Book Review: Always and Forever, Lara Jean
From the moment I cracked open Always and Forever, Lara Jean, the final installment in Jenny Han’s beloved To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before series, I felt a potpourri of excitement and trepidation bubbling inside me. It’s hard to articulate just how much this series means to me, marinating in nostalgia and youthful sentimentality. Han’s stories kickstarted my reading journey, wrapping me in a cozy embrace of romance and coming-of-age, so it was with a guarded heart that I approached this last chapter. Would it serve the sweet, nostalgic cookie I was longing for, or would I end up with another metaphorical baking disaster, like my initial reread of the series?
The key themes of first love, familial bonds, and self-discovery are as vibrant as ever. Lara Jean, our charmingly awkward protagonist, is balancing the pressures of impending adulthood, the dread of college applications, and, of course, her complicated relationship with the enigmatic Peter Kavinsky. Though I found myself gritting my teeth at his immature antics (“can we just give him a personality transplant already?” was a recurring thought), I also marveled at how Han weaves the complexities of young love into relatable narratives. Lara Jean’s journey of finding her voice amid the chaos of adolescence and societal expectations felt genuine and raw, and yes—I often caught myself cheering for her, hoping against hope that she’d get it right this time.
Han’s writing style remains a comforting delight; her prose is warm, laced with humor and poignant details that make the world come alive. I could almost smell the fresh cookies Lara Jean so artfully bakes in her kitchen. The crafting of her world is unparalleled, saturating each page with vivid images of vibrant rooms and cozy family traditions. Yet, amidst these delightful illustrations and heartwarming moments, my gripes with the series lingered like stubborn chocolate chips: the high school drama felt overcooked, and the dynamics with side characters occasionally morphed unrealistically. But somehow, I found myself accepting these flaws as part of Han’s whimsical charm.
One of the noteworthy highlights was the presence of Kitty, Lara Jean’s younger sister, who continually steals the spotlight with her sass and wisdom that far surpass her age. Honestly, I would drop everything for a spin-off series focusing solely on Kitty! I cannot stress enough how much I yearn for her to have her own adventures, perhaps navigating the trials and tribulations of her teenage years with the same whimsical flair that Han brings to Lara Jean’s tale. If there’s any justice in the universe—or better yet, if Netflix is listening—Kitty’s series must happen, STAT.
By the end of this journey, as I closed the book for the last time, I felt an unexpected wave of sadness wash over me. I realized I was mourning the end of an era, not just for Lara Jean but for the space she occupied in my heart. So, to fellow readers, if you’re seeking a story filled with love, laughter, and a gentle reminder of the complexities of growing up (with a dash of baking magic), you’ll find it here. This series, flawed and beautiful in its entirety, has left a lasting mark on me, serving as both a nostalgic echo of my past and a beacon of hope for those uncertain about their future.
So grab your favorite blanket and settle in; you might just find yourself among friends waiting to uncover the promise of love and the joy of living it with a full heart and an open mind. And maybe—just maybe—consider joining me in demanding a spinoff for Kitty. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned from these pages, it’s that love stories can blossom from anywhere. Happy reading!
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