Naomi Westerman was an anthropologist studying death rituals in other cultures, then her entire family died. Death moved from being academic to deeply personal. Encouraging people to think and talk more openly, and break taboos, Happy Death Club explores how death is everywhere in our culture, but grief often isn't, whether it's writing horror movies for a living, true crime podcasts, working in the death industry, death peer support groups, and looking to death rituals in other countries.
Like Erica Buist (This Party’s Dead) and Caitlin Doughty (Smoke Gets in Your Eyes, From Here to Eternity and Will My Cat Eat My Eyeballs?), playwright Naomi Westerman finds the comical side of death. Part of 404 Ink’s Inklings series (“Big ideas, pocket-sized books” – perfect for anyone looking for short nonfiction for Novellas in November!), this is a collection of short essays about her own experiences of bereavement as well as her anthropological research into rituals and beliefs around death. “The Rat King of South London” is about her father’s sudden death from an abdominal aneurysm. An instantaneous death is a good one, she contends. More than 160,000 people die every day, and what to do with all those bodies is a serious question. A subversive sense of humour is there right from the start, as she gives a rundown of interment options. “Mummification: Beloved by Ancient Egyptians and small children going through their Ancient Egypt phase, it’s a classic for a reason!” Meanwhile, she legally owns her father’s plot so also buries dead pet rats there.
Other essays are about taking her mother’s ashes along on world travels, the funeral industry and “red market” sales of body parts, grief as a theme in horror films, the fetishization of dead female bodies, Mexico’s Day of the Dead festivities, and true crime obsession. In “Batman,” an excerpt from one of her plays, she goes to have a terrible cup of tea with the man she believes to be responsible for her mother’s death – a violent one, after leaving an abusive relationship. She also used the play to host an on-stage memorial for her mother since she wasn’t able to sit shiva. In the final title essay, Westerman tours lots of death cafés and finds comfort in shared experiences. These pieces are all breezy, amusing and easy to read, so it’s a shame that this small press didn’t achieve proper proofreading, making for a rather sloppy text, and that the content was overall too familiar for me.
Not a huge fan of her style (quirky, self effacing; and I especially can’t appreciate quirky, reductionist humor about ancient and sacred rituals (!) when it comes from an anthropologist) but there are interesting, if slightly underdeveloped, thoughts in here, e.g. about the exploitation of women’s dead bodies in art, “the corpse as tabula rasa,” the difference between corpses with and without flesh (or: why we are so drawn to bones), grieving joyously, and the secrecy surrounding death.
While I definitely don't think Naomi Westerman's approach to death and grief is going to be for everyone, I think if you are picking up a book called 'Happy Death Club', then you know what you're getting into.
Introspective, informative and at times morbidly funny, Happy Death Club is a short exploration into grief and bereavement across cultures, while also being a direct look at Westerman's own grieving process.
While I understand that it can be difficult to discuss a wide variety of death and grief practises in depth within such a short page count, I do wish we had more than is in the book - several ideas feel a little underdeveloped. Also, and I say this regarding every Inklings book but it bears repeating: this needs another edit.
Ultimately this was informative and enjoyable, with a whole host of references at the back for further reading
Mellification: preserving a body in honey. Loved this - utterly fascinating and touches on a lot of topics. “We use our stones, our carved marbles, our flowers, to fill the empty space that is grief.”
Death. Something no one really wants to deal with, yet something we are all forced to confront in one way or another. Something that brings sadness and anger. Something that led the author of this book on an unforgettable journey.
Let’s start from the beginning—how did I even come across this book? At the beginning of last year, I started noticing these eye-catching, thin, almost notebook-style books from 404 Inklings popping up on Instagram. They looked so intriguing yet frustratingly out of reach (at that time, they weren’t available in Estonia, and even now, the selection seems limited). Then, during a trip to the Netherlands, I stumbled upon them in my favorite bookstore. I didn’t flip through a single page—I simply grabbed a stack and bought them all. It wasn’t until I was in the car that I dared to open the first page, and just as I suspected—I couldn’t put it down. Instantly, I became a fan.
This book takes the reader on a fascinating, deeply engaging journey alongside the author. What is death? What does it look like across different cultures? How should we approach it? How do we cope with it? What are the different funeral rituals? What exactly is a grief club? This short collection of essays explores all these questions and many more surrounding death. The author’s own personal connection to the subject—having lost both parents—serves as the central thread of the book. And while the idea of traveling the world with her mother’s ashes might seem strange at first, the more you read, the more normal it begins to feel. Because, really, what is strange? Where do we draw the line between normal and weird? What makes something odd, or rather, completely natural?
Despite its focus on death and grief, this book is surprisingly uplifting and full of life. It practically bursts with it. The author’s reflections and experiences on these topics are both absurdly humorous and heartbreakingly raw. It’s entertaining, thought-provoking, comforting, and deeply cathartic—all at the same time. I feel like this is exactly the kind of book someone in mourning might need. These are the words we often want to say but don’t know how. The thoughts, questions, and answers we struggle to form.
That said, this book won’t be for everyone. The author’s writing style is sharp, direct, and laced with sarcastic humor, which may not sit well with every reader. Maybe it’s not the right style, or maybe it’s just not the right time. But for those who dare—I wholeheartedly recommend it! 😊
And before I wrap this up, I have to give a huge shout-out to the entire 404 Inklings series. What an insanely cool concept and format! If only these books were more widely available, I’d grab the whole collection in an instant. If you haven’t checked them out yet, I highly encourage you to do so: https://www.404ink.com/shop
I'm probably just 'old' and a snob, but this was dumbing down at its worst. The Taylor Swift thing was neither funny or clever.
Any interesting facts were buried in such irritating nonsense and cringey colloquial writing. The kind of essay an edgy 14 year old would hand in and get into trouble for.
Some chapters felt shoehorned in - horror films & true crime - and they weren't effectively tied into the theme of the collection. As well as a bit of creative writing from one of her plays which felt self-indulgent...
The blurb on the back is odd to state "her whole family died" suggests the sudden death of her parents and sibling(s) in the same event - which is not the case at all!
Also dire editing errors - text from page 43 is repeated on page 47 in another paragraph. A bit of a confused mess; either is should have been a memoir or a non-fiction anthropology text, not this weird mishmash.
How did she do it? Grief, yes. But also intersectional feminism, capitalist critique, horror movie dissection, magnificent adventures, Taylor Swift and rats. Naomi has given us a gift in her exploration of death - and brought more life and compassion to the topic than any other book I’ve read.
Happy Death Club captures the absurdity of grief, our obsessions and fear of death… the joy and the sorrow, the tears and the outrage and the confusion, the intimacy and the loneliness… all with ease and wit. A must read!
I've said it before and I'll say it again - I love these little 404 Inkings. I like reading nonfiction but I don't always want to read 400 pages on one topic. These little 100 odd page books are the perfect little snapshots for me.
I often think about death, so I've been excited to read this one. Normalise talking about death - at the end of the day it's one of the only guarantees in life.
Naomi Westerman handles the topic with tact and humour, which makes this a really enjoyable read. I also learnt a lot about death in other cultures which is always a bonus.
If you haven't picked up one from this series yet I'd highly recommend it. I've learnt loads on topics such as queer culture in Dungeons & Dragons and the power of hair.
I loved this immediately and knew it would be a very highly anticipated read from the moment 404 ink announced it. It’s the most perfect mix of factual and dark humour, without being too information heavy.
my only tiny tiny annoyance was that some of the text was repeated at times, but happy to overlook it and give this brilliant book the full 5 stars it deserves
(I think the best non fic I’ve read so far in 2024)
It’s breezy, it’s humorous, it has references to cultural practices beyond the more obvious ones that anyone reading into death has an understanding of. It also has a part insinuating that decaying flesh is female coded whereas sterile clean bones are male coded, and that is where the author lost me completely for the rest of the text, and went someways into undoing how much I had enjoyed the part prior to this.
I feel bad criticising this as 1 this is a semi-memoir 2 of someone who's had an incredibly difficult life 3 about a deeply personal experience for most.
but my god was the writing full of millennial rambling. while i did learn some new things, most of the essays were not structured or simply were not thought through enough, and unfortunately i'm the chronically-online-enough type of reader who has witnessed most of the talking points in this book being debated on twitter in real time and could pinpoint the month and year of when each chapter was written or which youtube essay it's inspired by. (there's nothing wrong with writing about "trending" topics, but there were no - or very few - new perspectives or connections being made and a lot of it came through as inauthentic when it was framed by personal (very much authentic) feelings)
re the title: can we please be honest. except for one essay, this was very much limited to the anglosphere - with the "across cultures" being remembered in passing when there was a need for an underdeveloped example. which is fine! considering the author's experiences and obviously her background! but different from what is being promised to us.
a lot of editing mistakes too, such as a paragraph being repeated in different parts of a chapter and words missing here and there, but i wouldn't expect an editor who has let the infamous "taylor swift" paragraph make it into the book to care about grammar.
I did really like the Batman and the Rat King of South London chapters though. I think this book just needed a couple of re-reads before its submittal.
A funny, witty, raw and relatable look at death, death rituals and practices, the funeral industry, the true crime industry, the innate misogyny in the “beautiful dead body” trope and grief among other associated topics.
The Inklings books I’ve read so far have all been great and this might be my favourite but as usual with these books I could have happily carried on reading.
There were some slight editing issues such as one paragraph repeated (which at first I thought was a repetitive call back but I don’t think it was as it didn’t seem to fit, so I think maybe one of them should have been removed) and some spelling/grammar issues but not the end of the world and doesn’t detract from the book.
Interestingly a relatable moment for me came with the conclusion when Naomi talks about how she thought she wouldn’t make to adulthood when she was younger and I had a similar thing (due to my chronic medical condition and frequent hospital stays) I didn’t think I’d make it to sixteen and was shocked when not only did I make it but I life carried on; although somewhere in my brain I do still feel like that sixteen year old so maybe I’m only maturing on the outside.
Really enjoyable read that was right up my street and I’ll probably revisit in the future
A great read full of fun facts and not-so-fun universal human emotions and experiences, even as the specifics vary. A few observations weaker than others (looking at the "gendered" aspects of mortuary science and grieving rituals feels half-baked) and 404 Ink desperately need to hire better proofreaders (I volunteer!), but one of the best Inklings
⟢ “I start to see death everywhere because death is everywhere.” (pg. 50)
⟢ “What’s the message here … maybe it's that grief unsettles us - we see it take hold of people and lead them to do horrifying things or break them down completely. Grief has an intense, visceral power that pushes people past their limits, and our own lack of comfort with it is channelled into horror films … 'Fear is one of the most spiritual emotions we can feel,’ says Gillerno del Toro, ‘because we're almost hardwired to be afraid of the dark’. John Carpenter adds in Interview Magazine, 'One of the reasons horror is such a universal force is that all human beings are afraid of the same things. We're afraid of death, loss of a loved one, disfigurement, loss of identity. Everything that you're afraid of, I’m afraid of.’” (pg. 42-43)
⟢ “I discover that so many artists throughout history have relied on dead women for inspiration that Wikipedia has separate categories for 'Female corpses in art'; 'Paintings of female corpses'; and ‘Death portraits of girls.’ There is, pointedly, no ‘Male corpses in art’, though surely there must be thousands. Portraits of Jesus on the cross alone must number hundreds, but a painting of Jesus is always a painting of Jesus. A painting of Dido or Ophelia is ultimately just another painting of a beautiful dead girl …” (pg. 52-53)
⟢ “I spent most of my young life convinced I was going to die at any moment. I took it as an absolute statement of undeniable fact that I would not live to see adulthood. Twenty-five at the absolute maximum, I thought. Then, somehow, I just kept not dying, and now I secretly kind of think that I might be immortal. I don't know whether I'm scared of dying or not (this is a lie).” (pg. 94)
⟢ “… I think in the end I would like to know that it's my time, like an animal tapping into some ancient knowledge lost to humans, and walk very deep into a forest, and simply sit down and listen to the birds. And after perhaps some hours or centuries I wouldn't be me any more but would be part of the forest, slipping seamlessly into something bigger as day slips into night.” (pg. 95-96)
First book about grief and death I’ve been able to pick up since loosing my dad. I’m not an academic so I will not comment on that side. But the tone was for me wonderful. There was something utterly enjoyable about being able to relate to such a sad topic but for it to feel human and normalised and funny. I am also the first of my friend group to loose a parent and I found Naomi’s commentary on that a breath of fresh air. You never wanna say it, never want the people you love to feel like they’re not enough but it was nice to see someone say it’s different but that okay 🫶
I dont want to negatively rate an autobiographical book about grief, but I did feel this was lacking in some ways. I think this touched on a lot of super interesting topics and I learned some cool things, but it could have gone further into almost all of them. I liked the mediations on the author's own grief, as well. I do think some of the levity through quirky jokes feels quite forced, which took away a lot of the effect for me. Final gripe, there's a good amount of spelling/punctuation mistakes that bothered me. So in general, this addressed a lot of interesting things, but it could have done a lot more
An interesting insight into different cultures’ perspectives on death, grief and burials. Little mention of the after life but I liked the fact it was just about death. Reading about little snippets of the writers own experiences brought the book to life. I found it lighthearted but sensitive. I wish some points were delved into a bit more but for a 100 page book I can’t complain.
I love these 404ink books - I have read a few and have a few more on my shelf. Learned some cool stuff that has changed my opinion on how I want to be buried. Also appreciated the author’s thoughts on people’s obsession with true crime!! 🫠 And turns out there are dinner and cafe clubs where people meet who are grieving so that will be cool to look up !
Felt like fate brought me this book, or a ghost. Naomi is such a fantastic writer and so fucking funny, in the way that people who have gone through nightmares often are. I could have read hundreds more pages of this, but the 100 I got were perfect.
If dark humour and if people, traditions and oddities are your things, this is your book. I adored it. It was fascinating, funny, feminist and really summed up the way in which you can feel a thousand things about death all at once. Full disclosure that I am someone who lost a parent and this is definitely my way, I mean we started a half orphan club 😬 so I do think that if you are of a more sensitive nature this maybe isn’t the book you need.
Pretty lighthearted considering the theme, but overall I found a lot of the conversations interesting and kinda enlightening. As someone who's dealt with intense grief in their life, I actually didn't find this book a hard read, but actually made me look internally at my own dealings and ideals behind some coping mechanisms etc. A lot of super interesting topics and angles, would recommend.
It had moments I really liked but could have benefitted from some more editing - there were literally whole sentences repeated just paragraphs later in the same essay.
Really interesting and thought provoking, with lots of interesting reading suggestions on death and all that comes with it! Particularly enjoyed the essay on horror movies and death
A lot of informative parts and a good intention. Personally, I sometimes would have wished for a little more depth, but it’s still a good book that might help you.
Westerman has managed to write a book on death without being morbid. She has curated a witty and engaging collection of ideas from around the world and i was enthralled reading about how it all impacted her.
Her talent lies in how it comes through her perspective. It all feels like a friend talking to you and whenever I think about loss, death and grief, a friend talking and listening is something that provides a lot of comfort.
I think the first few essays were really strong, but then it seemed to go a different downhill, which wasn't helped by the drastic need for an editor - some passages were almost entirely repeated, for example. The result was that the later couple of essays felt like they lacked coherence, leaned too much on unsubstantiated sources, and didn't feel like a part of the collection that had been built thus far. I would be interested in picking up the author's future essays, as I enjoyed the writing style overall.
As a fellow member of the 'an alarming number of my family members died in a very short space of time and it both Fucked Me Up and catalysed a bit of an obsession with death' club, I really liked this one, but dear God, the editing was awful - entire paragraphs are repeated, it's full of typos, and some of the essays feel unfinished. This book and this author deserved more editorial care and attention. If you're going to publish someone's work, you owe it to them to do it properly.
Despite that, this is a really great little book, unexpectedly hilarious in parts in the way that only death can be. I mean, the concept of someone being here and then just, like... not? Despite all evidence to the contrary indicating that they should, in fact, be here, because you never gave them your permission for them to just... go? C'mon! It's funny!
I remember the personal sections of this best. I think it was an effective memoir where Westerman examines how her life so far has been affected by death and grief, as well as short meditation on different cultural attitudes to death.