Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda

He pauses for a moment, and my eyes flutter open, and he smiles, so I smile back. And then he leans in to kiss me again, sweet and feather-soft. And it's almost too perfect. Almost too Disney. This can't actually be me.

(Albertalli, B. Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda. p. 276. United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland: Penguin Books, 2018).

  I really like this book. It made me laugh so many times, and it made me cry of happiness. This is the kind of book I wanted to read when I read The Fault In Our Stars back in 2012 which, to me, was more or less of a disappointment. But Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda certainly met my expectations.

  The first part of the book was somehow difficult to read because I was not sure I was enjoying the way things were developing. Falling in love with someone you do not know but only through e-mails seemed a little too avant-garde, I suppose. But the tension that the structure of the plot builds, together with the rewardingly pleasing falling action, made me immensely grateful that I read this book.

  Also, Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda gave me the opportunity to continue asking myself about my sexual orientation. And I thought it was somehow unfortunate that people had to "come out" and state their sexual orientation because it makes me think of sexual orientation as being a static object, as opposed to a dynamic one. What happens if you have already declared your orientation but soon afterwards change your mind? Do you have to come out again, this time as something else? I wonder how magical it would be if people simply assumed that everyone can fall in love with anyone, at any time. Maybe that is just me.

  By the way, Blue, I also used to love the first day of school. And it also had to do with school supplies.

Fahrenheit 451

This book was so easy to read. Perhaps as easy to read as Simon Singh's Fermat's Last Theorem. Which is enjoyable, because seeing how fast you read through the book can be satisfying.

  But the story that it tells, yet once again, makes me feel like most books are written by bibliophiles who believe knowledge is the key to humanity's greatness and success. It is at these times that I think of John Green's How Young Is History? video whose topic is, basically, that "the idea that History means progress is very new, like almost all of the 250,000-year history of humans looks more like a sine curve than an ascending line".
  Perhaps I like that video because, in my interpretation of its message, it coincides with my belief that we do not need to devote our lives to increase our rational intelligence to be happy, nor is that type of intelligence a prerequisite to have a meaningful and enjoyable life. My point is: I have heard people describe this book as one that tells about a dystopian future. But to me the idea of a society that does not read books, or that does not dedicate their lives to trying to expand the limits of knowledge, is not dystopian at all.