A Book to Love and Hate in Equal Measure

I wasn’t going to write about this book.

It was going to be one of those fluff endeavors, a side quest of sorts, a lighter read to step me down from 11/22/63, let my heart and brain recoup, and help me prepare for some of the heavier reads in my TBR stack.

It’s not a brand-new book. I put off reading it because the reviews have been mixed — not the official reviews, which have all been glowing, as far as I’ve seen — my friends who have read it haven’t been unanimous in their praise.

Even after the first few chapters, I wasn’t hooked. I could tell the story was extremely well-written, and I was certainly interested. But nothing about it elated or outraged me.

Until the last few chapters, during which I found myself frantically writing this text to my sister ⤵

True story.

Then I proceeded to volunteer for extra chores around the house — laundry folding, basement organizing, floor scrubbing, dish washing, anything I could find — so I could have an excuse to keep my earbuds in and finish the final chapters.

Stears stung my eyes when it was over.

That’s how good this book is. And now, V. E. Schwab’s The Invisible Life of Addie Larue will forever be one of my favorite novels. (I’m on the search right now for a physical copy to add to my dreamy bookshelves at home.)

It’s a love story.

It’s an ethics lesson.

It’s a gut check.

I loved it.

I also despised some parts of the story so much I wanted to scream, cry, and argue with this V.E. Schwab person, whoever they are (a talented soul, no doubt, to elicit such extremes).

The audio version is read by the Julia Whelan (my all-time favorite narrator), which makes almost anything a better read, in my opinion. And she’s also one of the narrators in a star-studded cast on V.E. Schwab’s newest novel Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil, so I might have to give that one a try soon. (If you’ve read it, let me know your thoughts.)

My favorite quotes from The Invisible Life of Addie Larue ⤵

“They teach you growing up that you are only one thing at a time—angry, lonely, content—but he’s never found that to be true. He is a dozen things at once. He is lost and scared and grateful, he is sorry and happy and afraid.”

““But a life without art, without wonder, without beautiful things—she would go mad. She has gone mad. What she needs are stories. Stories are a way to preserve one's self. To be remembered. And to forget. Stories come in so many forms: in charcoal, and in song, in paintings, poems, films. And books. Books, she has found, are a way to live a thousand lives—or to find strength in a very long one.”

“Do you know how to live three hundred years?” she says. And when he asks how, she smiles. “The same way you live one. A second at a time.”

“There is a defiance in being a dreamer.”

If you’ve been on the fence about this one, it might be time to give it a go. If you do, let me know how it goes.

This weekend, I’m off to do a little antiquing, used book buying, and baseball watching. (Wild times at work and the start back to school have kept me inside and super busy all week long this week, so I’m determined to have a little fun.)

Wherever you are today, however this message finds you, I hope you find goodness, kindness, and bright spots everywhere you look — and I hope to see you back here next Friday morning.

💛

Celeste