My worst book hangovers

book hangover (noun)

the difficulty of returning to reality after finishing a wonderful book

Everyone knows the pleasurable pain of finishing an excellent read. I can always tell when I’ve found a book especially touching, as I find myself clutching the copy to my chest, literally clinging onto it for a minute or two longer before the inevitable hangover hits. That awful emptiness is only ever because I know I’ve read something special and so here are some of my worst (or best) book hangovers: 

1) Gabrielle Zevin’s ‘Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow’

I’ll admit that I wasn’t expecting to love a novel ostensibly about the development of video games. Having never gamed myself, this book surprised me with its incisive take on romance, tragedy and friendship. Full of narrative quirks, shifting perspectives and metatextual moments, ‘Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow’ makes a profound comment on both the possibilities and difficulties of connection in an increasingly digital world.

It’s also a book that rewards the well-read, at times drawing you into a slightly pretentious complicity, with allusions to the literary canon littered throughout and even the creation of a game set in Shakespeare’s Globe.

The eternal nature of a video game, in which tomorrow always exists, makes a very clever backdrop for Zevin’s exploration of loss and grief. Her title, the opening of Macbeth’s famous speech on the transience and futility of life, is somewhat misleading though, as the book’s ultimate message seems to be keep playing and you might just get the ending you had once hoped for. 

2) George Eliot’s ‘Middlemarch’

I would defy anyone who has spent over 800 pages and consequently hours upon hours with Eliot’s characters to feel anything other than inconsolable at its conclusion. I cried when I finished it, not because I was upset by the ending, but because I simply couldn’t bear the fact that it was over.

Despite its length, it is the book I have reread most in my life, as Eliot weaves a tale of ambition, faith, love, grief and hope that never disappoints. See my full thoughts on ‘Middlemarch’ at the end of this post, if you still need convincing!

3) Philip Pullman’s ‘The Amber Spyglass’

Pullman’s His Dark Materials trilogy has long been my favourite fantasy series. Having first read Northern Lights as a 12-year-old (I remember distinctly my grandmother picking each book off her bookshelves during a long summer visit), its magic continues to captivate me to this day.

Pullman’s exquisite building of worlds upon fantastical worlds is only matched by his thoughtful commentary on society, philosophy, art, religion and love. The ache in my heart when I think about Will and Lyra’s bench is unmatched for me by any other moments in literature: a curious blend of sorrow, nostalgia and warmth.

I have reread the trilogy multiple times and can attest that the hangover effect persists each and every single time!

4) Charlie Mackesy’s ‘The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse’

Homesick and overwhelmed during my first term at university, I received this book in the post from my aunt. It came, ‘Alice in Wonderland’ style, with a note that said: “please please read this today”.

I have never read anything quite like it since. Mackesy’s gentle dialogues transform what could have come across as a series of motivational mantras into a truly affecting narrative, as his characters muse on the important things in life: love, bravery, honesty and, of course, cake.

Balanced by flashes of humour and exquisitely illustrated, ‘The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse’ is a beautiful book. I read it in one sitting and sat entranced when I was finished, wanting to stay suspended in its enchanting world forever.

5) Sarah Winman’s ‘Still Life’

By the time I finally picked up ‘Still Life’, I already owned three copies of it, such was the desperation of the book lovers in my life for me to read it; in fact, my aunt threatened not to speak to me again until I’d cracked the spine!

Bursting with warmth, humour and love, it was a magical read, whose characters will live in my heart forever. Just thinking about it makes me yearn to visit Florence, the setting for most of the novel, which becomes almost a character in its own right. If you haven’t read it, you truly must and I promise it is worth every second of the inevitable hangover.