The Best Books for Hard Times

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Today’s topic is one that has a grim but also evergreen utility, and comes up often in texts with friends. What should you read when you’re going through real shit?

Everyone has their own definition of a ‘hard times’ book, and a definition of a ‘hard time’ itself, but the over-arching asks among my friends tend to be: funny, low stakes, distracting, nobody dies. (Or gets cancer, especially parents or children.)

You’d think there would be a vast supply of ‘hard times’ reading, particularly in this current day and age, and particularly in contemporary romance, but as a regular reader I can tell you that it is almost guaranteed these days that even in a rom-com, someone will have a traumatic relationship with a parent, be grieving a deceased parent, or someone’s parent will get cancer and the child will struggle with the medical bills.

I respect this in theory (who can blame an author in a fizzy genre for wanting to add a little gravitas?). But I do sometimes feel like joy and escape and love are totally devalued (read this), and have the sensation of feeling conned— like when I went to the Bake Off musical and there was a subplot with accompanying, horrifying ballad about the heartbreak of long-term infertility. (I still loved this under-loved and generally very silly musical, but would anyone in the thick of IVF really say, ‘thank God the Bake Off music has addressed this painful aspect of my life, quite unexpectedly and mid-way through, when it’s very hard for me to leave or cry without it being obvious’?)

And so I offer my personal and very idiosyncratic list of Books For Hard Times, ranging from ‘absolutely no stakes at all’, all the way up to ‘emotional masochist.’ Pick your (happy, distracting) poison, and send me your own suggestions.

Basically nothing bad happens at all

These are books for when you need to know that nothing bad will happen. Look, life is hard and sometimes you need the literary equivalent of a long bath and a chocolate biscuit, with the added assurance that no one will get sick or get a divorce. These books also tend to have virtually no reference to current events, social issues, or climate change. They exist in a bubble and yes, quite often the protagonists are kind of rich. (Another thing they don’t offer is much social analysis, and thank god for that.)

The first book I always recommend is Felicity Cloake’s One More Croissant for the Road, a book in which Felicity, a food writer, cycles around France and eat things. That’s it. That’s the book. It is absolutely brilliant. The only content warning is for hardcore vegetarians, but everyone else can plunge in with little fear. If this takes your fancy, her follow-up involves cycling around the UK, eating breakfast.

If you can handle husbands and culinary geniuses dying of old age after wonderful lives, the next pick is Julia Child’s My Life in France. The major death is Julia’s, because the book was published post-humously, but after a long, fun, and quite happy existence. She misses her friends and finds her Republican father patronising, but mostly, she cooks, travels, and approaches life with utter gusto. (For context, when I googled this book and content warnings, the AI overview came back with the sombre descriptor that it “includes descriptions of red meat and mayonnaise”, which just says it all, about AI and Julia Child.) The memoir by her long time editor Judith Jones, My Life In Food, is basically the same book, just told from the other side of the editing process, and the Atlantic.

Next, (and if you think it’s a coincidence that all these books feel like they were written by the same person, it is not, I have a type), there is Laurie Colwin’s Happy All The Time. I was on the lookout for a happy book, and then saw this recommendation from Nick Hornby, and bought it immediately. It’s the mid-1970s, and two quirky and neurotic couples fall in love. That’s it! Hurray!

For bite-size comfort, turn to David Sedaris, and particularly his Carnival of Snackery, which is just excerpts from his diaries when he lived in London. The whole point of this book is taking delectably comic, bitchy but low-grade insult from things like bad customer service and littering, rather than anything that is causing you true pain and distress. If you recently learned Hugh Grant hates water bottles and backpacks and thought: ‘yes, a sensible man’, then this book is for you. The audiobook is extra good.

Finally, after a long discussion with my friend Anna, we realised one of the only other books we could come up with was Pride and Prejudice. So if all else fails, go for Austen. Since I was about 15, my fail-safe for good days and bad with my best friend Rebecca has been pho and any adaptation, either the BBC one or the Keira Knightley one. Long may they be rewatched for comfort, as they are perfect.

Minor bad stuff happens, mostly for the jokes

These books include illness, death or heartbreak plots or sub-plots, but the over-arching ‘vibe’ is cheerful or at least incredibly funny, with all obstacles satisfyingly overcome. The gold standard of this category is Nora Ephron’s Heartburn, a book that I suggest buying a proper copy of, even though your local library will definitely have it. It rewards repeat readings and is particularly good for breakups, divorces, or any other situation where you crave comic revenge.

The next is Katherine Heiny’s Standard Deviation, which was recommended by my agent Sophie as her platonic ideal of a book, and also as a litmus test to find out if a reader has a sense of humour. It follows no-filter Audra, her baffled but go-with-the-flow husband Graeme, and their sweet but socially struggling son, and is essentially a comic-of-manners full of rich people and good jokes. One death and some infidelity.

Finally, romances about people who have baggage, family struggles and heartbreak, but you can go into knowing it all ends happily. The first is Romantic Comedy by Curtis Sittenfeld, featuring a Saturday Night Live writer and a hot musical guest on the eve of the pandemic, and the second is David Nicholls’ You are Here, which features two struggling people on a very soggy and profound walking trip, waking up to the fact that they have amazing chemistry and should probably fall in love.

I also recently loved The Paradise Problem by Christina Lauren. (I find their books — it’s a best friend writing duo, one called Christina, one called Lauren — almost always hit above average for the genre, just that little bit funnier or smarter.) It’s as if they decided to put Succession through a rom-com filter, make at least one of the kids an heir with a heart of gold, and set it all on a private island. There are sad family dynamics but no one dies, vengeance is served, and much sex is had. Treat yourself.

You do actually need a good cry

May I suggest watching clips of ‘The Dog House’ from Channel 4 on Youtube? This is a delightful show where people who have gone through heartbreak, grief or any kind of loneliness are matched with a delightful dog in need of a new home. Dry eyed to ugly sob in ten minutes flat, employ it right when you start shouting at your spouse for no good reason or welling up because you’re out of milk. Finish with ten minutes of laying completely still on your back while an episode of Yoga with Adriene plays soothingly in the background, and your money back if you don’t feel much better. (This is my “creative” approach to what Emily and Amelia Nagoski call “completing the stress cycle.”)

If that doesn’t work, your girl is the iconic Irish novelist Marian Keyes, who once said “what doesn’t kill you makes you weaker,” and was quite right too. All of her books start out fun and frivolous with lots of fashion name dropping, before plumbing the very depths of your soul and leaving you cleansed and dehydrated, but really quite hopeful. Cheaper and much less annoying than hot yoga. Check online if there’s a topic you just can’t handle, because she will do it all—alcoholism, infertility, cheating, eating disorders. My favourite is the classic Rachel’s Holiday.

Unavoidable mentions, too, for a couple blockbuster one-two hits (both readable and watchable, I suggest doing both, not one or the other), which are both so well known and beloved I’d be surprised if you hadn’t done both already. Though if you never have, run don’t walk. David Nicholls’ One Day, and the recent Netflix series, and of course Sally Rooney’s Normal People, and the accompanying star-making pandemic-era TV show.

You’re an emotional masochist (no judgement)

There is no book that will make you feel worse than Hanya Yanigara’s A Little Life, a book I found compulsively readable, that made me cry so hard I briefly thought I was choking, and that I absolutely loathed. I finished it quicker just so I could get the cursed novel out of my goddamn house. Many people totally swear by it, but don’t say you weren’t warned.