USA TODAY International Edition
There’s more to John Green’s ‘Turtles’ than youthful charm
It’s a powerful look at mental illness
There’s romance, friendship, melancholy and no shortage of quirky charm in Turtles All the
Way Down, so John Green’s latest young-adult effort falls squarely in his ultra-popular wheelhouse. Where the anticipated new novel differentiates itself, though, is as a thoughtful look at mental illness and a debilitating obsessive-compulsive disorder that doesn’t ask but makes you feel the constant struggles of its main character.
Turtles (Dutton Books for Young Readers; 304 pp.; eeeE out of four), Green’s first book since his 2012 phenomenon The
Fault in Our Stars, might not be his best, but it definitely feels like his most personal and passionate project. It’s part mystery, part love story and part coming-of-age journey, and it has lots of strife for a young woman who can’t help feeling like the sidekick of her own existence. As 16-year-old Indianapolis youngster Aza Holmes figures, “I was beginning to learn that your life is a story told about you, not one that you tell.”
The Holmes moniker isn’t coincidental: She’s a quiet high school Sherlock intrigued by the case of a local billionaire, Russell Pickett, who goes on the lam after charges of corruption surface. Aza and her “Best and Most Fearless Friend” Daisy Ramirez decide to investigate, since there’s a hefty $100,000 reward at stake for info on finding him. It also leads to a reconnection with Pickett’s son Davis, with whom Aza spent summer nights years ago staring up at the stars at “Sad Camp” for orphaned kids.
Aza’s heart still hurts from the death of her father years ago — she lovingly drives around his old clunker, named “Harold” — though she’s more crippled by what’s going on with her brain. She’s haunted by “thought spirals” and the irrational, obsessive fear she has of microbes and bacteria to the point where Aza can’t even kiss a boy without it turning into a crushing, internal freakout.
These intrusions not only affect every fiber of her being, but, as she grapples with her problems over the course of the story, it also becomes clear that they’ve deeply infected her relationships with those around her.
While Turtles doesn’t have the sharp tonal focus of Green books like the outstanding An Abundance of Katherines, it does boast clever one-liners (“Star Wars is the American religion”), insightful, witty dialogue and well-developed characters that are all hallmarks of the writer’s enjoyable teen-dream prose. Daisy especially is strong, a spunky sort full of non sequiturs who writes online Chewbacca and Rey fan fiction yet has more complicated feelings in the real world when it comes to her BFF.
Green expertly communicates the confusion and pain of Aza’s invasive thoughts, the way they spin out of control and their inescapable hold on her. But there’s also a neat depth to the way Turtles explores the definition of happy endings, whether love is a tragedy or a failure, and a universal lesson for us all: “You work with what you have.”