John Robins is a critically acclaimed stand-up comedian, Taskmaster champion, and an award-winning broadcaster. He is also an alcoholic.
But what does that mean? What is an alcoholic?
In Thirst, John tells the story of his life through the lens of alcohol, the drinks that made him, and those that broke him. From his earliest drinking experiences – pretending to be drunk after a sip of champagne aged five, spraying aftershave into his mouth at the school play afterparty, and university nights spent downing red wine alone in his room – to his last drink in 2022 and the journey into sobriety that followed, John explores our relationship with alcohol through reflections on decades of his own drinking.
From hazy memory to sudden clarity he sheds light on subjects from mental health to friendship, from creativity to the lies we tell ourselves, and answers questions such are alcoholics born or made? How can we make sense of youthful missteps? And can Buddhism provide relief when dealing with haemorrhoids?
Filled with insights and epiphanies from the world of addiction and recovery, Thirst blends John’s trademark raw honesty and hilarious digressions with the collective wisdom of alcoholics and those around them to offer a compelling, powerful and morbidly funny narrative for anyone who has ever asked 'why do we drink?', 'why do I drink?' or 'do I drink too much?'.
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I hadn’t heard of John Robins before this, but the subject matter alone was enough to pull me in. Having spent years working in emergency medicine, with a particular interest in mental health and substance misuse, I was very curious about this one when Viking sent a proof my way.
It did not disappoint.
Thirst is sharp, sad, funny, and far more affecting than I expected it to be. Robins writes about alcohol with a kind of brutal clarity, tracing his life through the drinks that marked it, shaped it, excused it, and eventually helped expose just how much was unravelling underneath. It’s not sensationalised, and it’s not self-pitying either. In fact, one of the most striking things about it is how steady the tone feels, even when he’s writing about things that are messy, painful, or hard to sit with.
There’s a real tenderness to this book. Beneath the humour and the digressions and the brilliantly observed bits of self-awareness, it’s a story about vulnerability, denial, loneliness, and the long, slow business of telling yourself the truth. It asks difficult questions about why people drink, what alcohol covers up, and how hard it can be to separate drinking culture from drinking problems in a world that makes so much space for one and so little for the other.
What I really appreciated was that it never tips into being preachy or judgemental. Robins is honest about the damage, honest about the absurdity, and honest about himself.
It isn’t always an easy read, nor should it be, but there’s still something unexpectedly hopeful running through it. Dryly funny, moving, and thoughtful, this is a really powerful memoir.
Thanks to the publisher for kindly sending me a proof copy. All opinions my own.
Listened by audiobook. Having listened to Robins on the Elis James and John Robins show every week for the last ten years of my life, I thought I understood his psyche a fair bit but this was another level. Genuinely so dark but eye-opening and inspiring and beautifully written that I think I'm going to buy the physical book too just so I can savour some of the passages.
Came to read my favourite podcaster’s new book about booze. Stayed for one of the most moving, self-aware and thought provoking memoirs I have ever read. Wanted to take a highlighter and mark all the pearls of wisdom that I couldn’t stop thinking about.
I grew up around alcoholics. Both my parents struggled with drink, although they're both sober in their own ways these days (one's dead, one is actually so), and as someone who also likes a drink, I spend a lot of time looking over my own shoulder, wondering if I'm going to follow that route. Truthfully, I think my relationship with booze is fine, I enjoy a few pints on the weekend, but I never drink when I shouldn't, never go too hard when I need to keep it quiet. I've been lucky.
That didn't mean I didn't relate to a lot of this book, though. I've always found the way John talks about alcohol interesting. That craving for something that doesn't really exist but that the booze tricks you into believing that tonight it might. I understand how you might struggle to walk away from that. I don't think either of my parents idolised booze the way he did, but I see the paths that connect to their own battles. The need for escape and destruction.
Of course, it also helps that I'm a fan of his work. I think he's funny and smart, and I hope I'm lucky enough to have one friend who would write as beautifully about me as he does the people he loves. Yes, he can be a bit self-pitying and melodramatic, but he recognises that in himself, which, at least for me, makes it easier to forgive. He's accepted his own flaws.
Anyway, I thought the book was witty and tragic as it made me cry more than once, but it also made me laugh a lot. I'm proud of John, a man I've never met, for the journey he's gone on, and I hope it's able to inspire others to do the same.
I finished Thirst yesterday and was compelled for the first time to leave a review. This is an excellent book. I was trying to think why it resonated so deeply with me and I think it’s because it’s incredibly brave and honest. I feel like John has gone one step further than most alcoholics do he has shared his experience strength and hope, something which Alcoholics usually do in 20 mins in a dusty church Hall, with the world. It feels like he has written a main share and published it for the world to see. Usually when we alcoholics share our stories it is to a group of like minded people. People who we know understand and “get it”. We know that however dark our own experience has been someone else in the room will have done the same or worse. You can share something incredibly embarrassing just to look up and see 30 people nodding in agreement or chuckling along think “gosh we were mad weren’t we”. But to publish it for “normal people” to read is incredibly brave! I don’t think I have ever read something which has captured the inner monologue of the alcoholic so perfectly. The constant bargaining that goes on within your own head and the mad decisions that are made in order to get to a drink. It sounds strange to say this of someone I don’t know but I finished the book feeling proud of John. There is also an incredible amount of hope within this book. Equally he doesn’t sugar coat anything. I don’t know anyone who has stopped drinking who is suddenly “fixed” as soon as they put the drink down. Most people I have met stop drinking and then are left with the task of trying to live life feeling like they have had the top layer of their skin removed. Thank you John for putting this out into the world.
I love this book, already recommended it to many people when i wasn’t even finished. John talks about the most dreadful things in his life but in the funniest way, and really opens your eyes to why we might choose to drink. Read it!
So compassionate, vulnerable and still manages to be funny. Listened to the audiobook and will go out and pick up the physical copy I loved it soo much
A Robins Amongst the Pigeons (uncensored) The book sits in the uneasy space between the reverie and romanticism John has for drinking, and the stark reality of his addiction. This space is where I think our societal relationship with alcohol is, especially in the UK. At times, the book is uncomfortably relatable to one’s own relationship with drugs and alcohol, as well as that of loved ones, especially those no longer with us. I was really struck by how John outlines the transportive power of booze. This ability to transform becomes irresistible in the form of liquid nostalgia. A certain drink or brand can transport you through space and time, either into your own past or an imagined alternative life. The associations you draw from adverts, film, or music can trick your mind. Much like hiraeth, this does not necessarily link to your own lived nostalgia, but potentially to an imagined nostalgia. Alcohol can make you feel like someone else or transport you back in time through taste, smell, and memory. It’s the ultimate escapism from personal anxiety. Highlights of the book include his jaw-dropping chapter on betting companies and his own addiction to gambling, discussions around the bag of death (for fans of the pod), the Oxford poetry anecdote, and the fantastically beautiful way John discusses friendship. Finally, I love how John writes about those early musical and cultural obsessions, and how they link to fashion, personal identity, and friendships. It’s hard to underestimate how powerful those things are during your teenage years.
As anybody who is familiar with John Robins’ work will expect, this book is full of his trademark humour, wisdom, and candidness whilst dealing with some pretty bleak subject matter around alcoholism, childhood trauma, and navigating his sobriety. There are sections of the book that are so ‘in the moment’ of his addiction that you get passages in real time of him actively fighting his “thirst” which was such a fascinating aspect of the book.
At no points is this book “preachy”. And he treats the parts of the book that involve other people with great care and balances telling his story without exposing too much of the other people involved.
As someone who doesn’t have a difficult relationship with alcohol, nor knows anybody who does, there were still many insights I was able to take away from this book around sitting with pain/discomfort and altering how we speak to ourselves. But also just being able to learn a bit more about alcoholism as a disease.
3.5 I listened to the audio book and found it both interesting and thought provoking. It brought up insights and topics I'd never considered before, especially the idea of the "sober alcoholic" and how hard life can be, and how hard being around these people can be [if they don't do the corresponding work to address the issue]. It did get me to think about my own relationship with alcohol and help me to reflect a bit on "where I'm at" I found this both useful and reassuring. For me, John Robins humour isn't really my cup of tea. He narrated the book and I kindof just find him quite irritating. I spent a while reflecting on why, as he seems perfectly nice and I think that's the issue. He tries so hard to be nice, and considerate and "not tell anyone else's story" that I didn't believe we were ever really getting the truth.
I have never wanted to hug an author more. This is bravery, not giving up, facing the fear that is living. I feel grateful to have stumbled upon his work years ago and now to have read this book. I am thankful that John has allowed the world to read it, because those who read it have an opportunity to learn so much about themselves. I know I have.
Extraordinarily sad, but never self-pitying, John Robins writes with bleak honesty and a formidable capacity for self-reflection.
A chance to understand more about someone who, thanks to Elis James and John Robins podcast, occupies a wildly disproportionate and potentially concerning amount of space in my life.
Consumed this in audio book format - highly recommend this way! One comedian’s devastating, shocking and at times beautiful account of his journey through alcoholism and all that it is and all that it destroyed. Far funnier than I’m making it sound I promise! Could probably be a bit shorter.
bloody hell John! I thought I’d listened to enough hours of Elis and John to know what I was signing myself up for but I was so wrong. This was even deeper and darker than I’d expected with his characteristic humour, self-awareness and, crucially, hope
So beautifully written. Devastatingly sad at times, but also many moments where I LOL'd (lungs being described as nature's can of decompressed air, "back street arse surgery" etc 🤣). Loved this book so much
4.5. Really liked John Robins and this made me like him even more. Cracked me up and made me think about my own (probably) dysfunctional relationship with alcohol.
4.5. whether or not you’re a jonny jr fan, if you have a human brain and or feelings, you will get something from this book. even more so if you know any addicts. audiobook format recommended. also fuck the gambling industry so bad
As a listener to John's podcasts this was always going to be a must-read for me. 'Thirst' gives an incredibly honest, thoughtful account of his life from childhood through to his journey to sobriety. Anyone who has struggled with their mental health or their relationship with themselves will take something away from this book. And yes, I did laugh (and cry).
Johnny JR (one half of Britain's youngest and most relevant broadcasting duo) has only gone and written a bloody good book about being an alcoholic! It's insightful, moving, and darkly funny, and it was so interesting to plot his journey along notable events and memories from the Elis and John podcast, reminding us that even in the most joyous moments, many people are struggling through things no one knows about. Sometimes even intimate bum procedures.
John’s ability to pen the urgency and serenity of an addict hit me like a tonne of bricks. He has articulated the indescribable with integrity, loyalty and respect. He has set a new tone for our response to addicts, and he has shone a light on friendship; the receipt and promulgation of pure, unabridged love and respect.
Based on the title, I am upset there was never a joke here about water, wine and the twelve disciples.
Joking might be a good place to start. This is not that funny as an audiobook. I get the feeling it’s better written down. It is narrated by John Robbins himself so listeners get the benefit of the expected delivery. However, quite a lot of the jokes feel slightly too dry on a first impression, and the set up can get missed. But sometimes the funny part is how exasperated the author can swear, so maybe the book has a lot of repeated letters. It got me only a few times, which a book authored by a comedian should be aiming higher than. I’ve never watched Robbins outside of Taskmaster and panel shows so maybe I clash with his humour. Yet it was surprising how not-funny the book was because, that aside, Robbins comes across incredibly well.
I’ve a soft spot for books written by Brits with an average amount of privilege who take up several chapters apologising for their lottery. It is surprisingly refreshing how honestly Robbins confesses to being pretty normal as if it were something embarrassing. My theory is that this is because moving in artistic and joyful circles naturally encourages people with lifestyles on the fringe to appear mainstream and extremely cool. Which they are, but at the same time I do like it when Robbins confesses to being completely unable to talk about what it must be like to not be privileged, and then does an absolutely phenomenal job talking about feeling ostracised. It’s bloody wholesome.
Slight disclaimer, but I’m told Robbins ha had a couple of public break ups which led to a few negative stories. Robbins absolutely acknowledges these, and puts a very clear ‘people are allowed to tell their stories just as I’m allowed to tell mine’ somewhere in the first few chapters. I find this kind of approach very cool, but others might think it is some sort of crafty chess move. If you’re coming to the book for gossip or hearsay, this might not be for you. Robbins comes off throughout as a very thoughtful author who has an opportunity to reflect on his life and get paid a lot of money for it through a book.
Onto the crunch of it, this is one of the best books about mental health, societal expectations, British culture and expectations of public figures I’ve ever read. It is superb. I even liked the parts where Robbins got overexcited and pretended he was John Donne. It is really good. Robbins looks at his life, writes a memoir and takes a specific lens to it. He looks at his life as someone who is now sober, and considers things through that teleology. He comes across as deeply anxious, in such a great way. Robbins flags how whilst his anxiety can be crippling and push him to drink in excess, it also gives him a reflectiveness. He fills his life with journals and spreadsheets of all the parts of his life he finds interesting. Thought the book, he makes peace with this as something that is a part of him, and constantly figuring out where the boundary is not because he’s not figured it out but because it is a moving target. I’m a sucker for this kind of life view, and I love spreadsheets. If his publisher has any guts they’ll release the paperback with the spreadsheets in an appendix or pdf.
That sounds like a whole book, but what I’ve described is a summary of one part of a volumes work, the real heart of which is alcohol. Robbins’ reflections here don’t do well to summarise because, as he states out in a bonus chapter for audiobook listeners, it takes a book to spell it out. Robbins’ memoir is excellent because he is not trying to persuade a reader not to drink. Like many great works of art about substance abuse, Robbins does not shy away from why people drink. The way he describes a pint, or a rum and coke, is genuinely mouth watering. And he doesn’t punish the reader for thinking this, he agrees and it creates a wonderful relationship within the book. Robbins never stops wrestling with sobriety and there are multiple instances where he reflects on what he has just written.
It is rare that I am grateful for a book lacking polish, but here it works to the books benefit. Taking a chatty tone was the right call here, and it works so well for an audiobook experience. The drawback is the humour and some of the more elegant pieces of writing passed me by. I was grateful for the slightly too nice bonus chapter where Robbins’ best friends read out parts of his book to him, and tell him how good he is. As crushingly awful as that sounds, it actually works because some chapters get very dark. Robbins shares an intense vulnerability with the reader in a way that hearing him at the end of a book have such loving mates is more heartwarming than gut churning.
I think this is excellent. I wish I was smart enough to summarise some of it better, but Robbins really has done some fantastic work here. It is the kind of material that I find actually helpful. Robbins does not shy away from platitudes but he does combine them with helpful discussions about preparing mental toolkits to deal with the bad times. No matter what lottery or lifestyle people fell into, everyone had horrible days and nobody feels tip top forever. Robbins’ book is a good memoir from his own experience. Take it or leave it whether it can offer you anything, but it offered me something, and for that I’m very grateful.
On the whole, it’s fine like a crisp 0% Cloudwater. Which means I liked it a lot, didn’t have as much of a laugh as expected but would have another.
I am just so in awe of how people can be so brave in talking about their addictions. Again, like ‘Famesick’, there are moments in here that are almost unbelievable — the ‘Petrol’ chapter especially. There’s a wonderful bit where Robins reminds his readers that our lows do not define us and you are likely not the freak-case you sometimes feel you are. His discussion of trauma recognition and recovery was especially cogent (even useful!) and resonated with some of my own experiences about trying to get better when it feels impossible. Also serves as a big reminder of how easy it is to be an alcoholic in the UK. I cried a lot. I am so happy he is able to share his story of sobriety — I only started following him and his work in his lead up to the London Marathon. As far as the structure and narrative voice, it felt a little too comedy shticky for me at times, but I completely understand that’s his primary audience. I am probably more of the weirdo for finding narratives about trauma and addiction comforting…
This is a difficult read, it just feels incredibly sad getting an insight into alcoholism from a sufferer. Its an incredibly complex condition which can have the worst consequences. I truly hope the author can continue with his sobriety.
I found the chapter on pain of particular interest & how even using the scale to rate your own helps put things into perspective, I loved the phrase "its only permanent in the moment"
There are certainly lots of tips for people who are dealing with alcoholism but this story is extremely beneficial to people who are trying to support an alcoholic friend / family member to get a better understanding of how they may act the way they do. The book certainly helps with starting a conversation & raising awareness of a condition that is very prevalent & as a society we shouldn't shy away from but instead try to determine the best long term treatment plans to help those suffering.
I could have got this copy signed after John’s book tour event in Edinburgh on 5 May, but I have a fear of meeting famous people so just went straight home, and when I read the line “love me! Love me! But for the love of god don’t look at me!” And I knew I’d made the right choice.
This is a book for everyone, fans and non-fans of Johnny JR’s other output, people who are addicts, people who know and love addicts, people with depression, and people who know and love people with depression. He’s an inspiration and I’m very glad he’s still alive.
Also I read this on many trains without the dust jacket on and I fear people thought I was trying to hide that I was reading smut and not a memoir about alcoholism.