After Nora Seed decides to take her life, she expected everything to fade to black and for it to be the end. Instead, she finds herself in the last place she expected: a library. The Midnight library is a place removed from time (clocks reset themselves to 0:00:00) that exists in the limbo between life and death and affords Nora the opportunity to view and experience all the other potential ways her life might have played out. (This hinges on a bit of a Butterfly Effect type phenomena, where making a different decision changes the outcome and, in turn, there are millions of volumes of potentialities for her life.) With all these options laid before her, Nora can jump into these books and see what her life would have been like had she made a variety of different decisions.
There’s a bit of a loophole where if she decides to try living a path and finds she is truly happy, she can stay and live that path out. (As a plot device, this seems to operate almost as an explanation for near-death, ‘saw the light but turned back’ type experiences.) But, if Nora spends too long in the library, unable to figure out the keys to true happiness, Death will come to take her and that will be the real, permanent end of life. I should note, there doesn’t seem to be a whole lot of rhyme or reason to when Death decides it’s coming for you, but maybe it has to do with the severity of the events leading up to being in the Midnight Library. (I’m still a touch unclear on that.)
So, as you might imagine, Nora begins exploring the different lives she could have lived and learns some valuable lessons about how what you thought might make you happy doesn’t always work out that way, gratitude, and finding happiness and joy in the things that really matter in life.
I picked up The Midnight Library because, simply, I wanted to see what all the hype was about. It’s a New York Times Best Seller, It won the Goodreads Choice Awards for Fiction the year it was released and it was shortlisted for the British Book Award’s “Fiction Book of the Year.” It was even a Good Morning America Book Club pick. All the bookish circles were buzzing about this book so I couldn’t not check it out.
I’ll say this first: Logically, I get the hype. This is a heartwarming book with a positive message and an inspirational tone. It hits the similar spot that It’s A Wonderful Life does (though this lacks the handsome face and distinct voice of Jimmy Stewart.) And it’s a quick read, both in length and in pacing. If it hadn’t come out during a pandemic, I could see this being a book people read on the commute to work or that sits on a bedside table to be read a chapter each night. It’s not hard to see why people of all ages were drawn to this book and it’s undeniable that it provides a beacon of light in the otherwise dreary world we are all experiencing in current times. It’s a nice, easily digestible book.
But, while I understand the hype, I have to say: I’m not on the hype train. I didn’t love this book. How could I not like a nice, easy book with a positive message? Mostly because it felt like a thinly veiled self-help book. I openly admit to reading (and enjoying) a surprising amount of self-help books, so I’m not throwing shade to that aspect, but that isn’t the kind of book I expected to find myself with when I picked this one up.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not against books that have a wholesome or positive message either. I think it’s wonderful to read a book with themes about appreciating life and the people/things around you. This book, however, pushed aside character development and plot, with the obvious agenda of teaching a lesson. To the point where, at a particular part of the book (under the pretense of a blog post written by the main character) this book just gets downright preachy — it seems to take a full on detour from the narrative to speak right to the reader. It holds the reader’s hand and tells them what they should be getting out of the story, rather than weaving a rich tale of a limbo between life and death and letting the reader come to conclusions on their own while Nora has her epiphanies. And, as harsh as it might sound, I think that is a disservice to an intriguing story idea and I think it’s a touch insulting to the reader.
In the last year, I have read several immersive, deeply moving stories with similar themes that have left marks on me without, proverbially, walking me up to the point of the story and forcing me to stare at it, Clockwork Orange style. Sweet Bean Paste by Durian Sukegawa and The People We Keep by Allison Larkin were both fantastic examples of appreciating the small things and people in your life, (I highly recommend both of these books.)
To wrap up my thoughts, I get why people like this one. But it’s just not a style I enjoy much and I would not feel compelled to recommend this book to other readers. For me, it feels like when you see a funny movie trailer, only to discover (when you watch it because you need a comedic pick-me-up), that it’s a heartbreaking drama. Both the book synopsis and the hype gave me an expectation about this title, but the book itself was a bit of a let down.
Blogger’s note: I am aware (and maybe a bit self-conscious) about the fact that this is the third book in a row that I haven’t loved. But it feels important to note that I select books I genuinely think sound interesting and read them in good faith. I do not hate read books in any capacity. On that same note, however, I do feel compelled to be honest about my reactions to the books I read and I think it’s important to read critically (as well as for enjoyment.) What turns me off about a book might be something someone else loves! My opinions are just my opinions.
With this blog, I aim to expand my reading horizons (and hopefully provide some insight for my readers, as well) with books from a variety of genres and writers and I acknowledge that they might not all be the right fit for me. So please know that streaks of “meh” books are not planned and, hopefully, aren’t the norm for 2022. Happy Reading!
