Book Review: Everything, Everything by Nicola Yoon
I picked up Everything, Everything by Nicola Yoon with a mix of curiosity and a hint of trepidation. After all, a story about a girl confined to her home because of a rare illness could easily veer into melancholy territory, but Yoon’s vibrant storytelling promised a compelling journey. And let me tell you, it did captivate me, even leaving me with a swirl of conflicting emotions that linger long after the last page.
At the heart of the story is Madeline Whittier, an eighteen-year-old girl who has never stepped outside due to her Severe Combined Immune Deficiency (SCID). This premise sets the stage for a novel that beautifully explores themes of love, risk, and the yearning for freedom. It’s astonishing how Yoon captures Maddy’s world, rich with imagination and longing. Upon meeting her new neighbor, Oliver, Maddy is thrust into a whirlwind of emotions that challenges the boundaries of her isolated existence.
One of my favorite aspects of this book is Maddy’s introspective nature. "I keep picturing myself floating high above the earth…" she reflects, encapsulating her desire to break free from the constraints that bind her. It’s such a relatable expression of wanting more—more experiences, more love, more life. I found myself rooting for her as she navigates her feelings for Olly, who is equal parts charming and humorous. Their connection unfolds with a refreshingly authentic ease that makes even the most ardent cynic believe in "insta-love."
Yoon’s writing style, filled with poetic prose and moments of levity, kept me engaged throughout. The pacing was just right; it allowed me to savor the sweet, heartbreaking moments without feeling rushed. Quotes like, “Is it always like that?” followed by Olly’s response, “No, it’s never like that,” linger in my mind, reminding me of the transformative power of love.
However, amid the beauty of their budding relationship, I found myself grappling with Maddy’s mom. At first, I admired her fierce protectiveness, but as the story unfolded, I grappled with feelings of frustration and anger towards her. Her decision to shield Maddy from the world—including from Olly—felt stifling rather than protective. It drives home the point that love, even when well-intentioned, can sometimes be misguided. The complexity of their relationship added depth to the narrative and highlighted the painful question of parental control versus personal freedom.
Despite my mixed feelings, I ultimately found Everything, Everything to be a thought-provoking page-turner. It’s a story that prompts reflection on love, risk, and the courage to live fully. While I craved more clarity in certain aspects, I appreciated Yoon’s ability to evoke such strong emotions.
For readers who enjoy contemporary young adult fiction that thoughtfully explores intricate relationships and the complexities of life’s choices, this book is a must-read. It reminds us that everything is a risk, including the choice to love. As someone who reflected on this story long after I finished it, I’m grateful for the experience. How fitting that a book about breaking free could leave me feeling so liberated yet contemplative at the same time!
In the end, Everything, Everything is more than just a tale of illness and romance; it’s a celebration of life’s unpredictability and the risks we take to truly feel alive.