The best books that refer to death and dying (without being terminally depressing)

Flatshare is one of the only romantic comedies on the market to include a hospice setting, which is one of the reasons I love it. The story features two characters forced to share a one-bedroom flat due to financial constraints. Tiffy gets the flat overnight while Leon works in the hospice, and when he comes home from his night shift the flat is his until Tiffy returns.

The premise (they share a bed, but they’ve never met) is often cited by those in the publishing world as ‘the perfect hook’ – grabbing your attention and making you want to read on. But Flatshare is about much more than a good hook - O’Leary delivers a perfectly executed, smart, sassy novel that’s guaranteed to bring a smile to your face.

Ove is a grumpy, taciturn man, old before his time. The story starts with him plotting his imminent demise - because what’s the point of living when the love of your life is no longer around?

But a combination of annoying new neighbors and equally annoying old friends slowly draws him out of his cantankerous shell, and he realizes there is still fun to be had. This novel is about hope and the triumph of the human spirit, but it’s written in a very accessible and often acerbic style. It deals with very dark and difficult topics (suicide, bereavement, loneliness) but manages this with a lightness of touch that makes it a fun and heart-warming read. And it’s very relatable - after all – everybody knows an Ove.

One of my favourite books (ever). Death and dying feature briefly, and the remaining narrative is brimming with brilliantly dark medical humour - written by a doctor turned stand-up comedian and poised on the knife edge between laughter and tears.

It’s filled with pathos, wry observations on the human condition, and frankly hilarious anecdotes about the ridiculous things people do with their genitals in the name of fun. The overall comedic tone makes the occasional bad outcome much more stark and shocking, but my overwhelming emotion from reading this book is one of immense pride in the NHS and a real sense of empathy for many of the scenarios Kaye relates. He qualified in the same year as me, and our formative junior doctor training appears to have been very similar. 

Mannix is a retired Palliative Care Consultant, and this wonderful book takes case studies from her long career and presents them as vignettes designed to reassure a readership who may be anxious about the process of dying. She relates each story with candour and humility, acknowledging how much she has learnt from her patients and their families whilst glossing over the enormous impact that she has evidently had on their care.

This is an incredibly useful book for those working with people at the end of life, but it is also a really lovely read for anyone fearful of death, anyone who has felt the impact of a family bereavement, and anyone who will one day face death themselves, i.e., every single one of us. 

This is similar in subject to A Man Called Ove. The main protagonist is a grumpy elderly person who can’t see the point in being alive anymore, but this time she’s an older, frailer British woman, which adds a different tone to the narrative.

Eudora is looking into a trip to Switzerland as an answer to that ephemeral problem of how to shuffle off one’s mortal coil with minimal fuss. Again, it is the new friendships she makes that steer her away from her original course, and again it is a story of community and learning to live in the moment. Annie Lyons writes with warmth and humour about Eudora’s early life and addresses the topic of assisted suicide with a deft touch. It’s a brave and very enjoyable book.