Book Review: Turtles All the Way Down by John Green

The overwhelming, gut-wrenching feeling that something is horribly wrong. Your mind, ceaselessly convincing itself that you made a fatal mistake somewhere along the line. All of your irrational thoughts and fears seem to be manifesting themselves right before (but in reality, behind) your eyes. Your mind constantly travels faster than the speed of light, and you feel at kin to your thoughts: they have complete and utter control over you. This daunting prison for a mind is reality for the protagonist, Aza Holmes, in John Green’s Turtles All the Way Down. The antagonist? Her severe anxiety and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. In my humble and unprofessional opinion, Turtles All the Way Down is an appreciable read, but I find myself unsatisfied with the ending.

Overall, the story is a look into the life of the aforementioned teenaged Aza Holmes. The exposition gives details pertaining to her relationship with her best friend, Daisy, her life at home, and about her late father. The first person narrative gives the reader an insightful look into the depths of Aza’s head, and how she tries to conduct her life with OCD. She gives a very raw and personal description of a form of her thoughts: “I have these thoughts that Dr. Karen Singh calls ‘intrusives,’ but the first time she said it, I heard ‘invasives,’ which I like better, because, like invasive weeds, these thoughts seem to arrive at my biosphere from some faraway land, and then they spread out of control” (Green 45). It becomes evident in not only this excerpt, but also the entirety of the novel, that Aza uses biology and the inner-workings of the human body to deflect her compulsions.

The action arises when the subplot is introduced: Aza and Daisy catch wind of a missing billionaire, who just so happens to be the father of Aza’s childhood best friend, Davis Pickett. As Daisy and Aza search for leads and clues as to where Mr. Pickett hides (so they can collect the $100,000 reward), Aza contacts Davis and they quickly divulge into an interestingly philosophical, romantic relationship.

Where the book went wrong for me was within the last ten pages. After John Green perfectly crafted a climax that made the reader truly feel the pain and anxiety that Aza constantly battles, the ending of the novel felt like a slap in the face.

SPOILER, DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO SPOIL THE ENDING

Aza doesn’t manage her OCD. She never finds a good balance of medication or a coping mechanism to find relief. The book simply ends, and the main message stands as “oh well, life goes on.” I guess I can appreciate how realistic it is, and how her relationship and love for Davis couldn’t magically solve her mental illness, but I wish Green gave the reader at least A LITTLE peace of mind or hope that Aza manages her OCD and anxiety at some point. But alas, the story just ends.

Ultimately, I did like the book, despite its lackluster ending-- but I guess I can learn to accept it, as it highlights the basic truth that life isn’t perfect. If you are interested in young adult, realistic fiction about personable characters fighting internal battles, I’m sure you will find this to be a very valuable read.