"The Cancer Book"

A couple of months ago, when a friend was trying to remember the title of The Fault in Our Stars by John Green, she described it as “the cancer book.” John Green makes an effort to prove that people are much more than their health, but since most of the main characters have cancer, their disease is the main thing (and sometimes the only thing) that people notice. Why is this the case? Is it possible to write a book about cancer patients that’s not about their cancer? 

Let me just start off by saying that I’m not out to tear John Green to shreds. I genuinely like this book. It’s simple and sweet, leaving you emotional but not overanalyzing everything. It’s exactly what a young adult book should be, because it doesn’t intimidate kids or scare them away from reading for pleasure. 

But it could have been even better.

There are a couple of instances in the novel where you can clearly see Green’s efforts not to make it a “cancer book.” It’s not some melancholy, sappy story about the power of the human spirit, etc. It’s just about young love faced with terrible odds. 
There’s one particularly great piece of dialogue between main characters Hazel and Augustus that shows this effort, when they are first starting to get to know each other:

“‘So what’s your story?’ he asked, sitting down next to me at a safe distance.
‘I already told you my story. I was diagnosed when-‘
‘No, not your cancer story. Your story. Interests, hobbies, passions, weird fetishes, etcetera.’ 
‘Um,’ I said.
‘Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who becomes their disease.’”

This separation of the ‘cancer story’ and the ‘real story’ is a high point in the novel. Here, Green is making the statement that people are more than their health, and that they shouldn’t let disease swallow up their individuality. Hazel is quick to assume that the story of her disease is the most important one she has to tell, but Augustus reminds her that she has so much more to offer- that there’s a lot more to who she is as a person. 

Another part of the novel that tries to send this kind of message is Hazel’s encounter with a little girl in the mall. The child provides an innocent, fresh view of people whose disabilities are physically visible. Instead of making a point to try to ignore Hazel’s oxygen tank and cannula, she is curious and inquisitive, not tiptoeing around her. When the child asks, “What’s in your nose?” Hazel tells her, “it’s called a cannula. These tubes give me oxygen and help me breathe.” 

When the little girl’s mother notices what her daughter is doing, she scolds her, but Hazel assures her that it’s totally fine. Here, Green is highlighting the contrast between the perspectives of the child and the adult. The child has not become limited by social norms yet, so when she sees someone who’s a little different, she’s just curious. She doesn’t try to give her space or shy away from her. However, the mother assumes that Hazel doesn’t want to be bothered- that because she has an ailment, she has to be tense and careful around her. In Hazel’s words, “Any attempts to feign normal social interactions were just depressing because it was so glaringly obvious that everyone I spoke to for the rest of my life would feel awkward and self-conscious around me, except maybe kids like Jackie who just didn’t know any better.” 

However, though there are a couple of great, eye-opening moments like this, a majority of the book provides enough evidence to be correct in calling it “the cancer book.” There are many instances in the book that call attention to the “other-ness” of people suffering from the disease. 

The examples abound. 

When Hazel is a bit snippy with her parents, her mother tells her she’s being “teenagery.” As if that’s something odd and different, when in reality, she is a teenager, so acting like one shouldn’t be anything new. Just because she has cancer it doesn’t mean that everything “teenagery” about her is taken away. She falls into it, though, saying, “I can’t be a regular teenager, because I’m a grenade.” 
Disease is obviously a hardship, and I can’t even imagine how difficult it must be for Hazel to go about living her life with it. But it doesn’t make her an alien. She’s still a teenager.

It’s also hard to say that this book doesn’t call attention to the disease of its main characters when their cancer is responsible for all of the major plot points in the book (besides their falling in love, of course). They meet at a support group for cancer patients. They go to Amsterdam because of the Make-a-Wish foundation. There is conflict with this plan because of Hazel’s cancer. The turning point of the book is arguably when Gus reveals to Hazel that his cancer has returned. The emotional eulogy scene takes place because of Gus’s struggle. So though Green points out how messed up it is that we distance and ostracize people with disease, he is essentially writing a cancer book, because practically all of the book’s plot would not be possible if its main characters didn’t have the disease. 

But it’s kind of unfair to expect anything different. If the plot didn’t call attention to the ailments of its main characters, it would probably be just another young adult love story. It wouldn’t have stood out as much. 

It would be unfair for authors to never include ill characters in their stories, so I can’t deny how cool it is that cancer patients are getting this representation through Green’s book. After all, he doesn’t give cancer any sort of negative stigma; his cancer-ridden characters are smart, witty, charming, and compassionate. But on the other hand, it’s also unfair that a book about cancer patients has to call so much attention to their disease. You can’t really say that these kids live “normal” lives; they struggle to walk up stairs and do normal “teenagery” things like go to parties and hang out with groups of friends. Not to mention the more dramatic things, like the facts that they are treated to a trip to Amsterdam and that they have to worry about how much time they have left. Cancer is inevitably going to play a huge role in the lives it touches, but making it such a strong, controlling force, almost a third main character that’s always being acknowledged, seems like too much.

However, John Green obviously had good intentions, and he wasn’t trying to ostracize cancer patients. In fact, he calls society out on its “othering” of people who are different than them, so hopefully people can learn something positive from this book. It’s not perfect, but it’s a step in the right direction towards an open dialogue about disease. Hazel and Augustus may be physically fragile, but Green shows that there’s nothing fragile about their hearts, wit, or intelligence. Despite their physical weakness, they’re strong people. Perhaps that strength, not the weakness, is what we should be focusing on in this novel. 

Soundtrack: The Fault In Our Stars: Music from the Motion Picture