I flip the page to the next chapter, titled “Diet Dr Pepper.” I laugh, remembering the soda’s inclusion in the book’s prologue. I look up and to my right and see a can Diet Dr Pepper on my desk. I stop laughing.
If you asked, I would say I’m not a particular fan of essays, as a genre of book. I developed this fear of the compilation novels watching every book review of a poetry, essay or short story collection end with “Some of them were really good, but a lot were also really boring. I give this book three stars.” That’s how every chapter ends in The Anthropocene Reviewed: with a number rating. Early on, after reading a prologue that seemed rather cynical about the nature of “out of five star” scores, reaching the rating in the last sentence of an essay sounded like a guillotine falling. But as the book progresses, itā¦changes. It feels less damning and more loving, the system of logic that defines our affection for life. In summation, it’s cutesy.
Still, Green appears to have hit on something deeper here. A very particular, entertaining niche that I think was also a vague presence in his earlier fiction work. What this is hard to quantify: random trivia backgrounded by emotional volatility? The melding point of STEM and the arts? The end of capitalism? Whatever it is, I remain of the opinion that the world should allow Green to hammer at this idea ad nauseum until he’s empty of anything else to say. Finally, we have found the best use of our John Green.
Reviewed by Margaret D.
