I’m suffering from a whopping Book Hangover this morning.
What is a Book Hangover, you ask?
A Book Hangover is that feeling you get after you finish a really amazing book. You might even have found yourself putting it down frequently near the end, just because you can’t bear the fact that it’s going to end. It inevitably ends and you feel a little lost. You’re then left with the knowing that you’ll never again be able to experience the magic of this particular book for the first time. You’re inexplicably saddened by the knowledge that whatever book you read next is never going to measure up, despite the fact that it might be an excellent book in its own right. But it won’t be a five star read simply because it isn’t THIS book? That’s a Book Hangover, and today I have it bad.
I just finished “The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue” by V.E. Schwab. I drew it out for a few extra hours, setting it down and trying to walk away, just so I could savor it, (and so it would not end). Eventually though, I just could not wait any longer to know what happened to Addie, and Henry, and even Luc. I am not usually a fan of magical realism, but this book defies genres. It’s an epic love story, a story of freedom and women’s rights, it’s a tale of travel and adventure, and it also has a few magical elements, all of which make it such a page turner.
This morning I’m missing the viivd descriptions of Addie in 1700s France and Addie in current day Brooklyn. I’m missing the yearnings all of us have to see and be seen. I’m contemplating all of the vulnerable time points in our lives where the anguish is so great we too would sell our souls. I’m missing the triumphant feelings of being remembered, and the achingly beautiful descriptions of being loved, and how disconcerting it feels to be loved, but not necessarily for being your truest self. Saying anymore would involve spoilers instead of themes, but if you haven’t read this one, I’m going to have to recommend that you do so!