Reading Painful Novels Can Be Worth the Pain

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Sometimes, the subject matter of a novel is almost too painful to read. But if the book is good, we read it nonetheless.

Why? We might admire the storytelling, like the author’s writing style, relate to the characters, learn a lot, think about our own lives and the lives of people we know, and get a needed reminder of how much sadness and inhumanity there is in the world — which exercises our empathy muscles. Also, a painful novel might offer a bit of hope and inspiration, via some silver linings in the plot and/or the courage and resilience of certain characters. Plus some truly nasty characters might get their comeuppance. (Or might not.)

My latest experience with a gut-wrenching work of fiction came last week when I read John Grisham’s riveting 2010 novel The Confession, which tells the ultra-depressing tale of a Black teen put on Death Row in Texas after being framed by law enforcement for a murder a white man committed. Such an agonizing scenario that I almost put down the novel in despair, especially when I sensed that the pulls-no-punches Grisham was going to again give his readers a sad or mixed ending. But I kept on — admiring Grisham’s suspenseful writing and his fury at the injustice rampant in America’s legal system…and his fury at spineless, amoral politicians.

I had a similar reaction a few years ago to Angie Thomas’ excellent The Hate U Give — a novel I’ve discussed here before that focuses on the plucked-from-the-headlines killing of a young Black man by a trigger-happy white cop, and the reaction to his death by his (female) friend and the community at large.

More recently, I read and wrote about Rohinton Mistry’s India-set A Fine Balance, which had many excruciating moments of the powerful making life miserable for the powerless but was crafted so well I had no thought of stopping.

Of course, novels about war, genocide, slavery, a pandemic, and so on will make readers despondent but glued to the pages if the books are good enough. I’m thinking of titles such as Herman Wouk’s War and Remembrance, William Styron’s Sophie’s Choice, Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin, and Albert Camus’ The Plague, to name just four novels among many.

And, yes, dystopian works like George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four, Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale, Octavia Butler’s Parable of the Sower, Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451, and Suzanne Collins’ The Hunger Games trilogy are simultaneously hellish and very compelling.

In an ideal world, we would hope that enough people perusing painful books might help (through reader change of heart, activism, etc.) lead to a society where fewer painful things happen. Perhaps wishful thinking, but…

Your thoughts about this topic, and any examples you might have of distressing novels you’ve read or tried to read?

My literary-trivia book is described and can be purchased here: Fascinating Facts About Famous Fiction Authors and the Greatest Novels of All Time.

In addition to this weekly blog, I write the 2003-started/award-winning “Montclairvoyant” topical-humor column every Thursday for Montclair Local. The latest piece — about a welcome mayoral candidate, no teacher layoffs, an overpaid township manager, and more — is here.

129 thoughts on “Reading Painful Novels Can Be Worth the Pain”

  7. “In Cold Blood” is horrifying. No wonder it destroyed Capote.
    In the 1980’s, for me , it brought home the reality of all horrid crimes I heard about on the news. Encapsulated, even harped upon in the news back when there was no internet, one could really never know the degradation. Capote takes us inside.
    Victims are to be remembered, not the perpetrators.

    Yet, by and large, it seems people know the names of killers, and not their victims.

    The book’s lesson was a greater empathy. It also asks questions about the how’s and why’s of criminal behaviour society has not got a grip on to this day.

    “The Good Earth” was a slug through read for me. At the same time, I had to go on.
    The history, societal exposures and truths of poverty are invaluable.

    Thanks, Dave!

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  8. Having lately grappled with a book (Vassily Grossman’s “Life and Fate”) clocking in at 700+ pages that dealt with: prison camp, concentration camp,the Battle of Stalingrad and the treacherous pitfalls awaiting survivors under watchful Stalin, I don’t think painful books dissuade me from reading.

    As proof, I offer my present open book: “Petersburg”(1916), by Andrei Bely, which concerns a plot involving a senator’s son manipulated into setting a bomb under his own father, and a failed suicide attempt. It’s a comparatively short read at 580 pages.

    Each book is not only painful, at least in places, maybe most places, but painfully long. Literally– that Grossman hardback made my hands ache just holding up to eye-level!

    Also read lately, and literally painful: Robert Galbraith’s “The Ink Black Heart”–over 1000 pages, and like flying into Las Vegas, boy were my arms tired.

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    • Thank you, jhNY! That “Life and Fate” book definitely has MULTIPLE painful aspects. Yikes! “Petersburg” sounds pretty intense, too. And, yes, long books can potentially create a pain of a different sort. I liked “The Ink Black Heart” a lot (as I did the earlier novels in J.K. Rowling’s crime series) but it IS a slog at times. Including all those chat room conversations.

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  10. Thank you Dave for this post. It made me think that I read Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451 years ago and by that time I could not understood how someone could burn books because of fear of its contents (besides WWII Nazis) until it happenend in my country where a right wing politician made it in a public park. I want to believe books can contribute to make our human race better.
    I do not know if your post were just for pain books or could I extend it to sadness in writing. To mention (forgive me for using a spanish written tale) one of the best mexican writters Juan Rulfo and his short tale Luvina. Two people talking about a place named Luvina and you begin to have a growing feeling of unease as you continue reading. One of the characters say: «I would say that it is the place where sadness nests». It is a wonderful and very well written tale.

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    • Thank you, rincondesmendoza! Yes, unfortunately, “Fahrenheit 451” was not only relevant in the mid-20th century but today as well. 😦

      Sadness in books is definitely related to pain in books. Juan Rulfo’s “Luvina” sounds really good and sobering. I couldn’t find it online, but will see if my local library has it in some form.

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  11. I like painful books – books that make you think, which is what I’ve named my own recently-launched website. Happy-ever-after is okay, but I’m a fan of the 19th-century tradition of novels that tackle social issues–and I’ve ready so many of the books you mention above.

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  13. Aged twelve, I read John Wyndham’s The Chrysalids – long before any Triffids or cuckoos. The secret of Sophie’s six toes registered with painful intensity.
    Circumstances meant that I understood – maybe too much for 12, about genetic damage.
    First couldn’t put it down adult fiction ?

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  14. I very much feel, that through emotions and historical facts we can grow, Dave and in this sense I thank you very much for your this week’s post. I have taken note of The confession, which you recommend. I think the book The kite runner by Hosseini also belongs into this category, because here we get into the very difficult friendship of two boys of different tribes in Afghanistan. Many thanks

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  15. Hi Dave, most of the novels I read fall into this category. I don’t read a lot of fantasy or romance, I like historical novels and those are always packed with angst. The most painful but rewarding books I read last year would be The Grapes of Wrath, The Frozen Hours, To Wake the Giant, and The Eagle’s Claw, all by Jeff Shaara (I need to write reviews, I’m so behind). My current read, The Sealwoman’s Gift is also in this category and is about slavery in Algiers in the 17th century.

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  17. Dave, an interesting and fascinating post. I definitely have to be in the mood / mind-set to read books like this. If there is no silver lining, sign of possible hopeful way forward they can be even harder to read. I’ve read a few mentioned here and one book last year had me leaving it a day or two here and there to take a breather – but well worth it in the end and slightly terrifying as one could see this happening for real. It was called ‘The Silence Project’ summed up as: ‘A thoroughly original dystopian novel told through the eyes of the daughter of the charismatic leader of what becomes a death cult.’

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  18. When I was 12 or 13, we were assigned to read “Of Mice and Men.” Up until then I had read books where sad things happen (like Beth dying in “Little Women”) but never a devastating book like that. I remember being overwhelmed by the end; I cried and cried. I was incredulous, too. How could someone write such a terrible book? But even then, I realized that it must be a very good book if it could make me cry so much. Since then I’ve read a lot of books that overwhelmed me, including “Beloved.” I agree that it’s usually worth it, Dave, but not always. There has to be some ray of hope somewhere for me to bear the pain.

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  19. Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee by Dee Brown was perhaps the most heartbreaking book I ever read. In fact, after reading it, I stayed away from books that were sad for quite some time. Real life is so tragic, like Greek tragedy tragic, that I can barely stand it at times. Not that everything I read is like a walk in the park; however, I try to minimize the sorrow having a low pain threshold to begin with, especially during troubling times. Given the current political situation it can be rather depressive to say the least. Consequently reading fantasy or sci-fi is doable only because it is often implausible Still there are exceptions *sigh*. I just want books that have a resolvable outcome for the better and/or a hero that triumphs over evil. Live and let live. Thanks Dave, nice theme. Susi

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    • Thank you, Susi! “Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee” is indeed devastating, and one can’t even tell one’s self that it’s fiction not fact. It is fact. 😦 Great mention! And, yes, when real life, politics, etc., can be so sad, sad novels are not always appealing. But many of the best novels do of course have a lot of sadness, so one wants to (perhaps reluctantly) read them. And, yes again, sci-fi and fantasy give a reader some remove and relief from real life, even when those two genres tell sad stories that reflect real life.

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  20. I wonder if there’s a difference between painful novels that make you angry and those that make you sad. An author once advised me that a novel whose main character was obviously on a downward slope would likely not be well received in today’s publishing world. Maybe it’s different with classics?
    I have A Fine Balance in my TBR heap. I’ve heard so much about how painful it is that I’m a bit apprehensive about reading it.

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    • Thank you, Audrey! That’s a great distinction you made — painful novels can indeed make a reader angry or sad, and of course often both.

      A number of recently written novels I’ve read do have the protagonist on a downward slope, but that might be more the case with books written after the author is somewhat known than with debut novels. Established authors can take more “risks.”

      I think “A Fine Balance” is worth the read, on “balance.” But it is beyond sad, for the most part.

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  21. People have been writing these stories forever, Dave, and always finding readers. “Fahrenheit 451” and “Nineteen Eighty-Four” came to mind, as did several postwar stories we were required to read when I took German in high school and we started reading German literature. I didn’t like the stories (Die Rote Katze among them), but they pointed out depth of despair some people reached. Our teacher wanted us to read those stories because she felt “modern” literature glossed over the horrors of war. Maybe she was right. Maybe stories and books like this make us consider what has been, what might be – all the limits of situations once people are involved.

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    • Thank you, Dan! You’re right — painful fiction has been around since fiction began. And, yes, definitely some downbeat-but-great fiction from German writers: Erich Maria Remarque, Hermann Hesse, Goethe, Gunter Grass, etc. And I agree that painful books reflect how painful real life can be.

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  22. A very interesting post, Dave. As always!!!! My first thought came in a form of a question. Why do we read sad and tragic novels? This is not a new phenomenon. Think of Shakespeare tragedies – King Lear, Hamlet and Romeo & Juliet. We like to be happy people but it seems paradoxical that we want to delve into narratives that make us feel sad.

    Perhaps these novels allow us to experience sadness without risk. Or they prompts a renewed gratitude for our choices and lives. In my experience (I read King Lear many times) sad novels offer a unique perspective on the human experience that is often difficult to express. It is cathartic!

    I am able to explore and empathize with characters facing adversity, which provides me a deeper understanding of the complexities of life and the range of emotions that shape our existence. I believe reading these complex, heart-rendering stories can be a transformative experience, fostering personal growth and expanding emotional intelligence. I leave you with one of my favourite quotes from Williams Shakespeare’s King Lear: “Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.”

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  23. David. When I read Toni Morrison’s Beloved in my 30s, I was way too young to internalize all the implications that hit so close to my heart. In my 40s, after the death of my parents, facing my despair at the realities of America, this tragic diaspora, universal hatred of blacks, and the painful truths of historical and cultural erasure in my own life as a person with a historically multiracial heritage in America, I was able to embrace Beloved and this part of myself, which always was at home in my heart. Such a tale helps us grow more human and makes us wise, vulnerable, and vital if we allow them to. Black women, in particular, are especially haunted by these ghosts — the lost children of the past, who are out of reach and forever unaccounted for.

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    • Thank you, Anonymous, for your extraordinarily eloquent words! “Beloved” is indeed a devastating novel, and I can understand why many readers wouldn’t internalize all of it until they reach a certain age and have had a certain number of life experiences — including very painful ones. (I didn’t read Toni Morrison’s classic until I was in my 50s, though I didn’t deliberately wait that long.)

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  24. A well-timed topic for me, Dave. Your second paragraph describes perfectly my emotional response to Kingslolver’s novel Demon Copperhead that I read recently. Such stories do open us to injustices outside of our own lived experience. Though it would be great if such stories could lead to a better world, I believe that their true value lie in changing minds and hearts, however few. I recently added Octavia Butler’s Parable of the Sower to my To Read List after it was referenced in an article on our current situation in America.

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  25. Reading “The Hate U Give” was very painful for me, especially since I knew it was already being removed from libraries by those who refuse to face these painful truths. “We Were the Lucky Ones” by Georgia Hunter and based on her family was the story of people in Poland during the Holocaust. All too real and very painful. Very well-told, however.

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    • Thank you, Becky! “The Hate U Give” is indeed a difficult (but necessary) book to read. So frustrating that it’s been banned in some more-conservative places. Whatever reasons people in those places might give for the banning, I’m sure the less-than-flattering depiction of the police in Angie Thomas’ novel is one of the real reasons. And Holocaust novels? SO painful. Also including Leon Uris’ “Mila 18,” Erich Maria Remarque’s “Spark of Life,” etc.

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  26. Interesting points but I like an author who explores difficult issues and helps the reader understand different impacts/ consequences. Thinking of some of the key War poets their perspectives and language gives a different dimension to factual writing. I read but did not enjoy Lolita but it was both intriguing and well written inside the head of the abuser. Can imagine that needs a trigger warning. I did not read a friend’s book about a young person going missing on a travel/ work opportunity in China. My daughter was off travelling around that time. Can also not keep reading about detectives and murders. Have started Remarkable Bright Creatures but know some people say they do not like stories where animals might die. I hope the octopus doesn’t but it knows it lives for 4 years. Books are about life and the tension is death!

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    • Thank you, navasolanature! I agree with your regard for authors who take on difficult issues. Their books are well worth reading (with the occasional “lighter” novel a good change of pace. 🙂 ).

      I can definitely see not wanting to read a book about a person going missing when one’s own child is traveling.

      And, yes, when death seems to be in the offing for a beloved character — whether human or animal — continuing with a great book is definitely a part-painful process. “Books are about life and the tension is death!” — excellent, sobering line.

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  27. I tend toward the unremittingly depressing in fiction, but as far as painful to read, the first book that popped in my head is Richard Wright’s Native Son. Madame Bovary was also a painful read for me. Probably the most painful read I’ve encountered is a play rather than a novel: King Lear. (Oh, no, not his other eye!!)

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  30. I go through different phases of reading interest. In a particularly dark time of my life, I was drawn to Orwell’s “1984” and Bradbury’s “Fahrenheit 451”. Lately, I’ve been reading books my mother and grandmother collected, mostly written in the first half of the 20th century, like Hemingway, Faulkner, or Costain.

    Historical novels and biographies are recent preferences.

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  31. I love gritty novels. I think sometimes if you’ve genuinely been through certain hardships you can “take” the content better. Others might get triggered for the same reason. It’s nice to feel with a character and experience someone else’s journey.

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