like it’s directed toward teenage boys?

But then Anita Miller gave me the opportunity to ask John Green this myself over at her blog. Thanks, Anita!

The exchange:

Q: Did you or your publisher worry that by having two of your three book covers feature girls you would be limiting your audience to female readers?

A: Yeah, I think we both worried about it. But with “Paper Towns,” it’s very hard to look back and feel anything but total elation, because the book has done so much better than anyone expected, and I think the cover designs helped. There will be a different, more gender-neutral cover for the paperback, and I think we may move toward repackaging “Katherines” as well in a more post-gender way. The problem, to be frank, is that publishers believe (and to an extent their evidence is unassailable) that 16-year-old guys do not purchase books. Now, I’m all for marketing to guys and convincing them that books make a better investment than (say) video games. I believe that all of us who love books and work with teenagers need to be out making that case every way we can. But I don’t really buy the argument that the only reason guys don’t buy books is because book covers don’t do a good job of appealing to them. So I think we have to take a broad focus in our outreach to male readers (which is a big part of the reason why so much of my creative work is made for youtube).

So, answers to my question above:
1. John Green does, that’s who.
2. Who says these books are directed toward teenage boys anyway?

On the latter, I see the point — even as I was writing the question I thought, I bet it’s all girls and women reading John Green’s books — it’s just that they still seem like such boys’ books to me. Part of this is the kind of alpha nerdiness that I’ve spent my life being angry is considered a male trait; but part of it, like I wrote about in my AN ABUNDANCE OF KATHERINES review, is that he seems to really get male friendships. And I can totally see why reading about that appeals to females, because it does to me, but if teenage boys don’t also enjoy it, then that’s kind of sad, isn’t it?

I actually think the point about YouTube outreach is really fascinating. And, in fact, it’s how John Green got his start. * His own quirky, nerdy personality is what really comes across in his writing. The thing I always feel reading his books is that — while they don’t always fully work for me — I think he has an immensely enthusiastic fan base because he is speaking to an audience and a set of experiences that are not necessarily otherwise well represented in teen fiction. And they seem to me very gendered male experiences, but now that I’m thinking it through, I wonder if it’s actually girls to whom having those experiences represented in fiction actually appeals most strongly.

But yeah, so my new question: Why are all John Green books about a boy who’s obsessed with a girl (and discovers himself through the process), and is he going to keep that up?

* Tragically, I have not yet been able to watch this, because something is wrong with the my crappy computer-You Tube interaction. When I say this is tragic, it’s because I love YouTube more than anything else in the world after butter and my best friends.

An abundance of Katherines; a dearth of Colin

I really, really wanted to love AN ABUNDANCE OF KATHERINES.

My John Green kick started when a blogger whose writing advice I really respect raved about LOOKING FOR ALASKA. The next time I was having a really bad day, I bought myself a copy as compensation. Then promptly dropped it in a slush puddle, which actually did not improve my mood one bit.

But I liked that book quite a lot, so I started Green’s second book, AN ABUNDANCE OF KATHERINES, not long after. And kept reading it, very slowly, for a couple of weeks. I’d wanted to love it, and yet I did not.*

The problem is with Colin, our protagonist.

His deal is that he’s an uber super genius worried about not living up to his potential who keeps getting dumped by girls named Katherine. He whines about this a lot. He whines about not living up to his potential with a mournfulness that can only be achieved by those who, despite all protestations, really do believe deep down that even though they may never live up to anything, their status as a genius is impervious to all such evidence, even though on the surface that’s precisely what they’re denying. And he whines about getting dumped by Katherines with a persistence that is true to life, but not necessarily to conventions of good fiction.

When Colin has his “Eureka” — the epiphany that one’s probability of getting dumped in any particular relationship can be derived mathematically, a “theorem” around which the rest of the book will be built — I was so disengaged that I somehow missed the point, and was quite confused when he kept talking about this “Eureka” over the next several chapters.

Also, because I am in fact an even bigger geek than Colin, I will tell you that what this book is really about is the dangers of statistical overfitting.

Some "functions" should not be fit

Anyway, at first I thought the problem was compounded by Green’s use of third person narration, an unusual choice in young adult fiction. But I think that’s actually symptomatic of Green’s own failure to fully get inside Colin’s head.

Over on his own website, Green says that each one of his books starts with a strong mental picture of a character. For AN ABUNDANCE OF KATHERINES, that character was Colin’s best friend, Hassan. Interestingly, for LOOKING FOR ALASKA, it was also not the protagonist; Alaska, the character Green organized the book around, is a girl the protagonist, Pudge, is kind of obsessed with. But whereas ALASKA worked, KATHERINES, in my view, doesn’t quite — maybe because the reader is drawn into Pudge’s interest Alaska, whereas part of Colin’s problem is that, for much of the book, he actually is too self-involved to think about Hassan that much at all.

The thing, though? Hassan really is a fabulous character.

He’s a religious Muslim (so rare, except in books where that’s the whole point, like Randa Abdel-Fattah’s DOES MY HEAD LOOK BIG IN THIS?). He’s also totally crude, a damn good friend, and deeply hilarious. The times I like Colin are when he and Hassan are riffing off each other, and when Colin seems like he actually cares about his friend.

John Green really does know how to write friendships between boys; in particular, I like that he lets you see their genuine affection for one another without having them descend into sentimentality — or, if one ever does, he’s sure to get shit for it from the other.

Like, check out this scene, a turning point for Hassan’s character:

[Hassan's speaking:]

“…I’m a total non-doer. I’m just sucking food and water and money out of the world, and all I’m giving back is, ‘Hey, I’m really good at not-doing. Look at all the bad things I’m not doing! Now I’m going to tell you some jokes!’ “

Colin glanced over and saw Hassan sipping Mountain Dew. Feeling that he should say something, Colin said, “That’s a good spiritual revelation.”

“I’m not done yet, fugger. I was just drinking. So anyway…”

… and the scene goes on, but isn’t that a really well-done way to break up a heavy moment between teenage boys?

Sherman Alexie wrote in the ABSOLUTELY TRUE DIARY OF A PART-TIME INDIAN about how straight boys’ friendships are distorted by homophobia; John Green makes me feel the really heartfelt, intense emotions that teenage boys can nevertheless feel for one another. It’s a hopeful thing.

All this meant that I started really getting into the book in the middle, as I started to really believe in Colin and Hassan’s friendship. But — and I must now attach a spoiler alert, although I don’t think what I’m about to say will actually ruin much of the experience –

Sadly, the ending is really lame.

John Green seems like a big nerd who would be really awesome to hang out with.

– Not only wrapping things up too patly for my taste, but doing so via every character taking life-changing inspiration from the Kindest Factory Owner in the World. You can’t see me, but I’m still rolling my eyes.

In a way, I liked the book itself less than it convinced me I would really, really like John Green.

I keep reading his books less because I like them, than because I think he could grow into an author I really, really love.

* It’s a bit like this one particular cafeteria at my school. It’s a beautiful space, with tons of sunlight — no mean feat in “high of -12″ Wisconsin — and I always want it to be good, and it just… isn’t. What’s somewhat remarkable is that it has such a wide variety of food, all of which is bad. I vacillate between being impressed at the thoroughness and consistency with which it snatches mediocrity from the jaws of pleasantness, and just being regretful.

Also: there is something wrong with my higher-order inductive faculties; every time I’ve eaten there, I’ve made a mental note to order something different next time, but I’ve never internalized the conclusion that I should just eat someplace else.