Freaking awesome. Stephen Chbosky uses laughably simple English in his acclaimed novel, which is not a criticism btw. Not when I could finish reading 1/3 of it while my children were preoccupying themselves at the newly opened Lego shop at Northpoint.

It’s the second time I’m reading this, and I don’t remember how dark and depressing it is. Stephen doesn’t hold back any punches. His protagonist, Charlie, is suffering from the trauma of losing his favourite aunt aggravated by the suicide of his best friend. He then gets acquainted with some seniors and picks up smoking and drug-taking consequently. I love this because it’s just such raw and honest and introspective writing, but I don’t know if my occupation allows me to recommend it to impressionable teenagers without fear of their parents complaining about the “inappropriate” subject matter.

I like it better than “The Catcher in the Rye”. Charlie may feel that his world is spiralling out of control, but I don’t think that he is being whiny or self-absorbed. His unflinching vulnerability keeps me riveted throughout the book as I journey alongside him, observing how he meanders through this unpredictable beast called life.

Despite its depressing undertones, this book actually makes me feel great at the end of it. (Later, you’ll find out that Charlie was sexually abused by Auntie Helen as a kid. Just how shitty Charlie’s life is.) Yet, despite all this, Charlie keeps himself together, resolving to “participate in life” (advice given to him by his English teacher), be a “filter, not a sponge” (more advice given by the said teacher), and strive to be “infinite” (okay, this is like his lingo with his seniors, Sam and Patrick. Not all his influences originate from his teacher). Great mantras to live by.