The final season of His Dark Materials comes out this December and the trailer has dropped. The thing is, I’m not sure I can take it. The conclusion of series, told in the final pages of The Amber Spyglass, wrecked me. I listened to the last chapters in the parking lot of my local grocery store. I sat there for 45 minutes because I had to know how it turned out. I’m sure my fellow shoppers were worried for me–I was sobbing as though I’d just had the worse news of my life.
That book–and The Time Traveler’s Wife–are books I think of with love and sorrow. They broke my heart in a way that allows me to love them even as thinking about their stories makes my heart clench. And the truth is I avoid heartbreak. Copious tear inducing art has to be extraordinary for me to cherish it.
What books are like that for you? What novels have destroyed you in a way that you love?