Novels about Death

I’m always on the hunt for books about mortality that don’t require belief in God, souls, or afterlives to enjoy. In the world of non-fiction, this is easy. Fiction? That’s harder. But here are some novels that I have, as a skeptic, loved.

 

Sum (David Eagleman); the afterlife

Contemporary renderings of the afterlife tend to portray it as utopia – heaven as an eternal after-party, the warm bliss of enlightenment, etc. But there are only a few ways “heaven” could be perfect (some might argue there are none)… conversely, there are millions of ways it could be horrible. In Sum, David Eaglemen explores some increasingly terrible and outrageous possibilities.

 

Thirty Things To Do After You Die (Colton Lazars); the afterlife

What about a book about the afterlife written for atheists? Enter Thirty Things To Do After You Die by Colton Lazars, which asks us to really imagine what the afterlife would look like (and that if God created man in his image, God is probably easily bored, sometimes lazy, and often mean). In Lazars’ imagined afterlife, Hitler is in hell, but only on a technicality, and Danish people can’t get into heaven because of a glitch no one knows how to fix. This book was silly fun (and now I too want a pet liver).

The Jaunt (Stephen King); immortality

This short story by Stephen King was the first book ever to convince me that immortality would be a terrifying insanity (this shift in perspective was immediate and permanent). Lots of stories and thought experiments have followed, but nothing has impacted me as viscerally as The Jaunt. (Your disembodied consciousness drifting endlessly through oblivion? Hard pass). Stephen Cave was right that the appeal of immortality is inversely proportional to the time spent thinking about it.

 

The God of Endings (Jacqueline Holland); immortality

The God of Endings by Jacqueline Holland gives us an immortal woman trying to live without loss, as if immortality should teach her to avoid anything fragile or temporary. Living this way, she longs for the silence and nothingness of death. But, as it turns out, the things worth living for are always temporary; any beginning necessitates an ending… and endings are better than nothing.

“How presumptuous is the gift of life? What arrogance is implicit in the act of love that calls another into existence? This world, my love, I give it to you. All of it. You’re welcome, and I’m sorry.”

 

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue (V. E. Schwab); legacy

Imagine being gifted with immortality, but cursed to be forgotten by everyone you meet. The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V. E. Schwab explores what kind of mortal existence would be worth sacrificing for immortality, and if a life that belongs only to you is a life worth living. Would you sacrifice legacy and love for infinite experiences? Are forgettable things important in the same way that memorable things are? And does a life have value even if it doesn’t leave a mark? This book is an analysis of love and care and mattering, and how it’s all fundamentally linked to finitude, fragility, and belonging.

 

Everyman (Philip Roth); regret

We meet an unnamed man at his own funeral, learn he’s had many wives, is estranged from his brother, and has strained relationships with all but one of his children. Then, we travel back to before his birth and live his life all the way through – his charming and sex-filled adolescence, his middle-aged anchoring of importance on virility and masculinity (meanwhile screwing things up with the people who really matter). Suddenly, he finds himself at age 75… his friends are dying, his body is deteriorating, and he’s alone. Philip Roth’s Everyman is a book about what we think is important and what is actually important – what’s transient and what has staying power.

 

The Measure (Nikki Erlick); mortality

One day, across the globe, a wooden box appears for everyone. In it is a piece of string, which can be measured to exactly predict the day you will die. Would you open your box, and what would it change for you? If the string was short, would it lend urgency to your life, or would it cause despair? If it was long, would you put things off? If your partner’s string was much shorter, would you leave them? Would you look in your children’s boxes? And would a ticking clock for every human being bring humanity together, or would it be just another reason for division and discrimination? The Measure by Nikki Erlick is a fascinating thought experiment brought to all its terminal consequences.  

See also: 10 Books about Death for Atheists, and 100 Books about Mortality