Day Three: Through the Tunnel

Well, I finished The Perks of Being a Wallflower. In all honestly, I gravely underestimated it. I had almost written it off as an over-hyped book that less than intelligent people try to pass off as "mind-blowing," like Inception. However, upon reading the book, I cannot emphasize enough how much it means to me. It perfectly captures the spirit of being in high school, of being in love, of being hurt, of being alone, of being accepted, of being sad. There were so many times that I stopped to ponder the last line, then read it again and just sat there. At a couple points, the book even brought me to tears. Before you begin to think that I've just been brainwashed into the Cult of Hipster, allow me to explain why it affected me so.
First off, it gave me nostalgia for the 90s. And I don't mean that in a "I miss Nirvana and when Clinton was President" kind of way, because I wasn't old enough to truly understand the culture of the 90s; what I mean is the wonderful sensation that was being an American in the 1990s. What this book captures so perfectly is the pre 9/11 world of my childhood--the world in which nothing could go wrong in the little worlds we lived in. There was corporate greed, sexism, environmental decay, racism, and all that punk rebelled against, but that was left to the radical thinkers and the outward artists. I miss the naivete of the late twentieth century, when I could play in the neighborhood without my parents fearing for my life. When life was a little simpler because it wasn't plastered all over the internet. When getting in touch with someone meant talking to him or her on the phone for hours, not shooting an occasional text. When music was real and emotional, and people made mixed tapes and still bought records and CD's because they truly appreciated an artist, not pirated songs from the internet because others wanted them to. That 90s--the 90s I grew up in. 
Secondly, even though the book is set long before my high school years, Chbosky perfectly encapsulates the social fears, tensions, and stresses of adolescence. What particularly touched me was his portrayal of Patrick and Brad. Patrick and Brad are what today's terms would simply call a "gay couple." However, Brad being the starting quarterback greatly complicates the relationship. There is even a subtle understanding that Patrick, the "open" one, isn't extremely open about his sexuality. Today, in 2011, I am openly gay; the book is set in 1991--the difference of two decades is monumental yet eerily constant. All throughout middle and high school, I was called names that still grate upon my eardrums, even though I had always identified as straight. Thus, the struggles of this couple to find honest and transparent love rang especially resonant with me, and the way Chbosky describes their relationship gives me hope that one day, I will find true love and all the exotic accompanying trappings of grief and complexity that every couple encounters.
Third: Charlie's mental afflictions are hauntingly similar to the psychological struggles I have been facing for the last few months--the panicky sobbing, the anxiety and over-thinking. The point at which the tears started forming in the corners of my eyes was a passage (on page 94). "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 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." Only someone who has been to the hellish depths of depression knows what this feels like. And I have. And I do. Too well.
Fourth: Charlie's relationship with his sister reminds me of my own relationship with my sister. The character does not resemble my sister in herself, but I relate to the situation--the desire to be close, the frustration in not being able to get close, the exhilaration when we are close.
As far as how this book has taught me about the wonders of hipsterosity, it would seem that a hipster has to have a certain sense of vulnerability and immense amounts of emotional depth. Especially after reading this book, I think I have that down pat.
Now that I have been way too open, I don't really know what to say. Except: I know why people quote this book on Facebook all the time, and I will no longer be irritated by that. There are countless gems of wisdom and meaning in this book, and I sincerely suggest that everyone who had a difficult high school career read this book.
Hopefully the next excursion is a little happier. I'll see you then.
Love always,
Tucker