My Book of Regrets Does Not Include Reading ‘The Midnight Library’
And, trust me, I have many regrets
Between life and death rests a library. Or an art gallery. Maybe even a car park. Or, if you are from the 90s, perhaps a blockbuster video store greets you as you float between this world and the next. In Matt Haig’s fantastical reality, death does not immediately succeed death, but rather a timeless universe in which a person faces their regrets and has infinite opportunities to explore what could have been.
Each book – or portrait, movie, et cetera – represents a possible life that the person could have lived had they made different choices. Until their time runs out, as they have either died in their “root” life or escaped, visitors, have complete freedom to jump in and out of their infinite lives, exploring which choices led to the greatest happiness.
Nora Seed, The Midnight Library’s protagonist, arrives in her library after committing suicide. She's struggled with depression her whole life and had a particularly rough day: her cat died, she lost her only piano tutoring client, her ex-fiance will not stop texting her, and it's raining for the millionth time in England. In her personal midnight library, an important figure from her past greets her; this person acts as the librarian, challenging Nora to erase her regrets, read about as many of her possible lives as she can, and, as any good reader should, reflect on the material.
Nora's could-have-been lives are incredibly exciting: an Olympic swimmer, a glaciologist, a rock-star, a pup-owner, a mother. Each life fascinates her and feels superficially fulfilling, but neither life satisfies her– why?
This central question guides the plot of The Midnight Library. At times, this causes it to read like a philosophy novel or self-help manual, yet it held my interest because it read like stories within a story with all of Nora’s different lives. By presenting possible lives, Haig played with my emotions and forced me to ask tough questions.
This section includes spoilers– read at your own discretion.
Personally, the beginning of the book felt like nothing special; if it was not for the foreshadowed suicide, it could have been renamed "Nora Seed and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day."
After her eleven o'clock overdose and midnight library arrival, my interest spiked to a minute degree. I had an inkling that Nora would, ultimately, resurrect by the end of the novel.
Studies on suicide survivors tell us that if one can stand to wait, the urge to commit suicide passes. Further, the whole notion that Nora falls into an almost-mortem timewarp would read like a high-grade Wattpad story: girl commits suicide, finds out life is worth living, dies anyway to show one should live their life. Nora Seed had to survive to answer Haig's central question: why live if life often leaves us unsatisfied?
My interest soared by the time Nora opened the first book and fell into her first possible life. Now here was a story! In her first possible life, Nora married her ex-fiance Dan, and they pursue his dream of opening a pub in the English countryside. Immediately, my feelings for Nora shifted from pity to envy. She had an abundance of things I want: a husband, her own home in England, and trivia night superiority. But, as we all rationally expect but emotionally ignore, things were not as shiny as they seemed. Dan was moody, a cheater, and a mild alcoholic. Additionally, opening a pub had in no way been part of Nora's ambition.
Despite these pitfalls, I wanted Nora to find satisfaction in this life– it seemed so good! But she did not. Devoting oneself to another wholly does not bring one satisfaction. For me, this was not an earth-shattering lesson. My mother, TV shows, and observations constantly remind me of this.
In another life, Nora is a rock star. This sounds farfetched; however, she was in a local rock band in her root life and turned down the opportunity to record an album due to her anxiety. Here, however, she pushes past her fears and embraces this once-in-this-lifetime chance. She becomes madly successful, wildly rich, and beloved by millions. Haig uses this opportunity to promote the old adage that money cannot buy happiness. Along the way to fame, Nora's old manager manipulates her, loses her brother to addiction, and is forbidden from eating sweets.
Admittedly, this life still sounds slightly glamorous, like something akin to a modern-day Daisy Jones and The Six. However, out of all of Nora's lives, Haig explored, I was really rooting for Nora to find satisfaction in this one (until her brother died, then I sighed acceptingly).
As I mentioned earlier, none of the concepts Haig explored were new to me. I have struggled with depression throughout my life; Either through my own thoughts or through therapy, I have reflected on the concepts Haig discusses. People cannot inherently bring one joy. Money cannot buy happiness. Stability does not equate to satisfaction. It is much easier to glorify a particular choice if it goes unmade.
Though these revelations left me yawning, I still enjoyed hearing them from another person's perspective. For me, I can never have enough reinforcement of these concepts.
Furthermore, I really appreciated how Matt Haig did not shy away from exploring depression in The Midnight Library. He really seems to get it. By "it", I mean Haig understands living with clinical depression for one’s whole life; the shame of constant reliance on antidepressants; the isolation mental illness concocts in families; the self-constructed box of limitations one creates for themselves; and, of course, the endless regrets.
After marinating in these heavy concepts, I could not help but wonder what my own midnight library would be. As a bibliophile myself, would it be a library? Or, as an animal-lover, a pet store? Maybe, as a frequent traveller, I would awake in a midnight airport, catching flights and feelings as I explored my own infinite possibilities?
What do you think your own midnight library would be?
