Hamartia

"My thoughts are stars I cannot fathom into constellations."

John Greene was absolutely brilliant when he completely disagreed with Shakespeare's quote from Julius Caesar: "The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves."  The author of The Fault in our Stars goes on to suggest the alternate philosophy that the fault, rather, lies in our stars.  And it makes sense, I guess.  In Julius Caesar, both individuals were suffering not because of their stars (in other words luck, fate, or destiny), but because of decisions they had made.  But in the novel, the pain and suffering the characters were facing were happening not because of their decisions or choices, but because of their "stars."  I think it is both, though, that the fault is in both ourselves and our stars.  We have the absolute choice to fix or make up for our flaws, or hamartia, as Hazel Grace describes it.  Furthermore, we can choose how we decide to deal with, react to, or handle the problems and obstacles this indifferent universe places in front of us.

So, obviously, I'm reading the book.  It's a very good book.  I must say, it is certainly better than the movie and if you're a reader, I'd definitely recommend it.  It fits the theory that the book (if written before the movie, as most usually are) gives you an unadulterated and full view of the story and you can get a more in-depth and precise look at the characters.

One thing the book does, that the movie does not, or at least not as much, is focus on Hazel Grace's tough decision on the entire issue of her being a grenade, and, as she puts, "trying to limit the number of casualties."  She has a concern that her death will leave a wake of destruction and harm all those who care about her.  It's funny, almost, because in the book, Greene wrote in a video gaming scene where Gus's in-game character throws himself on top of a grenade to sacrifice himself to do the same exact thing.  Maybe I am just drawing needless connections, like I usually do, but whatever.

Anyway, her fear is that when her body finally fails to fight the cancer in her lungs, she's going to hurt a lot of people when she leaves the world.  She was concerned about Gus being one of those "casualties," and she also understood that every single minute she spent with him was another centimeter deeper the pain would go when she dies.

It evinces her selflessness, I would say, for her to think not of the benefit of a relationship with him, but rather the consequences for Gus by going down such a path.   The ending of the novel, however, is actually ironic, and caught me off guard.  From Hazel Grace's perspective though, she was hoping to save Gus from having to go through the pain of losing someone he loves and cares about.  From Gus's perspective, I'd wager that he was refusing to let go of the most incredible person he had met thus far, and he was certain that his decision, with the pain and cloudy future inevitable, was the only decision he could live with, and the right one.  (God Bless awkwardly long sentences.)  Even more, he was willing to risk it and accept it if and when it happened.

He tells her, "You realize that trying to keep your distance from me will not lesson my affection for you.  All your attempts to save yourself from me will fail."  That's certainty.  Confidence.

I think we all run across a little scenario such as that.  I am dumbfounded because I am sitting at a fork in the road where I have a really difficult choice.  I suppose it isn't quite the same scenario as Hazel's where it's a question about if I can be selfless so the other person won't have to suffer through me dying.  Rather, I am concerned about being as unconditional as humanly possible and having to deal with a fair amount of pain, struggle, and anxiety, more like Gus.  And just like Gus, I am certain, and confident.   Just like Gus, I have a knack of taking pleasure in the finer things in life and marveling at everything.

He writes to the author of An Imperial Affliction, saying, "She is so beautiful.  You don't get tired of looking at her.  You never worry if she is smarter than you; you know she is.  She is funny without ever being mean. . . You don't get to choose if you get hurt in this world, old man, but you do have some say in who hurts you.  I like my choices."  He makes the conscious decision to allow himself to possibly get hurt.

During these little scenarios, if and when we get hurt, our cohorts rub it in and say, "I told you so."

And it all circles back to where the fault lies; in ourselves or our stars?  In Gus's (and I guess my commitment), the fault would indeed lie in himself.  It was his choice.  Old Willy was right in Julius Caesar.

Anyway, pardon my little digression.  I'll simply segue into the main purpose of this post.  (That's supposed to sort of be funny.) We can't save people.  I am slowly starting to realize and accept that little bit.  But we can impact them.  We can not prevent the almost disconcerting indifference of this universe from ruining situations or our hopes and dreams.  And sometimes your hamartia is something you are simply unable to do without or rid yourself of.

The coolest thing, I think, I got out of the book and movie was their focus on infinity.  Some infinities are greater than others.  I suppose if you didn't read or see it, you won't get it, so I'll explain, just like they did.  Between the integer one and two, there are an infinite number of decimals.  Between two and three, you could easily conclude there is the same infinite number of decimals.  But between one and three, there is more of an infinity than one to two or two to three.  Maybe that doesn't make sense.  And maybe it'd make more sense if I didn't spell out the numbers.  Anyway.

You can't save people.  Not from themselves, not from cancer, and not from death.  But you can choose to impact them.  Sometimes it takes acts of selflessness, making yourself vulnerable to a possible grenade going off, or letting your guard down and risking something awful.  But you have the choice to impact someone, leave fingerprints, and experience small infinities with them. I honestly don't believe these impacts and infinities are only possible in an romantic type of relationship, but everywhere.

In my life right now, I'm experiencing a minuscule infinity with hopes that it blooms into something greater.  Regardless of what my head tells me, I am just as certain and ready as Gus was.

My final point is an almost last quote from Augustus from when he first met Hazel.  She asks him why he keeps staring at him and he responds: "Because you are beautiful.  I enjoy looking at beautiful people, and I decided a while ago not to deny myself the simpler pleasures of existence."  And while romantic, I think it offers a greater point: breathe in while you can, and experience the amazing things and wonders of your relationships and this world before you, well, cease to exist.

###

“I'll fight it. I'll fight it for you. Don't you worry about me; I'm okay. I'll find a way to hang around and annoy you for a long time.”