I need to talk about Go Ask Alice
I finished it about thirty minutes ago. Reread the ending like five times and rushed to the internet to find some solace in the depressing swamp I just stumbled out of.
First: Fuck this book. Second: Fuck this book. Third: I’m kind of an idiot.
I have the remarkable ability to really set my logical brain aside when I’m reading a story or really into a movie or TV series. It’s why only after I’ve read a book and set it down for a bit that I can then see the shitty plot and characterizations. Or glaringly obvious hints that the book isn’t actually a real diary.
(I did question stuff, but I’m good at brushing it off to continue on with the story. I don’t question until the thing’s over.)
But fuck this book, man. The ending seems relatively nice and like “yay, I’m happy things are working out” and then the epilogue just pops in like “Hey! Fuck you! Bitch dies!” and runs out the door cackling.
From a fiction standpoint it just doesn’t flow. I hate misery porn and that’s what that ending was. I’m so mad about it. I don’t even care that the book’s a fake. I felt for this girl and then she dies for no reason? God, I’m angry.
I’m 31. I’m not into drugs because they never seemed worth it. Weed’s okay, I guess. (Cue scandalized gasps from all the potheads I know) I’m settled and fuckin’ old now so this book had no lessons for me. In fact, it just hurt me. My very best friend growing up is recently clean form being a heroin addict. One of my very good friends is in denial about being a coke addict. My mother grew up in the times that the book was written in and did all the drugs (she has a “fun” story of having a bad trip because her cousin kept yelling at her for not giving her a bit of the acid.)
Reading this was like getting a look into who the people I care about could have been and then getting a kick in the face.
I don’t know. I just had feelings.
Fuck this book.
