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breedawnwriter's review against another edition
challenging
dark
hopeful
inspiring
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? N/A
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
“Sometimes there are moments when we objectively face the never, and it overwhelms us.”
When I read this book for the first time, I literally didn’t know what to do with myself. Neal Shusterman’s words had touched me so deeply, so honestly, that I didn’t know how to step back into a world that pretends mental illness is a myth. This book made me feel so understood, even though I only struggle with an anxiety disorder and not something as heartbreaking as schizophrenia.
That’s really the only way to describe why I love this book so much: it makes me feel SEEN. It makes me feel like mental illness is SEEN. It reminds me that there are still people out there who get it and understand and care.
“I know I have been a victim of many things beyond my control—but in this moment, in this place, here is something I have the power to choose. There are no miracles here, the parrot had said—but neither is there hopelessness, no matter what the serpent wants me to believe. Nothing is inevitable.”
Reading it a second time, especially aloud, only emphasized my feelings. It sounds cheesy, but there really is something truly powerful about this novel. Caden is such a beautifully written character because not only is he incredibly – INCREDIBLY – flawed, he allows the reader to explore how devastatingly, how painfully, human he is.
How devastatingly, how painfully, human we all are.
And how possible it is to crawl back toward the light and the blue sky when Hopelessness and the Abyssal Serpent watch inches away, ready to devour you the second you give in and whisper that you can’t go on.
Caden Bosch is a fictional representation of the battles fought every day by those with mental illness.
I’m not going to lie, there are times when this book would be far too painful to read. It’s dark, gritty, and dives straight to the murky depths of the ocean that is Mental Illness. But in that murky depth there is power. There is meaning to be found. There is healing and the strength to move forward in the darkening trenches of Challenger Deep.
There is the acknowledgement that just because you’ve won a battle, doesn’t mean you’ve won the war. Neal makes it painfully obvious that this is a battle Caden will fight long after the final page is written.
But there is a lingering hope that resonates in the cracks long after you’ve closed the book and returned it to your bookshelf.
When I read this book for the first time, I literally didn’t know what to do with myself. Neal Shusterman’s words had touched me so deeply, so honestly, that I didn’t know how to step back into a world that pretends mental illness is a myth. This book made me feel so understood, even though I only struggle with an anxiety disorder and not something as heartbreaking as schizophrenia.
That’s really the only way to describe why I love this book so much: it makes me feel SEEN. It makes me feel like mental illness is SEEN. It reminds me that there are still people out there who get it and understand and care.
“I know I have been a victim of many things beyond my control—but in this moment, in this place, here is something I have the power to choose. There are no miracles here, the parrot had said—but neither is there hopelessness, no matter what the serpent wants me to believe. Nothing is inevitable.”
Reading it a second time, especially aloud, only emphasized my feelings. It sounds cheesy, but there really is something truly powerful about this novel. Caden is such a beautifully written character because not only is he incredibly – INCREDIBLY – flawed, he allows the reader to explore how devastatingly, how painfully, human he is.
How devastatingly, how painfully, human we all are.
And how possible it is to crawl back toward the light and the blue sky when Hopelessness and the Abyssal Serpent watch inches away, ready to devour you the second you give in and whisper that you can’t go on.
Caden Bosch is a fictional representation of the battles fought every day by those with mental illness.
I’m not going to lie, there are times when this book would be far too painful to read. It’s dark, gritty, and dives straight to the murky depths of the ocean that is Mental Illness. But in that murky depth there is power. There is meaning to be found. There is healing and the strength to move forward in the darkening trenches of Challenger Deep.
There is the acknowledgement that just because you’ve won a battle, doesn’t mean you’ve won the war. Neal makes it painfully obvious that this is a battle Caden will fight long after the final page is written.
But there is a lingering hope that resonates in the cracks long after you’ve closed the book and returned it to your bookshelf.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Medical content, Mental illness, and Schizophrenia/Psychosis
Moderate: Cursing, Bullying, Suicide attempt, and Suicidal thoughts
Minor: Alcohol
orcamagicka's review
adventurous
dark
emotional
hopeful
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
5.0
I randomly picked this book up in a library when I was in middle school and started reading it near completely blind to what the plot was about. Seven years later and I have not forgotten this story, and every now and then am reminded of it.
An outstanding, poetic, hauntingly beautiful, perspective-shifting story on mental illness and personality disorders. Pick it up and just take the plunge into Challenger Deep.
An outstanding, poetic, hauntingly beautiful, perspective-shifting story on mental illness and personality disorders. Pick it up and just take the plunge into Challenger Deep.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Forced institutionalization, Mental illness, Suicide, and Suicide attempt
Minor: Alcohol
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