The Fault in Our Stars, in detail
Hazel Grace Lancaster is sixteen, has thyroid cancer that has spread to her lungs, and attends a cancer support group mostly to appease her parents. There she meets Augustus Waters, a seventeen-year-old former basketball player with osteosarcoma who is currently in remission. Their relationship — smart, funny, literary, and unsentimental about what both of them are actually facing — is the engine of a novel that sold over ten million copies and became one of the defining young adult novels of the 2010s.
What John Green is doing in The Fault in Our Stars is harder to dismiss than its YA classification might suggest. The novel takes mortality seriously — not as a backdrop for romance but as the actual subject. Hazel and Augustus are not Hallmark-movie cancer patients; they argue about whether a life needs to leave a permanent mark to matter, they worry about the people they'll leave behind, and they are angry in ways that don't resolve neatly. The novel's central philosophical question — does it matter if no one remembers you? — is borrowed from Peter Van Houten, the reclusive novelist they both worship, and the encounter with Van Houten is one of the better structural choices in the book.
Green writes in Hazel's voice, which is witty, self-aware, and occasionally too perfectly constructed for an anxious teenager. The novel is self-conscious about language and literature in ways that will appeal to readers who like their fiction to notice what it's doing, and irritate readers who find that pose mannered. The romance itself is affecting and handled with more delicacy than the marketing might suggest — Green is not interested in using illness as a cheap emotional shortcut.
This is a book that earns its tears but earns them honestly. Readers who resist YA categorically are usually surprised by it; readers who expect easy comfort will be frustrated. The comparison points are not other cancer novels but books about mortality and meaning: When Breath Becomes Air, The Year of Magical Thinking. The question Green asks — what does a life add up to, and does scale matter? — is a question for all ages.
The big ideas
- 1.
The novel's central argument — that a life doesn't need to leave a permanent mark to have mattered — is taken seriously rather than resolved glibly.
- 2.
Hazel's anxiety about being a 'grenade' who will hurt the people who love her is one of the most specifically observed emotional notes in the book.
- 3.
Augustus's preoccupation with heroism and legacy is shown as both touching and adolescent — the novel is clear-eyed about which of them has the more honest relationship with death.