❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎
Ninety-five days, and then I’ll be safe. I wonder whether the procedure will hurt. I want to get it over with. It’s hard to be patient. It’s hard not to be afraid while I’m still uncured, though so far the deliria hasn’t touched me yet. Still, I worry. They say that in the old days, love drove people to madness. The deadliest of all deadly things: It kills you both when you have it and when you don’t.
This is a much different take on dystopia than that to which I am accustomed. It is about a person more than a government, and the point of view leaves you floating instead of fighting, crying instead of cursing. The main character, Lena, is just as confused and excited as any teen falling in love for the first time, but there are no googly eyes and despite the fact that love is the basis of the book, her love story doesn’t want to make you vomit.
Oliver does something that I find refreshing – she focuses on different kinds of love. We fall too quickly in the assumption of romantic love, but there is the love between friends and the love in families as well, and they are all equally important. All of it is considered a disease.
At the end of the book, the story is only just beginning. I don’t love Lena, although I liked her “one true love,” but the idea and possibilities are enough to keep me reading more.
Color me intrigued.
A different dystopia. Interesting. And the story is just beginning.
I have a hardcover copy of this book that I bought from ThirftBooks.
“It has been sixty-four years since the president and the Consortium identified love as a disease, and forty-three since the scientists perfected a cure.”
Some of My Favorite Quotes
“I guess that’s just part of loving people: You have to give things up. Sometimes you even have to give them up.”
“It’s so strange how life works: You want something and you wait and wait and feel like it’s taking forever to come. Then it happens and it’s over and all you want to do is curl back up in that moment before things changed.”
“Love: a single word, a wispy thing, a word no bigger or longer than an edge. That’s what it is: an edge; a razor. It draws up through the center of your life, cutting everything in two. Before and after. The rest of the world falls away on either side.”
“Hate isn’t the most dangerous thing, he’d said. Indifference is.”