Th1rteen R3asons Why
by Jay Asher
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17 + 321 in other languages
Lucy van PeltLucy van Pelt wrote a review
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Salvate i Giovani Adulti da questo "romanzo"
ho voluto leggere questo libro, istigata dalla serie tv, perché non avevo mai letto un libro targato "Y.A." (Young Adults). Ai miei tempi - sono vecchia - c'erano libri per ragazzi, per lo più classici, diciamo fino alle medie, poi era lettura libera, si andava a gusto o a fiuto o a consigli ma non c'era una "letteratura" rivolta appositamente agli adolescenti. Tutt'al più, c'erano i cosiddetti "romanzi di formazione", da Il Rosso e il nero al Buio oltre la siepe fino al Giovane Holden - e non credo proprio che oggi entrino nelle collane YA.
Ora, questo libro ha avuto un successo planetario, con tanto di serie tv al seguito, perciò ho pensato che fosse non solo rappresentativo della categoria, ma anche di un certo valore, magari anche letterario.
Sbagliato, sbagliatissimo. Prima di tutto è un libro brutto, scritto male, piatto e scipito. Non c'è tensione, non c'è empatia con i personaggi, non c'è un dialogo decente. La narrazione di Hannah suona falsa come una moneta da 5 euro, i commenti di Clay fanno venir voglia di prenderlo a schiaffi ogni tre per due. In secondo luogo è uno dei libri più noiosamente didascalici che abbia mai letto. Non è un romanzo, è un manuale sul bullismo (vabbè, chiamiamolo così, perché proprio di bullismo ce n'è ben poco in questa storia) e sull'importanza di essere amici e di aiutarsi a vicenda, e di imparare a chiedere aiuto.
E per finire, come scrive uno dei lettori su goodreads, fallisce persino questo lodevole (per quanto poco letterario) intento perché finisce per diventare una sorta di apologia del suicidio, con la protagonista che si uccide ma costruisce tutta questa complicata e totalmente inverosimile narrazione solo per dire agli altri, guardate che razza di stronzi che siete, mi avete spinto ad ammazzarmi. Tanto è inverosimile tutta la vicenda, che fino all'ultimo ho pensato che in realtà Hannah non fosse morta e tornasse a fare pernacchie a tutti, che almeno avrebbe dato un senso alla cosa.
Last, but not least - alla fine dell'edizione inglese c'è un'intervista (orribilmente prolissa, l'ho scorsa in diagonale) all'autore in cui, tra molte cose edificanti, si spiega anche che la protagonista si sarebbe dovuta chiamare Anna, ma poi Jay Asher ha scoperto che c'erano già troppi libri in cui una Anna si suicidava (immagino abbia letto il riassunto di Anna Karenina) e quindi si è detta, "Hey, give the Annas a break"... e così ha cambiato il nome. In Hannah. Ah, be', ecco.
Insomma, se questo è il meglio che l'etichetta YA ha da offrire (escluso Harry Potter, che Dio l'abbia in gloria, che almeno sono libri divertenti e ben scritti) vi prego, togliete di mano ai ragazzi sta roba e dategli dei libri veri, che sia McCarthy o Stephen King, Dickens o Stevenson o Jane Austen, Ammaniti o Conrad, e persino perché no Grisham, basta che siano romanzi, non roba programmata a tavolino per essere adottata come libro di testo nelle scuole. Orrore.
Cri1967Cri1967 wrote a review
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"Maybe I was being selfish. Maybe I was just looking for attention. Maybe I just wanted to hear people discuss me and my problems.
Clay is excited.
A package with no return address?
Who would send him a shoebox full of audiotapes? No one listens to tapes anymore.
Each tape has a dark blue number painted in the upper right-hand corner, possibly with nail polish. Each side has its own number. The last tape has a thirteen on one side, but nothing on the back.
"Hello, boys and girls. Hannah Baker here. Live and in stereo. I hope you’re ready, because I’m about to tell you the story of my life. More specifically, why my life ended. And if you’re listening to these tapes, you’re one of the reasons why. I’m not saying which tape brings you into the story. But fear not, if you received this lovely little box, your name will pop up…I promise.
Clay doesn't believe it. Hannah Baker kills herself.
Before she dies, she records a bunch of tapes. Why?
The tapes of a girl. A girl who, two weeks ago, swallowed a handful of pills.
Inside is a folded up map of the city. About a dozen red stars marked different areas around town.
“The list.” It sounds for Clay like a secret club. An exclusive club. And for some reason, he is in it.
“Why am I listening to this? I mean, why put myself through this? Why not just pop the tape out of the stereo and throw the entire box of them in the trash?
Because it’s Hannah’s voice. A voice I thought I’d never hear again. I can’t throw that away."
"I want to push Stop on the Walkman and rewind everything. But I can’t. You can’t rewrite the past. "
Hannah's past.
No one knows the truth about her life, her thoughts about the world are shaken.
Like driving along a bumpy road and losing control of the steering wheel, tossing you—just a tad—off the road. The wheels kick up some dirt, but you’re able to pull it back. Yet no matter how tightly you grip the wheel, no matter how hard you try to drive straight, something keeps jerking you to the side.
You have so little control over anything anymore. And at some point, the struggle becomes too much—too tiring—and you consider letting go. Allowing tragedy…or whatever…to happen.
She wants people to trust her, despite anything they’d heard. And more than that, she wants them to know her . Not the stuff they thought they knew about her.
No, the real her She wants them to get past the rumors. To see beyond the relationships she once had, or maybe still has but that they don' agree with.
"Will I ever get control of my life? Will I always be shoved back and pushed around by those I trust? ", she asks herself.
The longer Clay listens to those tapes, the more he feels he knows her. Not the Hannah from the past few years, but the one from the past few months. That’s the Hannah he is beginning to understand.
Hannah at the end.
What if other people could hear your thoughts? What if they could hear your thoughts…right now?
They’d hear confusion. Frustration. Even some anger. They’d hear the words of a dead girl running through her head.
"Maybe I was being selfish. Maybe I was just looking for attention. Maybe I just wanted to hear people discuss me and my problems.
Or maybe I wanted someone to point a finger at me and say, “Hannah. Are you thinking about killing yourself? Please don’t do that, Hannah. Please?”
Sometimes we have thoughts that even we don’t understand. Thoughts that aren’t even true—that aren’t really how we feel—but they’re running through our heads anyway because they’re interesting to think about.
If you could hear other people’s thoughts, you’d overhear things that are true as well as things that are completely random. And you wouldn’t know one from the other. It’d drive you insane. What’s true?
But you can’t get away from yourself. You can’t decide not to see yourself anymore. You can’t decide to turn off the noise in your head.

Esme❀ButterflyEsme❀Butterfly wrote a review
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PaoloPaolo wrote a review
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This turned out to be one of the most unsatisfactory novels I read in recent times. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure this is great and useful for anyone who has experienced situations similar to what is described in the book, which I suspect encompasses most young women and quite a few young men who are or have been high school students in the US. I'm sure it's also a great indictment of bullying and sexual harassment practices at that stage of life. That out of the way, I have to confess I found the novel terribly boring. The gimmick is immediately evident: a student commits suicide, and sends around tapes telling thirteen of her school acquaintances what role they played in pushing her to her early demise. The narration follows the verbatim narrative of the tapes, interrupted by the train of thoughts of the protagonist, who initially tries to figure out what role he might have played. This ends up getting old quite fast: the interruptions of overly sensitive narrator are often unnecessary, repetitive, and distracting, and it's obvious from the beginning that he is withholding information from the reader that would make the storyline even more predictable. What this really feels like, is a handbook for high school students, pointing out in detail how painful their mindless actions could be for others So what, you will ask? Like all books, this is surely needed by some, a terrible read for someone else. But there is something else that I find deeply disturbing: Thirteen Reasons Why presents suicide as the ultimate narcissistic act. I have done it, it's your fault, and I'm going to tell you all about it. But guess what: in spite of what many of us believe, the whole world does not revolve around our hurt feelings. Boys and girls might be more like particles randomly colliding into space, shaping each other upon impact, sometimes in good, sometimes in bad ways. Yes, it would be nice if everyone behaved with love and compassion. But let's face it: our reality is just not like that, in fact it might as well be governed by the law of unintended consequences. So, wherever and whoever you are, Clay, if you get a box of tapes in the mail, do yourself and the world a favor and chuck it in the trash.
EhrnaiderEhrnaider wrote a review
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