The Anthropocene Reviewed: Essays on a Human-Centered Planet

There are times I find a kinship with Green. His focus on the right person, the right time, the beauty of snow, the desire to do very little on a trip. He loves to garden and found it soothing to his soul-so so I. But as many similarities exist-the differences are starkly harsh.

The writing is flawless-really beautiful prose and you can hear John Green’s voice throughout the pages. That’s the three ⭐️ ⭐️⭐️. But-and this is a big but-the negativity is sometimes overwhelming. The whining about America is off-putting, especially from a man that has made his fortune in writing books that sell as a result of capitalism. He seems to complain constantly and the only essays that have more than three stars are those that he has personal triumphs- as if that which doesn’t appease him is not relevant. While he does turn a phrase of that which is good in humans, they exist only to counterbalance what he’s written and they often feel forced-even trite. It’s as if to say-there is good in the world, but the bad far outweighs it.

There are a few good gems here and there, and a few essays of worth, but this book actually just made me feel sad for him and his inability to capture what is good in the world. I realize he wrote this during the pandemic, and the pandemic certainly challenged our world in away those of living have only read about in books, but for someone to write a line like, “For humans, uncharted territory is often good news, because our charted territory is so riddle with disease, injustice, and violence,” is a gross generalization of human history. And it pretty much put me off the book. Right up there with his comments about “white privilege and male privilege” as he writes as a white privileged male. I understand he wasn’t always, but he certainly is now and I don’t fault him for so I don’t get why he faults himself?

John Green is an excellent writer and this book won’t stop me from enjoying his prose or even showing some of his Crash Course videos in class (I’m a teacher), however, it greatly challenges my perspective of him and his views of the world. He seems to be a very sad man, and that’s unfortunate given that’s he’s living high in the hog in a country he deems so unfit.

Wonderful book full of essays about humanity. From Diet Dr. Pepper to this musing on "Three Farmers Going to the Dance" his observations are keen and beautifully written.

I loved his essay on the sycamore tree.

This isn’t a typical John Green novel, this is a collection of personal essays that take everyday things—like sunsets, viral videos, or even Canada geese—and review them on a five-star scale. But this book is about much more than rating the small details of life. It’s about being human in a complicated world, where joy and despair sit side by side.

Green writes with a mix of deep honesty and dry humor, bringing his own struggles with mental health into the conversation without making the book feel heavy. He acknowledges the way we avoid talking about the hardest things, writing, “There’s a certain way I talk about the things I don’t talk about. Maybe that’s true for all of us. We have ways of closing off the conversation so that we don't ever get directly asked what we can't bear to answer.” His reflections on depression feel painfully real: “Depression is exhausting. It gets old so fast, listening to the elaborate prose of your brain tell you that you’re an idiot for even trying.” But the book isn’t just about struggle—it’s also about finding light in the darkness.

There’s a thread of hope that runs through every page. Green doesn’t ignore suffering, but he also refuses to stop loving the world. “To fall in love with the world isn’t to ignore or overlook suffering, both human or otherwise. For me anyway, to fall in love with the world is to look up at the night sky and feel your mind swim before the beauty and the distance of the stars. It is to hold your children while they cry and watch the sycamore trees leaf out in June. When my breastbone starts to hurt, and my throat tightens and tears well in my eyes, I want to look away from feeling. I want to deflect with irony or anything else that will keep me from feeling directly. We all know how loving ends. But I want to fall in love with the world anyway, to let it crack me open. I want to feel what there is to feel while I am here.” It’s this perspective that makes the book so moving. Life is hard, and endings are inevitable, but beauty and love make it worth it.

And perhaps most comforting of all is Green’s reminder that while we can’t predict the future, it holds more than just pain. “You can’t see the future coming—not the terrors, for sure, but you also can’t see the wonders that are coming, the moments of light-soaked joy that await each of us.”

This book is a quiet, thoughtful reminder to keep looking up—to notice, to feel, and to love the world anyway. Five stars.

This book was a wild ride of thought-provoking and interesting content. Did I just read a book or scroll through John Green's TikTok page for 8 hours? Could have fooled me!

5 stars

Charming, reminiscent, pressing. Loved this so much.