Revisiting Fallen: A Nostalgic Dive into Lauren Kate’s YA World
As I traversed the familiar but treacherous terrain of my teenage memory lane, I felt a magnetic pull toward Fallen by Lauren Kate—a title that defined the early years of my YA obsession. It’s funny how literature can dance through time with us, allowing us to grapple with past selves from the safe distance of the present. With COVID’s Twilight resurgence still fresh in my mind, I decided to plunge into this 2009 gem, ready to unravel the threads of nostalgia mixed with trepidation.
At its core, Fallen spins the tale of Luce Price, a seemingly ordinary girl shipped off to a reform school after a mysterious incident. Here, she meets Daniel Grigori, a brooding boy with an ethereal air who holds the key to her shadowy past—and a host of otherworldly secrets. As I retraced the entwined destinies of Luce and Daniel, I was struck by the themes of immortality, love, and the haunting specter of choices made long ago.
Yet, oh how the prose aged! Kate’s writing style oscillates between lyrical ambition and bewildering awkwardness. From gloriously flowery descriptions to cringe-inducing lines like “she was still trying to figure out… whether this shaven-headed guide standing before them was a man or a woman,” it was a dizzying ride. I found myself laughing out loud on occasion, partly at the absurdity, but also in recognition of those bittersweet memories from my youth.
Particularly poignant was a quote that succinctly encapsulates Luce’s struggle: "Physically, she was fine. It was just that in every other way—emotionally, psychologically, romantically—she couldn’t have felt more broken." It resonated deeply with me, echoing the tumult many face in the throes of adolescence. And let’s not forget the gems sprinkled throughout the narrative, like Luce’s chaotic love life playing out amidst grand myths and divine frustrations—a tale that plays more like an endless cycle of compounded heartbreak than a classic romance.
As I read, the inevitable question loomed large: what underpins Daniel and Luce’s supposed love? With six millennia of emotional baggage, their relationship feels less like a passionate affair and more like a desperate addiction, a “sunk cost fallacy” in the realm of love. Reflecting on my own experiences, I couldn’t help but correlate their tangled destinies with the way unhealthy attachments can trap us for years—filled with memories that carry the weight of past joy and unresolved pain.
Despite its flaws, Fallen still holds a certain charm. It’s an introspection into relationships, identity, and the complexities that ensue when youth meets timelessness. I found myself drawn back in by its melodrama, but also comforted by the shared understanding of its absurdity.
So, who would revel in this nostalgic journey? If you’re a fan of retro YA fantasy, revel in stories that explore love’s bewildering labyrinth, or find yourself terribly amused by the awkward prose of a past era, this is undoubtedly for you. Fallen stands as a paradox—both a painful reminder of youthful naivety and a celebration of the inevitable messiness of growing up.
Overall, picking up Fallen was like unearthing a vintage piece of costume jewelry—appreciate the beauty and laugh at the quirks, even if it’s not quite as shiny as you remembered. In the end, it’s still a treasure from a time I wasn’t ready to part with.