My (re)View: The Perks of Being a Wallflower - Chbosky

"I really think that everyone should have watercolors, magnetic poetry, and a harmonica."

   

                                                                     

The Perks of Being a Wallflower - Stephen Chbosky
Review: Natalie Rose                                                              

To slap a title such as “Teen Drama” on The Perks of Being a Wallflower not only restricts the novel but is condescending to the beautiful intricacy it is built from. Charlie has been carefully unwrapped for us to see, his thoughts and ideas don’t just trickle on to the pages but pour. His words consume our imagination and prickle the hardest of hearts as we sink into the novel and become enclosed in his world as reality is put on mute. His simple wording causes his thoughts to appear blurred and flippant on the surface, but with the conclusion comes a sharp poignancy that makes the reader tingle with recognition and heartache. Chbosky has born Charlie into a world which characterises him for his inability to participate in life and in turn, instigates curiosity, sympathy and sometimes distaste from those around him.

A bridge of warmth and understanding is built between Charlie and his teacher, who recognises Charlie’s inner workings and offers his guidance by suggesting novels whose hero mirror Charlie’s nature in some way. 

“Standing on the fringes of life… offers a unique perspective. But there comes a time to see what it looks like from the dance floor.”

There is the family trauma. There are also the high school tragedies, but it is impossible to ignore the disconcerting, troubling undertone which begins to unravel as the plot drives on but this is not what we are concerned with, this is not why we came here. The not-so-unique term ‘character driven’ does not justify the effect Charlie has on the reader. The complete engulfment of his matter-of-fact, philosophical perception is not just a door, open for the intrigued reader, but an immediate impact, like a siren in a sea of words and we are willingly chained to his voice of innocent truthfulness. 

"Things change. And friends leave. Life doesn’t stop for anybody."

The black humour does not lead to a dark and morbid novel but an inspirational, self-reflexive one. We are not invited, we have been chosen. We are not isolated wallflowers, we are Charlie. Yes, the novel is short, it is (technically) easy to read and it is about a young boy in his teenage years. Tick, tick, tick. It is also an emotionally complicated, helplessly endearing, sometimes nihilistic, sometimes encouraging, always engaging and never wooden, novel.

"I am very interested and fascinated how everyone loves each other, but no one really likes each other."

Chbosky slaps some Charlie-esque goggles on us and shoves us back into the big world, where we stand wide-eyed, open mouthed and perceptively changed. To read the novel out loud would feel too much like exposing a secret, the words too delicate they might break under our clumsy tongues. Chbosky’s ability to shape and word the mixed up, difficult and often irrational emotions we feel individual to ourselves in Charlie’s offhand, yet troubled, manner is stunning. 

"I don’t know if you’ve ever felt like that. That you wanted to sleep for a thousand years. Or just not exist. Or just not be aware that you do exist. Or something like that. I think wanting that is very morbid, but I want it when I get like this. That’s why I’m trying not to think. I just want it all to stop spinning."

The impact of the novel can be seen splashed across the internet, on the mouths of those few who have explicitly admitted the book has saved their lives, the schools banning it from their curriculum, and now the film. It is difficult to express how engaging the novel is, as well as the after effects of the thought-provoking notions and uncomfortable way it sits on your heart after finishing it. 

And in that moment, I swear we were infinite.