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Happiness Forever: A Novel
A complete refreshment and uplift of a hilarious, beguiling first novel for the head and the heart.
Sylvie is happy only when she’s in therapy. This is because Sylvie is in love with her therapist; she thinks about her every second they’re not together (roughly 167 hours and 10 minutes per week). In that room, Sylvie is able to talk about the false hope promised by eighties music; what a dog’s inner life is really like and how sad, she, Sylvie is, outside that room. She’s aware she has an obsession, but whether it’s some flavor of erotic transference or a lost person’s need to connect, Sylvie isn’t sure.
Outside therapy Sylvie has what she considers to be a small a job as a veterinary nurse, companionship from her tattoo artist friend via text, and seaside walks with her brain-damaged dog, Curtains. But maybe therapy is making a difference, inviting her to imagine possibilities—possibilities that include a new friend she meets on the beach.
When the therapist starts to prepare Sylvie for the terrible fact that all treatment has to come to an end, Sylvie can’t stop herself from imagining sleeping in her car parked outside the therapist’s house. That won’t work. She has to be brave. Be brave, Sylvie! We love you.
In this wonderful, hilarious, stunning debut, Adelaide Faith captures the vulnerability, difficulty and joy of personhood, of being a person, of being alive.
A Macmillan Audio production from Farrar, Straus and Giroux.
Sylvie is happy only when she’s in therapy. This is because Sylvie is in love with her therapist; she thinks about her every second they’re not together (roughly 167 hours and 10 minutes per week). In that room, Sylvie is able to talk about the false hope promised by eighties music; what a dog’s inner life is really like and how sad, she, Sylvie is, outside that room. She’s aware she has an obsession, but whether it’s some flavor of erotic transference or a lost person’s need to connect, Sylvie isn’t sure.
Outside therapy Sylvie has what she considers to be a small a job as a veterinary nurse, companionship from her tattoo artist friend via text, and seaside walks with her brain-damaged dog, Curtains. But maybe therapy is making a difference, inviting her to imagine possibilities—possibilities that include a new friend she meets on the beach.
When the therapist starts to prepare Sylvie for the terrible fact that all treatment has to come to an end, Sylvie can’t stop herself from imagining sleeping in her car parked outside the therapist’s house. That won’t work. She has to be brave. Be brave, Sylvie! We love you.
In this wonderful, hilarious, stunning debut, Adelaide Faith captures the vulnerability, difficulty and joy of personhood, of being a person, of being alive.
A Macmillan Audio production from Farrar, Straus and Giroux.
Audible Audio
First published May 8, 2025
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 341 reviews
April 7, 2025
i think this writer reached into my skull and plucked out a bit of my gray matter. or i think i wrote this book. idk. all i know that most people will probably find this book repetitive and lacking a point but it resonated so deeply with me that idc. five stars
May 30, 2025
I'm afraid this book missed the mark for me. The blurb said "hilarious". I didn't laugh once. In fact, I found the whole book somewhat depressing.
Sylvie is a young woman who works as a veterinary nurse, a job she enjoys. However she has also had a string of traumatic relationships - Nick, her first serious boyfriend, died; then came Owen who was controlling, cutting Sylvie off from friends and family; and finally Sandy, who announced one day that he no longer cared for Sylvie.
So Sylvie goes to therapy. Unfortunately she has now transferred her obsessive love onto the therapist. However, at one session the therapist delivers a terrible blow. Will Sylvie be able to cope? After all she has her job, her beloved dog Curtains and a new friend, Chloe. Or will her obsession with the therapist prove too overwhelming?
I'm really unclear what was supposed to be funny about any of this. Sylvie clearly struggles in the world and the therapy seems to do no good whatsoever. I guess I'm missing the point of this book but it all felt as though Sylvie was the same person after months of therapy as she was before.
This book raises several disturbing themes of suicide, overdose, self-harm and coercive control. All these are difficult subjects to deal with but none were addressed by the therapist.
If someone can enlighten me to the funny parts I'd be happy to read the book again. Otherwise it was a miss for me.
Thankyou to Netgalley and 4th Estate/William Collins for the advance review copy.
Sylvie is a young woman who works as a veterinary nurse, a job she enjoys. However she has also had a string of traumatic relationships - Nick, her first serious boyfriend, died; then came Owen who was controlling, cutting Sylvie off from friends and family; and finally Sandy, who announced one day that he no longer cared for Sylvie.
So Sylvie goes to therapy. Unfortunately she has now transferred her obsessive love onto the therapist. However, at one session the therapist delivers a terrible blow. Will Sylvie be able to cope? After all she has her job, her beloved dog Curtains and a new friend, Chloe. Or will her obsession with the therapist prove too overwhelming?
I'm really unclear what was supposed to be funny about any of this. Sylvie clearly struggles in the world and the therapy seems to do no good whatsoever. I guess I'm missing the point of this book but it all felt as though Sylvie was the same person after months of therapy as she was before.
This book raises several disturbing themes of suicide, overdose, self-harm and coercive control. All these are difficult subjects to deal with but none were addressed by the therapist.
If someone can enlighten me to the funny parts I'd be happy to read the book again. Otherwise it was a miss for me.
Thankyou to Netgalley and 4th Estate/William Collins for the advance review copy.
August 18, 2025
I was a bit disappointed by this one. It positions itself as a story of an unhinged queer obsession but in reality it’s just an account of relatively straightforward therapy sessions.
The main character Sylvie is obsessed with her therapist. She lives alone with her brain damaged dog in a seaside town and works as a vet tech. She’s been in some very unhealthy and controlling relationships and is working to figure out who she is in her 30s.
I loved Big Swiss so I was hoping it would be similar to that, but it unfortunately didn’t really deliver on the obsession or weirdness, and it wasn’t really gay, despite being a story of same-sex obsession.
It reminded me more so of Emily Austin’s writing in terms of being a very interior story of a deeply neurotic individual.
I think what really bugged me beyond the fact that nothing really happened is that all of Sylvie’s relationships seem to exist to talk about her therapist. So she’s in therapy, thinking about therapy, and then she meets her friends and only talks about therapy. It gets really repetitive, and we don’t get to actually know anything about her friends because the relationship is completely one sided.
The writing itself was fine, and I’m sure some people will really resonate with it, but it just wasn’t for me.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the eARC.
The main character Sylvie is obsessed with her therapist. She lives alone with her brain damaged dog in a seaside town and works as a vet tech. She’s been in some very unhealthy and controlling relationships and is working to figure out who she is in her 30s.
I loved Big Swiss so I was hoping it would be similar to that, but it unfortunately didn’t really deliver on the obsession or weirdness, and it wasn’t really gay, despite being a story of same-sex obsession.
It reminded me more so of Emily Austin’s writing in terms of being a very interior story of a deeply neurotic individual.
I think what really bugged me beyond the fact that nothing really happened is that all of Sylvie’s relationships seem to exist to talk about her therapist. So she’s in therapy, thinking about therapy, and then she meets her friends and only talks about therapy. It gets really repetitive, and we don’t get to actually know anything about her friends because the relationship is completely one sided.
The writing itself was fine, and I’m sure some people will really resonate with it, but it just wasn’t for me.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the eARC.
August 13, 2025
touched on some topics i havent seen written about before that i relate to (a lot!) but other than that, i found myself reeeally having to push to finish this. the story hinges on the conversations between sylvie and her therapist or her two friends. personally just didn’t find that format engaging enough to compliment (or offset) how repetitive this felt
September 7, 2025
Despite what the blurb says, this was not funny in the slightest. The main character was insufferable and pathetic in a way that was extremely annoying. The writing wasn't anything special and I found the story quite repetitive, all the main character could think or talk about was her therapist. The ending was quite anticlimactic and didn't have a good enough pay off to justify the 250 pages I read.
May 9, 2025
On paper, Happiness, Forever seemed like it would be right up my alley. I really enjoyed Big Swiss and expected something equally strange, sharp, and queer. Unfortunately, by the 50% mark, nothing had happened to keep my interest, and I genuinely didn’t care to continue.
The book gives off the impression that it’s queer-centered, but the main character’s behavior doesn’t really reflect that compellingly or authentically. Instead of feeling layered or subversive, she just comes across as boring and vaguely unhinged, not in a fun, chaotic way, but in a flat, aimless one.
She’s also supposedly obsessed with her therapist, but the obsession feels hollow. If someone were truly fixated, there’d be rich detail, like remembering the exact scent of their perfume or the way their voice drops when they say something serious. Instead, the attachment feels vague and underdeveloped, which makes it hard to buy into the premise.
This book will definitely resonate with some readers, especially those drawn to quiet, internal narratives, but it just wasn’t for me.
The book gives off the impression that it’s queer-centered, but the main character’s behavior doesn’t really reflect that compellingly or authentically. Instead of feeling layered or subversive, she just comes across as boring and vaguely unhinged, not in a fun, chaotic way, but in a flat, aimless one.
She’s also supposedly obsessed with her therapist, but the obsession feels hollow. If someone were truly fixated, there’d be rich detail, like remembering the exact scent of their perfume or the way their voice drops when they say something serious. Instead, the attachment feels vague and underdeveloped, which makes it hard to buy into the premise.
This book will definitely resonate with some readers, especially those drawn to quiet, internal narratives, but it just wasn’t for me.
August 18, 2025
i would have called it a ridiculous book if i had not had a number of similar experiences :) this was fun!
May 19, 2025
[1 star]
I think I missed the point of this one. Happiness Forever introduces us to Sylvie. She’s 30 years old, recently out of an abusive, over-controlling relationship with a man, had done a good amount of drugs as a teen but has stayed sober since, and is starting therapy for the first time. And, she's completely obsessed with her 60-something year old unnamed therapist.
Okay, I have not read Big Swiss or any of those other grand obsession stories that other reviews are lamenting this to have not been like. I do agree, though, that nothing insane or random happens in this book. There is no grand twist where Sylvie kidnaps her therapist or kills her husband or anything of that sort. This is more of a “sit and experience life with this woman during a time of healing” book. We meet a new friend with Sylvie, talk to an old one, go to therapy, and get coffee. It’s comfortable, in a way, with just a backdrop of obsession.
There are a lot of little recurring details that I think are supposed to come together as this grand showcase of symbolism. Her love of Pierrot the clown since childhood, her brain-damaged dog that she thinks might hold her dead dad’s spirit, her detailing of every outfit the therapist wears for each of their sessions, the numerous books and movies brought up (that I recognized none of and am not sure if they are fictional or not), and Sylvie’s obsession with the idea that people live in different worlds (particularly the successful and unsuccessful world). These just name a few. Other than a few obvious ones, Pierrot’s story of unrequited love mirror’s Sylvie’s own obsession with her therapist (this one is essentially spelt out, though), I could not link them together into some grand idea. Maybe I would have liked this book much better if I was able to understand (if there is something to connect), but as of now they seem like needless details of Sylvie that the author stuck in from her own life.
The majority of the book takes place within Sylvie’s weekly therapy sessions. Here, we get the dialogue between her and her therapist, as well as Sylvie’s thoughts. There are some funny details within these scenes, Sylvie’s irritation at her therapist needing to stifle a yawn being one of them, but otherwise they are just standard talk-therapy sessions. There is not some grand juxtapose between what Sylvie is saying and thinking in terms of her obsession. She says a few out of pocket things at times related to her obsession, but the therapist remains professional and either ignores or helps her rationalize it. It’s so basic and general that there’s nothing to latch onto. Sylvie is fine, but not interesting enough of a character to have me hanging off of every word. I also already hate how therapists talk, so I was constantly eye-rolling at the therapist’s dialogue. Genuinely a problem as I am the one who picked up a book about a woman being obsessed with her therapist and I should give props at how the author collected every single stock therapist response into one novel. Beyond that, though, none of Sylvie’s tales about her ex-boyfriends, her job, her father, or any of her other escapades are interesting enough to hold my attention, even without the therapist's comments irritating me.
Near the start of the novel, Sylvie makes friends with a woman named Chloe. I do not like or understand Chloe at all. The thing with Chloe is that she is somehow so similar to Sylvie. They had the same childhood love of Pierrot, they like the same books and movies, they have a real similar sense of humor, on and on. Again, I don’t understand the significance of this detail of Chloe’s character. At times, she seems to have this vision of who Sylvie could be if she was in the “successful world”, as she calls it, but Sylvie doesn’t seem to be that much more well-off than Sylvie? Sylvie acts like she is so poor and unsuccessful, but she has a house, a car, a dog, can afford weekly therapy sessions (UK healthcare, I suppose), and works a full time job as a vet-tech (who admittedly don’t make a lot). I just don’t follow how Sylvie constantly acts like she is some grand unsuccessful failure. Yes, coming out of an abusive relationship affects how a person views themselves, but we don’t really get to see any sign of that with Sylvie.
Anyways, Chloe speaks very similarly to Sylvie. I listened to the audiobook where the narrator made no attempts to distinguish her voice between characters. Coupled with the lack of dialogue tags, I was constantly getting mixed up on who was talking at times. Chloe and Sylvie’s conversations were the main culprit of this, as they speak so similarly. It gets boring after a point. On top of this, almost every conversation with Chloe feels like a slightly more casual therapy conversation. A few near the end break this pattern and get better, but why are there two friends only ever talking about Sylvie’s problems? It’s a shorter book, yes, but surely some variation could have occurred. I’m bored. There’s nothing poignant or revealing enough in these conversations to warrant their frequency or length. There are times where you can tell that the author believes that she has written some grand, beautiful, life-changing line, but, in reality, it is either extremely basic or just cringe. I don’t think any of the writing has left some grand impact on me.
Continuing with Chloe, I don’t understand if I am supposed to like her. I found her to be constantly enabling Sylvie’s obsession with her therapist. She is constantly joking along with or genuinely listening to Sylvie’s obsession. Like, this is concerning even if Chloe assumes she’s harmless. Why is it treated like a normal thing by Chloe? At least Sylvie’s other friend, Conrad (who shows up like three short times over text) tells her to knock it off. Near the end, Chloe says that she is worried about Sylvie’s obsession, but, like, you’ve been joking with her and egging her on this whole time? But, then, she goes back to normal and never brings up her concern again by their next conversation. Chloe takes up so much page time that her behavior becomes distracting.
Despite my own low review, I don’t think that the majority of other negative reviews (at this time) are that valid. Many reviews are lamenting that this book isn’t gay enough. Where did they get the idea that this was some novel of lesbian yearning and obsession? I’m not sure. I guess the description says that she is “in love with her therapist” but at the very start it is clear that this is not a romantic obsession. It’s also not, as I mentioned at the start, a thriller with some insane twist like other popular novels at the moment. It just feels a bit unfair to rate a book based on what you thought it would be, rather than on its own merits.
All together, I did not enjoy much of my time with this novel. The writing itself, the prose and dialogue, are written well enough. It is not a juvenile attempt at a novel and Sylvie feel’s like a real-enough person. I also especially like how the therapist remains unnamed to use and is just a plot device for Sylvie to bounce her thoughts off of. But, as it is, I felt nothing but either boredom or slight irritation while reading this.
I think I missed the point of this one. Happiness Forever introduces us to Sylvie. She’s 30 years old, recently out of an abusive, over-controlling relationship with a man, had done a good amount of drugs as a teen but has stayed sober since, and is starting therapy for the first time. And, she's completely obsessed with her 60-something year old unnamed therapist.
Okay, I have not read Big Swiss or any of those other grand obsession stories that other reviews are lamenting this to have not been like. I do agree, though, that nothing insane or random happens in this book. There is no grand twist where Sylvie kidnaps her therapist or kills her husband or anything of that sort. This is more of a “sit and experience life with this woman during a time of healing” book. We meet a new friend with Sylvie, talk to an old one, go to therapy, and get coffee. It’s comfortable, in a way, with just a backdrop of obsession.
There are a lot of little recurring details that I think are supposed to come together as this grand showcase of symbolism. Her love of Pierrot the clown since childhood, her brain-damaged dog that she thinks might hold her dead dad’s spirit, her detailing of every outfit the therapist wears for each of their sessions, the numerous books and movies brought up (that I recognized none of and am not sure if they are fictional or not), and Sylvie’s obsession with the idea that people live in different worlds (particularly the successful and unsuccessful world). These just name a few. Other than a few obvious ones, Pierrot’s story of unrequited love mirror’s Sylvie’s own obsession with her therapist (this one is essentially spelt out, though), I could not link them together into some grand idea. Maybe I would have liked this book much better if I was able to understand (if there is something to connect), but as of now they seem like needless details of Sylvie that the author stuck in from her own life.
The majority of the book takes place within Sylvie’s weekly therapy sessions. Here, we get the dialogue between her and her therapist, as well as Sylvie’s thoughts. There are some funny details within these scenes, Sylvie’s irritation at her therapist needing to stifle a yawn being one of them, but otherwise they are just standard talk-therapy sessions. There is not some grand juxtapose between what Sylvie is saying and thinking in terms of her obsession. She says a few out of pocket things at times related to her obsession, but the therapist remains professional and either ignores or helps her rationalize it. It’s so basic and general that there’s nothing to latch onto. Sylvie is fine, but not interesting enough of a character to have me hanging off of every word. I also already hate how therapists talk, so I was constantly eye-rolling at the therapist’s dialogue. Genuinely a problem as I am the one who picked up a book about a woman being obsessed with her therapist and I should give props at how the author collected every single stock therapist response into one novel. Beyond that, though, none of Sylvie’s tales about her ex-boyfriends, her job, her father, or any of her other escapades are interesting enough to hold my attention, even without the therapist's comments irritating me.
Near the start of the novel, Sylvie makes friends with a woman named Chloe. I do not like or understand Chloe at all. The thing with Chloe is that she is somehow so similar to Sylvie. They had the same childhood love of Pierrot, they like the same books and movies, they have a real similar sense of humor, on and on. Again, I don’t understand the significance of this detail of Chloe’s character. At times, she seems to have this vision of who Sylvie could be if she was in the “successful world”, as she calls it, but Sylvie doesn’t seem to be that much more well-off than Sylvie? Sylvie acts like she is so poor and unsuccessful, but she has a house, a car, a dog, can afford weekly therapy sessions (UK healthcare, I suppose), and works a full time job as a vet-tech (who admittedly don’t make a lot). I just don’t follow how Sylvie constantly acts like she is some grand unsuccessful failure. Yes, coming out of an abusive relationship affects how a person views themselves, but we don’t really get to see any sign of that with Sylvie.
Anyways, Chloe speaks very similarly to Sylvie. I listened to the audiobook where the narrator made no attempts to distinguish her voice between characters. Coupled with the lack of dialogue tags, I was constantly getting mixed up on who was talking at times. Chloe and Sylvie’s conversations were the main culprit of this, as they speak so similarly. It gets boring after a point. On top of this, almost every conversation with Chloe feels like a slightly more casual therapy conversation. A few near the end break this pattern and get better, but why are there two friends only ever talking about Sylvie’s problems? It’s a shorter book, yes, but surely some variation could have occurred. I’m bored. There’s nothing poignant or revealing enough in these conversations to warrant their frequency or length. There are times where you can tell that the author believes that she has written some grand, beautiful, life-changing line, but, in reality, it is either extremely basic or just cringe. I don’t think any of the writing has left some grand impact on me.
Continuing with Chloe, I don’t understand if I am supposed to like her. I found her to be constantly enabling Sylvie’s obsession with her therapist. She is constantly joking along with or genuinely listening to Sylvie’s obsession. Like, this is concerning even if Chloe assumes she’s harmless. Why is it treated like a normal thing by Chloe? At least Sylvie’s other friend, Conrad (who shows up like three short times over text) tells her to knock it off. Near the end, Chloe says that she is worried about Sylvie’s obsession, but, like, you’ve been joking with her and egging her on this whole time? But, then, she goes back to normal and never brings up her concern again by their next conversation. Chloe takes up so much page time that her behavior becomes distracting.
Despite my own low review, I don’t think that the majority of other negative reviews (at this time) are that valid. Many reviews are lamenting that this book isn’t gay enough. Where did they get the idea that this was some novel of lesbian yearning and obsession? I’m not sure. I guess the description says that she is “in love with her therapist” but at the very start it is clear that this is not a romantic obsession. It’s also not, as I mentioned at the start, a thriller with some insane twist like other popular novels at the moment. It just feels a bit unfair to rate a book based on what you thought it would be, rather than on its own merits.
All together, I did not enjoy much of my time with this novel. The writing itself, the prose and dialogue, are written well enough. It is not a juvenile attempt at a novel and Sylvie feel’s like a real-enough person. I also especially like how the therapist remains unnamed to use and is just a plot device for Sylvie to bounce her thoughts off of. But, as it is, I felt nothing but either boredom or slight irritation while reading this.
September 11, 2025
this book's thematic question (in my eyes): can a human love the way a dog loves without it being unacceptable and distressing?
this is one of those weird little books that I just love against the general opinion. it felt like there was no ultimate "point"; we are just exploring the human condition through one individual, in a way that is equally depressing, concerning, and comforting (mostly in that order). there was kind of a curve for me, where spending time with this protagonist felt very disparaging to me at first, but as time went on I felt more of an understanding of her, and a strong sense of comfort began to set in. and maybe it's mean to say, but some of the comfort came from feeling like "maybe I'm not doing life wrong... actually, maybe I am doing a LOT better than I could be" lol.
a comprehensive look at one character's psyche, bundled up in a pierrot-print blanket. (I found a picture of the bedding she was describing in the book and was surprised to see it actually exists).
this is one of those weird little books that I just love against the general opinion. it felt like there was no ultimate "point"; we are just exploring the human condition through one individual, in a way that is equally depressing, concerning, and comforting (mostly in that order). there was kind of a curve for me, where spending time with this protagonist felt very disparaging to me at first, but as time went on I felt more of an understanding of her, and a strong sense of comfort began to set in. and maybe it's mean to say, but some of the comfort came from feeling like "maybe I'm not doing life wrong... actually, maybe I am doing a LOT better than I could be" lol.
a comprehensive look at one character's psyche, bundled up in a pierrot-print blanket. (I found a picture of the bedding she was describing in the book and was surprised to see it actually exists).
April 26, 2025
Sheila told me to!
"I think this is just where you get your kicks from."
"From staring at people I like and not talking to them?"
"Yes. I can see that you get a lot of enjoyment from it. Maybe this is just your thing."
"But if you think of humans," Sylvie says, "if you just picture a group of them, together, not drunk, and then you picture, say, a pack of dogs together, you definitely imagine the dogs happier, their tails wagging.”
"I think this is just where you get your kicks from."
"From staring at people I like and not talking to them?"
"Yes. I can see that you get a lot of enjoyment from it. Maybe this is just your thing."
"But if you think of humans," Sylvie says, "if you just picture a group of them, together, not drunk, and then you picture, say, a pack of dogs together, you definitely imagine the dogs happier, their tails wagging.”
May 11, 2025
Bingeable, fast-paced, and fun, Happiness Forever is a fantastic debut novel.
Sylvie wants to be in therapy forever, so much so that it consumes her. When she's not in therapy, she's thinking about therapy, and when she's not talking to her therapist, she's daydreaming about her or looking at the only three photos of her therapist that exist online.
I wanted this to be more weird and obsessive than it was. I don't know how to explain it, but I wanted more of a Big Swiss by Jen Beagin meets Ottessa Moshfegh's Eileen. Instead, I got a pretty mundane story. Give or take a few WILD comments made by our narrator, Sylvie, the relationship she has with her therapist is pretty boring. It's done intentionally and even mentioned in the novel about how Sylvie doesn't know anything about her, but as the reader what kept me reading was trying to see where this goes and if Sylvie goes off the deep end.
It's not that this was bad; it's just that I've read so much literary fiction, specifically books on obsession, that this doesn't stand out to me. It wouldn't be a top recommendation. With that being said, I don't deter you from reading this; in fact, if it was on your radar prior to this debut, I urge you to pick this up.
This title is set to release from FSG on May 13, 2025. Thank you to the publisher for this physical ARC. My review reflects the ARC edition.
Sylvie wants to be in therapy forever, so much so that it consumes her. When she's not in therapy, she's thinking about therapy, and when she's not talking to her therapist, she's daydreaming about her or looking at the only three photos of her therapist that exist online.
I wanted this to be more weird and obsessive than it was. I don't know how to explain it, but I wanted more of a Big Swiss by Jen Beagin meets Ottessa Moshfegh's Eileen. Instead, I got a pretty mundane story. Give or take a few WILD comments made by our narrator, Sylvie, the relationship she has with her therapist is pretty boring. It's done intentionally and even mentioned in the novel about how Sylvie doesn't know anything about her, but as the reader what kept me reading was trying to see where this goes and if Sylvie goes off the deep end.
It's not that this was bad; it's just that I've read so much literary fiction, specifically books on obsession, that this doesn't stand out to me. It wouldn't be a top recommendation. With that being said, I don't deter you from reading this; in fact, if it was on your radar prior to this debut, I urge you to pick this up.
This title is set to release from FSG on May 13, 2025. Thank you to the publisher for this physical ARC. My review reflects the ARC edition.
June 17, 2025
a quick, darkly humorous read but unfortunately it fell a bit short for me. this debut novel centers around sylvie, who is obsessed with her therapist and spends all her time in between appointments daydreaming about the next one. i’m not sure what else i wanted from this, because the plot is exactly what the synopsis describes, but i don’t see this one sticking with me.
we don’t know much about the therapist, which is to be expected as she refuses to overstep the boundaries of her relationship with sylvie. this makes the novel a great example of how we can become obsessed with random people that we know little about and the concept of transference, but at the same time i think it makes the stakes feel lower, as we're only witnessing one side of the relationship. we uncover sylvie’s past through her conversations with the therapist and a new friend she makes, but she felt limited in her growth throughout the course of the story and her conversations feel very repetitive. the book seems to be an accurate portrayal of this sort of situation, so it feels a bit wrong to fault it for that, but unfortunately it didn’t make it very compelling or memorable for me.
thank you to fsg and netgalley for the advanced digital copy!
we don’t know much about the therapist, which is to be expected as she refuses to overstep the boundaries of her relationship with sylvie. this makes the novel a great example of how we can become obsessed with random people that we know little about and the concept of transference, but at the same time i think it makes the stakes feel lower, as we're only witnessing one side of the relationship. we uncover sylvie’s past through her conversations with the therapist and a new friend she makes, but she felt limited in her growth throughout the course of the story and her conversations feel very repetitive. the book seems to be an accurate portrayal of this sort of situation, so it feels a bit wrong to fault it for that, but unfortunately it didn’t make it very compelling or memorable for me.
thank you to fsg and netgalley for the advanced digital copy!
November 28, 2025
0 character growth? I fell asleep at one point reading this book
April 7, 2025
4.5/5
This was just such an utter joy to read! I loved it from start to finish. For fans of Big Swiss! Thanks so much as always to 4th Estate for my copy, out 8th May!
This was just such an utter joy to read! I loved it from start to finish. For fans of Big Swiss! Thanks so much as always to 4th Estate for my copy, out 8th May!
August 13, 2025
A quick read with interesting, lovable characters
May 13, 2025
I really didn't want to be the first person to give it a one star..... I'm sorry, Adelaide! There are clearly lots of people out there who will/do like and love this, I was just not one of them. Keep writing and please, ignore my hater tendencies (I'm having a rough week lol)
I listened to this as part of Libro.fm's Librarian's ALC program. I thought I'd really enjoy this book, but it just really fell short and I spent most of my listening experience just waiting for it to be done.
I found it really unimaginative (the author works as a vet, lives in a seaside town, seems to have a crusty tiny dog, like i can only imagine that Sylvie is a fragment of the authors own identity & experiences), the story is a little too straightforward while never *really* delving into any particular element, and ultimately, it is not very queer at all (Sylvie even says she thinks she likes the top part of women and the lower part of men, which like... sure that could be queer but does it not feel a little wrong....) and I can understand or even agree where some people see the queerness (in the unhinged behavior, the homoerotic friendship, the obvious obsession, but I really don't think it's enough to label it as Lesbian.... I mean ffs, it feels like half the book is talking about her ex-boyfriends and then with the therapist, i feel like she just is obsessed with the love and care, rather than the person because eventually she just tries to find a replacement THERAPIST!)
Perhaps i am not queer enough to understand (eyeroll) but I just wanted more out of this book. I think it had great potential and could've benefitted from more drama, but it was very direct and shallow
I listened to this as part of Libro.fm's Librarian's ALC program. I thought I'd really enjoy this book, but it just really fell short and I spent most of my listening experience just waiting for it to be done.
I found it really unimaginative (the author works as a vet, lives in a seaside town, seems to have a crusty tiny dog, like i can only imagine that Sylvie is a fragment of the authors own identity & experiences), the story is a little too straightforward while never *really* delving into any particular element, and ultimately, it is not very queer at all (Sylvie even says she thinks she likes the top part of women and the lower part of men, which like... sure that could be queer but does it not feel a little wrong....) and I can understand or even agree where some people see the queerness (in the unhinged behavior, the homoerotic friendship, the obvious obsession, but I really don't think it's enough to label it as Lesbian.... I mean ffs, it feels like half the book is talking about her ex-boyfriends and then with the therapist, i feel like she just is obsessed with the love and care, rather than the person because eventually she just tries to find a replacement THERAPIST!)
Perhaps i am not queer enough to understand (eyeroll) but I just wanted more out of this book. I think it had great potential and could've benefitted from more drama, but it was very direct and shallow
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
June 5, 2025
2.5 stars — I guess happiness isn’t forever after all.
Reading Happiness Forever by Adelaide Faith felt like being promised a rollercoaster and ending up on one of those airport walkways that almost moves. It starts off with a few glimmers of intrigue—like someone shook a snow globe and you’re waiting for the big scene—but then it just… flattens. The plot kind of wandered around like it lost its GPS signal and just hoped we’d be chill with it.
I kept waiting for a twist, a spark, something to yell “plot development incoming!” But nope. It was like sitting in a therapy session where no one talks, but we’re all thinking really hard. And the ending? Oof. It hit like when you reach the end of a puzzle and realize you’re missing the last piece. I actually sat there like: Wait… was that it? Did I blink and miss the soul of the story?
It left me with more confusion than closure. I wanted introspection and heart, but it felt more like a journal entry that forgot to get personal. Maybe I just wasn’t the right reader for this one. Or maybe I need to reread it with a bottle of wine and a highlighter to figure out if I missed the hidden message.
If you like quiet existential wandering with an emotionally ambiguous shrug at the end, you might vibe with it. For me, it was like a mindfulness retreat with no snacks. I wanted more flavor, more fire, more feels. Instead, I got “meh.”
Reading Happiness Forever by Adelaide Faith felt like being promised a rollercoaster and ending up on one of those airport walkways that almost moves. It starts off with a few glimmers of intrigue—like someone shook a snow globe and you’re waiting for the big scene—but then it just… flattens. The plot kind of wandered around like it lost its GPS signal and just hoped we’d be chill with it.
I kept waiting for a twist, a spark, something to yell “plot development incoming!” But nope. It was like sitting in a therapy session where no one talks, but we’re all thinking really hard. And the ending? Oof. It hit like when you reach the end of a puzzle and realize you’re missing the last piece. I actually sat there like: Wait… was that it? Did I blink and miss the soul of the story?
It left me with more confusion than closure. I wanted introspection and heart, but it felt more like a journal entry that forgot to get personal. Maybe I just wasn’t the right reader for this one. Or maybe I need to reread it with a bottle of wine and a highlighter to figure out if I missed the hidden message.
If you like quiet existential wandering with an emotionally ambiguous shrug at the end, you might vibe with it. For me, it was like a mindfulness retreat with no snacks. I wanted more flavor, more fire, more feels. Instead, I got “meh.”
June 7, 2025
IYKYK
July 17, 2025
Did I buy this book solely based on its cover? Yes. Was that a mistake? Also yes. 2⭐️s
December 13, 2025
maybe a 2.5
nothing sucks more than reading a book that you are expecting to absolutely love but it ends up being really disappointing
nothing sucks more than reading a book that you are expecting to absolutely love but it ends up being really disappointing
December 13, 2025
i liked the concept of this book but it was very much just vibes
May 22, 2025
Sylvie, our 30-year-old protagonist, attends therapy to process significant events in her life: her relationship with her parents before they died, the feelings of inferiority to her attractive peers in grade school, the loss of a boyfriend in her early 20s from a heroin overdose, and her controlling and emotionally abusive partner, Owen. On the surface, her toxic relationship with Owen requires immediate attention in therapy; Sylvie needs to relearn how to make meaningful connections. As with solidified problems that bubble over in adulthood, Sylvie must reach farther back into her childhood to consider the festering antecedents. An additional problem is her fervent attachment to her therapist, whom she sees once a week and lives in her mind rent-free. The therapist—what she wears, how she presents herself, where she lives, what she thinks about Sylvie—preoccupies Sylvie’s life.
Much of Happiness Forever takes place within Sylvie’s therapy sessions. In time, she increasingly dialogues with her new book club gal pal, Chloe, who works as a visual artist. The two women discover their shared appreciation for Pierrot since adolescence. For Sylvie, the pantomime character symbolizes her pining obsession for her therapist, suffering alone and voyeuristically observing others in the “successful world” from a distance. If Sylvie can maintain an independent lifestyle absent from disappointment and endings, she may preserve a sense of control and certainty. But she recognizes the life she wants to live inevitably requires levels of risk; she wants to open herself up to others and find acceptance. The therapist, Chloe, her dog Curtain, and her job slowly help her recalibrate to a healthier understanding of a stable and safe normalcy, yet include space for sadness.
I unintentionally read Happiness Forever in conjunction with Didion’s Notes to John. This odd parallel could have negatively affected my experience of Faith’s debut. What stands out most is this: Didion engages in lucid, two-way dialogues with her therapist; Faith’s severely emotionally stunted main character’s voice carries throughout the therapy sessions. The therapist’s counsel isn’t recorded, likely due to their differing therapy techniques and the clients’ respective challenges. That said, the symbolism in Happiness Forever could shine through more clearly if Faith (a) further developed the ideas or (b) dropped some. Sylvie’s fixation on her therapist, care for Curtain and animals at work, enjoyment of books, and early obsession with Pierrot all muddle together, making it unclear what Faith wanted to highlight. I don’t mind exclusively hearing Sylvie’s interior life (I enjoy a character-led story that lacks movement just fine) as I do the underdeveloped array of symbolic messages. Since this is Faith’s debut, I round up and rate Happiness Forever 1.5 stars.
My thanks to Farrar, Straus and Giroux and NetGalley for an ARC.
Much of Happiness Forever takes place within Sylvie’s therapy sessions. In time, she increasingly dialogues with her new book club gal pal, Chloe, who works as a visual artist. The two women discover their shared appreciation for Pierrot since adolescence. For Sylvie, the pantomime character symbolizes her pining obsession for her therapist, suffering alone and voyeuristically observing others in the “successful world” from a distance. If Sylvie can maintain an independent lifestyle absent from disappointment and endings, she may preserve a sense of control and certainty. But she recognizes the life she wants to live inevitably requires levels of risk; she wants to open herself up to others and find acceptance. The therapist, Chloe, her dog Curtain, and her job slowly help her recalibrate to a healthier understanding of a stable and safe normalcy, yet include space for sadness.
I unintentionally read Happiness Forever in conjunction with Didion’s Notes to John. This odd parallel could have negatively affected my experience of Faith’s debut. What stands out most is this: Didion engages in lucid, two-way dialogues with her therapist; Faith’s severely emotionally stunted main character’s voice carries throughout the therapy sessions. The therapist’s counsel isn’t recorded, likely due to their differing therapy techniques and the clients’ respective challenges. That said, the symbolism in Happiness Forever could shine through more clearly if Faith (a) further developed the ideas or (b) dropped some. Sylvie’s fixation on her therapist, care for Curtain and animals at work, enjoyment of books, and early obsession with Pierrot all muddle together, making it unclear what Faith wanted to highlight. I don’t mind exclusively hearing Sylvie’s interior life (I enjoy a character-led story that lacks movement just fine) as I do the underdeveloped array of symbolic messages. Since this is Faith’s debut, I round up and rate Happiness Forever 1.5 stars.
My thanks to Farrar, Straus and Giroux and NetGalley for an ARC.
August 15, 2025
I love the concept of this story, and I liked the quirky characters, but kept waiting for something more to happen. I love literary fiction, knowing that it isn’t very plot heavy, but it really did just feel like a transcript of therapy sessions with not a ton of resolve.
If you’re looking for a meditative read where nothing surprising happens, this could be for you.
If you’re looking for a meditative read where nothing surprising happens, this could be for you.
June 7, 2025
The most unhinged thing that happens in this book is the main character, who’s a vet nurse, saying “all dogs are nice” and “I’d let any dog lick my face”.
May 11, 2025
Adelaide Faith's debut novel Happiness Forever arrives as both a searing examination of contemporary mental health culture and a genuinely funny exploration of what happens when professional boundaries collide with the messy reality of human desire. It's the kind of book that makes you laugh out loud one moment and question the entire framework of therapeutic relationships the next.
The premise is deceptively simple: Sylvie, a veterinary nurse whose life feels perpetually out of focus, falls deeply, irrevocably in love with her therapist. But Faith transforms this potentially problematic setup into something far more nuanced—a meditation on connection, loneliness, and the ways we construct meaning from the smallest interactions when we're desperate to feel seen.
The Architecture of Obsession
Faith's portrayal of Sylvie's obsession is meticulous and uncomfortable in all the right ways. Rather than romanticizing this attachment, she lays bare its mechanics with surgical precision. Sylvie calculates the exact number of hours between sessions (167 hours and 10 minutes), notices everything from the therapist's ring placement to her changing hair color, and constructs elaborate fantasies from minimal encounters.
What's remarkable is how Faith avoids making Sylvie either pathetic or predatory. Instead, she emerges as achingly human—someone whose capacity for deep feeling has found its only safe outlet in the structured confines of the therapy room. The author captures something essential about the paradox of modern therapeutic relationships: the promise of unconditional acceptance creates conditions ripe for attachment, yet professional boundaries ensure that attachment can never be fully reciprocated.
Supporting Characters as Narrative Mirrors
The cast of supporting characters serves as both comic relief and thematic counterpoint. Chloe, Sylvie's new friend, functions as a kind of reality check—someone who inhabits the "successful world" that Sylvie feels excluded from yet maintains her own relationship with longing and artistic ambition. Their friendship develops with genuine warmth, providing crucial contrast to the one-sided intensity of the therapeutic relationship.
Even Curtains, Sylvie's brain-damaged dog, becomes more than comic relief. Through her relationship with this imperfect creature, we see glimpses of Sylvie's capacity for uncomplicated love—a capacity that seems blocked in her human relationships by layers of self-doubt and trauma.
Faith's Distinctive Voice
Adelaide Faith writes with a voice that feels simultaneously modern and timeless. Her prose moves between sharp observation and surreal imagery with remarkable fluidity. When Sylvie describes feeling like "an arrow pointing towards Sandy" or imagines her disappointment as "a grey lump made of something fatty," we're given access to an interior world that's both specific and universally recognizable.
The author's background as a veterinary nurse clearly informs the clinical precision with which she describes both animal care and emotional states. There's something fitting about this—the same careful attention required to monitor a dog's vital signs is applied to cataloging the minutiae of romantic fixation.
Structural Brilliance
The book's structure mirrors its subject matter beautifully. Each chapter title consists of just two words, creating a staccato rhythm that echoes Sylvie's fragmented internal state. Sessions become marked time, creating a framework that gives order to chaos while simultaneously highlighting the artificial nature of therapeutic boundaries.
Faith weaves cultural references throughout—from Nick Cave to Pierrot, from reality television to art performances—creating a rich tapestry that places Sylvie's experience within broader contexts of art, music, and popular culture. These references never feel forced but instead illuminate different facets of contemporary loneliness and the search for connection.
The Ethics of Emotional Labor
One of the novel's strongest achievements is its exploration of the emotional labor inherent in therapy. The therapist, never named, emerges as a complex figure—professional, kind, yet necessarily distant. Faith raises provocative questions about the sustainability of such one-sided emotional relationships and their impact on both parties.
The ending, with therapy concluding and Sylvie forced to reimagine her relationship to happiness, feels both inevitable and heartbreaking. Faith doesn't offer easy resolutions but instead suggests that growth might come from accepting the impossibility of certain connections while remaining open to others.
Minor Missteps
While Happiness Forever excels in its psychological insight and characterization, there are moments where the pacing drags slightly. Sylvie's internal monologues, while generally compelling, occasionally become repetitive. Some readers might find her obsessiveness genuinely uncomfortable, though this discomfort seems intentional.
The novel's exploration of class dynamics—Sylvie's fixation on the "successful world" versus her own "unsuccessful" one—could have been developed further. While these themes add depth, they sometimes feel underdeveloped compared to the central relationship.
Final Verdict
Happiness Forever succeeds as both entertainment and art, which is no small feat. Faith has crafted a novel that's funny, smart, and surprisingly moving—one that takes its characters' emotional lives seriously while maintaining enough ironic distance to avoid melodrama.
At its core, this is a book about the human need for connection and the various ways we seek it, from the structured intimacy of therapy to the unstructured possibilities of friendship. It suggests that perhaps what we call "happiness forever" might be less about finding permanent solutions to emotional wounds and more about accepting the ongoing, complicated work of being human.
The premise is deceptively simple: Sylvie, a veterinary nurse whose life feels perpetually out of focus, falls deeply, irrevocably in love with her therapist. But Faith transforms this potentially problematic setup into something far more nuanced—a meditation on connection, loneliness, and the ways we construct meaning from the smallest interactions when we're desperate to feel seen.
The Architecture of Obsession
Faith's portrayal of Sylvie's obsession is meticulous and uncomfortable in all the right ways. Rather than romanticizing this attachment, she lays bare its mechanics with surgical precision. Sylvie calculates the exact number of hours between sessions (167 hours and 10 minutes), notices everything from the therapist's ring placement to her changing hair color, and constructs elaborate fantasies from minimal encounters.
What's remarkable is how Faith avoids making Sylvie either pathetic or predatory. Instead, she emerges as achingly human—someone whose capacity for deep feeling has found its only safe outlet in the structured confines of the therapy room. The author captures something essential about the paradox of modern therapeutic relationships: the promise of unconditional acceptance creates conditions ripe for attachment, yet professional boundaries ensure that attachment can never be fully reciprocated.
Supporting Characters as Narrative Mirrors
The cast of supporting characters serves as both comic relief and thematic counterpoint. Chloe, Sylvie's new friend, functions as a kind of reality check—someone who inhabits the "successful world" that Sylvie feels excluded from yet maintains her own relationship with longing and artistic ambition. Their friendship develops with genuine warmth, providing crucial contrast to the one-sided intensity of the therapeutic relationship.
Even Curtains, Sylvie's brain-damaged dog, becomes more than comic relief. Through her relationship with this imperfect creature, we see glimpses of Sylvie's capacity for uncomplicated love—a capacity that seems blocked in her human relationships by layers of self-doubt and trauma.
Faith's Distinctive Voice
Adelaide Faith writes with a voice that feels simultaneously modern and timeless. Her prose moves between sharp observation and surreal imagery with remarkable fluidity. When Sylvie describes feeling like "an arrow pointing towards Sandy" or imagines her disappointment as "a grey lump made of something fatty," we're given access to an interior world that's both specific and universally recognizable.
The author's background as a veterinary nurse clearly informs the clinical precision with which she describes both animal care and emotional states. There's something fitting about this—the same careful attention required to monitor a dog's vital signs is applied to cataloging the minutiae of romantic fixation.
Structural Brilliance
The book's structure mirrors its subject matter beautifully. Each chapter title consists of just two words, creating a staccato rhythm that echoes Sylvie's fragmented internal state. Sessions become marked time, creating a framework that gives order to chaos while simultaneously highlighting the artificial nature of therapeutic boundaries.
Faith weaves cultural references throughout—from Nick Cave to Pierrot, from reality television to art performances—creating a rich tapestry that places Sylvie's experience within broader contexts of art, music, and popular culture. These references never feel forced but instead illuminate different facets of contemporary loneliness and the search for connection.
The Ethics of Emotional Labor
One of the novel's strongest achievements is its exploration of the emotional labor inherent in therapy. The therapist, never named, emerges as a complex figure—professional, kind, yet necessarily distant. Faith raises provocative questions about the sustainability of such one-sided emotional relationships and their impact on both parties.
The ending, with therapy concluding and Sylvie forced to reimagine her relationship to happiness, feels both inevitable and heartbreaking. Faith doesn't offer easy resolutions but instead suggests that growth might come from accepting the impossibility of certain connections while remaining open to others.
Minor Missteps
While Happiness Forever excels in its psychological insight and characterization, there are moments where the pacing drags slightly. Sylvie's internal monologues, while generally compelling, occasionally become repetitive. Some readers might find her obsessiveness genuinely uncomfortable, though this discomfort seems intentional.
The novel's exploration of class dynamics—Sylvie's fixation on the "successful world" versus her own "unsuccessful" one—could have been developed further. While these themes add depth, they sometimes feel underdeveloped compared to the central relationship.
Final Verdict
Happiness Forever succeeds as both entertainment and art, which is no small feat. Faith has crafted a novel that's funny, smart, and surprisingly moving—one that takes its characters' emotional lives seriously while maintaining enough ironic distance to avoid melodrama.
At its core, this is a book about the human need for connection and the various ways we seek it, from the structured intimacy of therapy to the unstructured possibilities of friendship. It suggests that perhaps what we call "happiness forever" might be less about finding permanent solutions to emotional wounds and more about accepting the ongoing, complicated work of being human.
August 31, 2025
Weird but interesting
November 5, 2025
I loved this book. I really related to Sylvie's struggle to understand her place in the world while working through her mental health and the way it shows up as obsessions and repetitive thoughts in her life.
Bonus points for Curtains who was just a little derpy and special, and reminded me of my late doggy.
Bonus points for Curtains who was just a little derpy and special, and reminded me of my late doggy.
August 17, 2025
When I first read what this book was about… It reminded me of a book that I read a while back… Eleanor Olyphant is completely fine. There were some similarities, as the main character in this book, Happiness Forever, Sylvie is seeing a therapist. I wasn’t sure what I thought of the book at the beginning… But I am happy that I read it to the end. it gave me insight for individuals who struggle with life in general and even individuals seeing a therapist. We all deserve happiness. Happiness comes in different packages, but the bottom line… Companionship, and friendship is the best happiness of all :-)
August 21, 2025
El problema del libro es que siempre esperé que pasara un plot twist y es una historia simple: aunque muy red flag la terapeuta: si mi paciente me dice que piensa en mí 600 veces al día, no lo normalizo
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