Top Five: Books That Make Me Cry

Reading makes me happy, but that doesn't mean all books do - and that's not necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes, it feels good to just have a cry. Aside from that, it's wonderful to be so involved in a story that it really makes you feel - even if those feelings aren't always warm and fuzzy. A good story, well-told, has the power to make you experience all kinds of emotions, and if something moves me to tears, it means I've had a great read, if not a great time. Here are the top five books that have left me a blubbering heap of despair (in a good way, of course)...

1. Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro. Oh my goodness, this book floored me. I was a wreck not just at the end, but all the way through it. Telling the story of three friends whose fate was already decided even before they were born, it's a devastating tale of love and loss. It's beautifully written, but an extremely intense - and at times excruciating - read. The worst (and best) part is that you kind of know what's going to happen, and getting there is wonderful and awful all at once. It's one of the best books I've read (and one of the best movies I've seen) this year.

2. The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger. Henry has a disorder that causes him to time travel uncontrollably, complicating all aspects of his life - especially his relationship with his wife, Clare, who first met him as a little girl on one of his trips through time. What I found most interesting was the idea that Henry and Clare had no choice but to love each other - when they each met the other for the first time (Clare as a child meeting adult Henry in the "past", young adult Henry meeting young adult Clare in the "present") the other is already in love with them (adult Henry with his wife Clare, young adult Clare with the Henry who has visited her all her life). It's this lack of control that is the most frightening aspect of the story, especially as - like with Never Let Me Go - you get closer and closer to what you suspect is going to happen. I devoured this book in two days, and when I finished it I literally sobbed for about half an hour.

3. The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. You go into a story set in Nazi Germany (narrated by Death himself, no less) knowing it's not exactly going to be all sunshine, rainbows and lollipops. But The Book Thief surprised me by how whimsical, beautiful and even delightful it was. Which, of course, just made the inevitable sad parts all the more heart-wrenching. I read it over a year ago now and I still get that punched-in-the-gut feeling when I think about certain parts. But it's the wonderful characters that stay with you more than anything; from the book-loving thief of the title, Liesl, to her cheeky, caring friend Rudy, to her abrasive-but-loving foster mother Rosa and her quietly heroic "papa", Hans. This is one of those books that I nag everyone to read - so if you haven't, go do it. Now.

4. Little Women by Louisa May Alcott. It's a cold, cold person who can make it through Little Women - the classic tale of three remarkable and one extremely annoying four remarkable sisters - without crying. I always know what's going to happen, but it gets me Every. Single. Time. As soon as Beth goes to the Hummels, that's it, I can barely continue reading through my tears. Why couldn't Amy have gone instead?! I mean, er...

5. Checkers by John Marsden. I read this when I was about 11 or 12, and it's the first book that I remember really crying over - like, really crying. Told in flashbacks by a teen girl in a psychiatric hospital, the events that led her there - involving her beloved dog Checkers, her dad and the state government - are slowly revealed, with heartbreaking results. I revisited it again years later, racing through it in a matter of hours - and was still utterly gutted by the end of it. While I haven't read it in awhile, I'm still haunted by its contents whenever I catch a glimpse of the cover on my bookshelf.

What books have really made you cry?

Image via I Can Has Cheezburger

Review: Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro

This was both an easy and extremely hard read.

It was easy because it's superbly written and compelling. I couldn't put it down and got through it in two sittings – if you don't count the number of times I had to set it aside for a few minutes, just to catch my breath. It was very, very hard at times to keep reading in anticipation of the distressing events to come.

We’re told at the beginning that the setting is “England, late 1990s", but you immediately know that there’s something unusual in this England, with the casual mentions of “donors” and “carers”. The narration is set up as a kind of conversation between the protagonist, Kathy, and the reader, so there's an assumed knowledge of her world and her place in it. Of course, we have no clue, but it infuses the slow build to the big reveal(s) with a kind of dread as we, like the characters as children, have been "told, but not told".

The plot centres around Kathy’s relationship with her two best friends, Ruth and Tommy, and their complicated love for each other, made even more delicate by time - when it’s wrong, when it passes, and when it’s very, very limited. The characters seem very much aware of the shadow of time looming over them, but that doesn’t stop them from making mistakes, from hurting each other, and from holding back from what they want. For all their love and creativity, these things, more than anything, are the most forceful evidence of their very real humanity.

This is not what you would describe as an enjoyable book. I don’t think it’s giving too much away to say that it’s a tear-jerker – and then some. In fact, in certain places, it’s downright unpleasant. But that just shows how powerful it is. You really FEEL for the characters so that, on more than one occasion, I actually felt that my own heart was breaking.

Rating: 4/5

Talking Points

• The story stays with you for long after you've closed the book (warning: it is a mistake to finish this immediately before bedtime). At first I thought it was extremely depressing and sent the message that life was pointless and death inevitable. It certainly makes you consider these things. But after thinking about it I came to realise that it's actually about the opposite: yes, death is inevitable, but that just makes what you do with your life all the more important. You have to seize what you want now and not wait until it's too late.
• On a slightly shallower note, I hated Ruth. Kathy obviously loves her dearly, but she spends a lot more time focusing on her less than admirable traits and actions. Which is understandable, given everything that happens. Ahem...
• A lot of reviews - especially regarding the movie - have brought up the issue of why nobody tries to escape their fate. The thought did cross my mind, but I think when you consider the fact that they've been brought up their whole lives with their destiny/purpose drilled into their minds, it is realistic that they don't really consider running away. They have no families (except each other), nowhere to go, no real preparation for the outside world - no options, really. I said it was sad, didn't I?
• Not having much medical knowledge, I'd like to know how the third and fourth donations were possible. It wasn't a majorly important point for what the book was trying to achieve, but it did make me curious.

Eye candy
Again, having already watched the movie trailer prior to reading the book, I had Carey Mulligan as Kathy, Andrew Garfield as Tommy and Keira Knightley as Ruth stuck in my head. Which was pretty much perfect anyway, because I LOVE Carey and Andrew (to be honest, they're what attracted me to the book/movie to start with) and I don't particularly like Keira, so that worked for Ruth. The only thing that bugs me is Carey's weird mullet 'do in the trailer/stills, but she's so gorgeous I'll let it slide:

On a related note, this little clip made me so happy and (almost) pulled me out of the utter sadness I felt after finishing the book. Just. So. Adorable.