Book Review: The Midnight Library by Matt Haig
When I first stumbled upon The Midnight Library by Matt Haig, the premise captivated me instantly. A library between life and death, filled with books representing the various paths one’s life could take? As someone who often dreams of alternate realities (who hasn’t wondered, “What if?”), this setup felt like a literal manifestation of those musings. However, after turning the last page, I found myself grappling with some unsettling feelings.
At its core, the novel follows Nora Seed, a woman teetering on the brink of despair who finds herself in a curious space—a library filled with books that illustrate how her life might have played out differently. Each book offers a glimpse into alternate choices, reflecting on the universal human experience of regret. While I appreciated Haig’s exploration of themes like regret and the importance of choices, Nora’s character left me feeling frustrated.
Her relentless wallowing in self-pity—“That is just me. I add nothing. I am wallowing in self-pity”—is a sentiment that resonates with many but ultimately made her hard to root for. It’s one thing to empathize with a character’s struggles; it’s another to feel utterly exasperated by their inability to appreciate the beauty in their own life decisions.
Haig’s writing style is undoubtedly accessible, though I found it teetering on the edge of self-help territory. The lessons Nora learns are stamped in bold for every reader to see. At times, it felt as if the book intended to hold my hand throughout the journey, which might come off as patronizing. I longed for more depth in both the narrative and the characters; Nora often seemed like a flat character whose sole purpose was to explore the infinite lives she could’ve lived. The novel’s repetitive nature also became a point of contention. The same life lessons felt like they were hammered in again and again instead of evolving in a way that resonated.
While I believe in the power of positive thinking, I grappled with the book’s underlying implication that changing one’s mindset could be a panacea for deeper mental health issues. This notion, though well-meaning, feels disconcertingly simplistic in a world where mental illness is complex and multi-faceted. It raises critical questions about the narrative we weave around depression and personal responsibility.
Yet, not everyone may share my reservations, and it’s evident that many readers have found solace and inspiration within Haig’s pages. I can see this book resonating with individuals who appreciate a straightforward, hopeful message and don’t mind a hefty dose of introspection.
Ultimately, The Midnight Library was an experience that intrigued me, but the discomfort lingered. It left me reflecting not only on the choices I make but also on how narratives shape our understanding of mental well-being. For those seeking a heartwarming, if not occasionally frustrating, read about life’s possibilities, this might just be the book for you. As for me, I think I may need to shelve my journey with Matt Haig for a while and explore other literary realms.