Looking for Alaska - my thoughts
When I first read Looking for Alaska twelve years ago, I enjoyed it but I missed or forgot about a lot of its deeper meanings. Now I am twelve years wiser, and was able to see many of the themes that I had overlooked.
As a high school junior, I was naive enough to think my own small struggles were my labyrinth. But after experiencing some of life’s more unfiltered truths, I realized the book carries so much more significance.
Miles never really got to know Alaska, despite wanting her. Whether it was Alaska his attempts to act nonchalant when she called him adorable, Miles could never admit to anyone (not even himself) that he had a huge crush on her. He created a separate reality in his mind where they could be together. Even after her death, Miles was still conflicted about discovering what really happened, because the truth might hurt. The certainty of living in fantasy became more desirable than facing reality.
But as long as Miles lived in denial, he would be stuck in the labyrinth.
But Miles’ labyrinth is more than just unreciprocated love, but rather his fear of actually seeking out his Great Perhaps. When Alaska flirted with Miles, he went into deep thinking and fantasy mode, rather than actually being in the moment. He frequently uses his knowledge of literature as an escape, preferring to overanalyze last words rather than live life. In a way, Miles experienced life vicariously through the Colonel: because Miles was too shy, introverted, and scared to face life’s truths and he needed someone more adventurous and braver to do it for him.
Alaska’s labyrinth consisted of her overwhelming guilt and grief over her mother’s death. She carried the emotional burden silently; while she showed her cheerful and adventurous side to Miles, inside she was broken and always reverted to her self-destructive tendencies. Unlike Miles, who, at the end decides to face his feelings and navigate the labyrinth, Alaska’s conflict remains unresolved, trapping her.
The main difference between Miles and Alaska was how they navigate the maze of life. While Miles was able to finally walk through it with confidence (in the end he writes himself out of the labyrinth), Alaska let the walls close in on her.
My interpretation of the ending is twofold: First, Miles was able to accept the joy and the pain that constituted life itself, and his first year at Culver Creek was indeed his Great Perhaps. Second, Miles accepted the labyrinth as a permanent condition rather than something that one can solve once and for all. He accepts what has happened as it is, and what remains unresolved as permanently unresolved. No more sugarcoating or fantasyland, just raw life.
In a way, no one ever truly escapes the labyrinth. There's always some struggle or conflict—with friends, acquaintances, coworkers, family, or internally. You escape what you think is the labyrinth, only to find yourself in another, realizing the one you escaped was contained within the larger one.
"After all this time, it still seems to me like straight and fast is the only way out—but I choose the labyrinth. The labyrinth blows, but I choose it."