I recently finished reading Warm Bodies, the 2011 “zombie romance” novel that inspired the recent number one box office hit.
R, the first-person narrator and protagonist, is one of the Dead, victim of a mysterious curse plaguing most of the world. He’s happy with his brain-and-essence-eating self until he meets and rescues Julie, a rosy-eyed, Living human. Their budding friendship—and romance—slowly returns R’s desire to live, his conscience, and his empathy. Other zombies take notice, wondering whether the same can happen to them, too.
Great literature it is not. But this story about the things that separate the dead from the living did have something to teach me about myself, my life, and my depression. Read the rest of this entry