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Nostalgia Has Ruined My Life
"From the discomfort of my own home I buy dresses, look up recipes, do online surveys."
In Nostalgia Has Ruined My Life, an unnamed young woman in her late twenties navigates unemployment, boredom, chronic illness and online dating. Her activities are banal — applying for jobs, looking up horoscopes, managing depression, going on Tinder dates.
'I want to tell someone I love them but there is no one to tell,' she says. 'Except my sister maybe. I want to pick blackberries on a farm and then die.' She observes the ambiguities of social interactions, the absurd intimacies of sex and the indignity of everyday events, with a skepticism about the possibility of genuine emotion, or enlightenment. Like life, things are just unfolding, and sometimes, like life, they don't actually get better. Zarah Butcher-McGunnigle's novella-in-fragments blends artifice with sincerity, is darkly funny, and alive to the incongruous performance that constitutes getting by.
In Nostalgia Has Ruined My Life, an unnamed young woman in her late twenties navigates unemployment, boredom, chronic illness and online dating. Her activities are banal — applying for jobs, looking up horoscopes, managing depression, going on Tinder dates.
'I want to tell someone I love them but there is no one to tell,' she says. 'Except my sister maybe. I want to pick blackberries on a farm and then die.' She observes the ambiguities of social interactions, the absurd intimacies of sex and the indignity of everyday events, with a skepticism about the possibility of genuine emotion, or enlightenment. Like life, things are just unfolding, and sometimes, like life, they don't actually get better. Zarah Butcher-McGunnigle's novella-in-fragments blends artifice with sincerity, is darkly funny, and alive to the incongruous performance that constitutes getting by.
68 pages, Paperback
Published August 1, 2021
5 people are currently reading
2764 people want to read
About the author
Zarah Butcher-McGunnigle
4 books60 followersZarah Butcher-McGunnigle (b.1990) is the author of AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A MARGUERITE (Hue & Cry Press, 2014) and NOSTALGIA HAS RUINED MY LIFE (Giramondo Publishing, 2021). Her work has appeared in publications such as Best NZ Poems, Landfall, and Muumuu House. She currently lives in Melbourne, Australia.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 139 reviews
August 14, 2021
Deceptively simple; Butcher-McGunnigle’s prose gets its literary power, not from embedding simile and metaphor into verbose descriptive sentences, but by putting just the right clipped sentences next to each other; the castration fantasy of, ‘The pain in my jaw makes it difficult for me to bite into apples and to give blowjobs for too long. I have to cut an apple into very small pieces.’
Unapologetically morose, but also funny.
Finds its originality in being painfully honest.
Full of self-deprecation, yet all other characters come off worse. A pantheon of douchey guys give the author advice. In fact, it’s a world of advice that can just fuck off. Society is just an insecure bully. The book is marked ‘fiction’, I don’t believe that for a second.
Zine writing, book form
Unapologetically morose, but also funny.
Finds its originality in being painfully honest.
Full of self-deprecation, yet all other characters come off worse. A pantheon of douchey guys give the author advice. In fact, it’s a world of advice that can just fuck off. Society is just an insecure bully. The book is marked ‘fiction’, I don’t believe that for a second.
Zine writing, book form
October 16, 2021
Laughed a few times. Mostly laughed at how relatable the most absurd sentences were. What more could you want.
Read
November 27, 2023“So, do you have any hobbies?’ Well, I don’t make art anymore, I just have disappointing relationships. All of my emails sound like I wrote them with a knife held at my throat.”
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A short book that perfectly describes the life of a modern woman sailing through life without much thought or purpose. What sets this book apart is how it’s written like a diary entry.
The book may appear bleak, but it got me chuckling a couple of times because of its sadistic humour that only women can understand. It felt like it was not meant to be read by anyone because of its authenticity and truth.
The book shows that most of us are just living the same lives & crave human connection. We’re simple creatures, with complex emotions.
-
A short book that perfectly describes the life of a modern woman sailing through life without much thought or purpose. What sets this book apart is how it’s written like a diary entry.
The book may appear bleak, but it got me chuckling a couple of times because of its sadistic humour that only women can understand. It felt like it was not meant to be read by anyone because of its authenticity and truth.
The book shows that most of us are just living the same lives & crave human connection. We’re simple creatures, with complex emotions.
August 25, 2021
What a deliciously weird and wonderful little novella. Imbued with ennui and melancholia throughout, I savoured the tone in every vignette. The unnamed narrator is detached and deadpan funny and her chronic illnesses, unemployment, tragic dating life and depression are explored in ways both funny and sincere – a fine balancing act Butcher-McGunnigle completely nails. This had just the right amount of sincerity and pathos for my taste. Loved!
August 25, 2021
Definitely my favourite writer.
October 24, 2022
Moshfegh coded
February 19, 2022
I read this after reading a book that was so empowering that I just don't think I could give this more than 3 stars. The writing was good, some parts better than others. There was definitely a gut-punch feeling to some of the experiences of the main character but on the other hand, she was so useless, so passive in her own life and that was never resolved. I did not particularly like the ongoing theme of casual sex as a way to demonstrate how weak and unambitious she was. The idea that all she had left was the ability to have sex with men. What was interesting was the representation of chronic illness and the incessant need for people to give unrequited advice that is never helpful.
Overall, a good and quick read!
Overall, a good and quick read!
August 17, 2021
“My mother already owned a house by the time she was my age. My father had 3 degrees and had been married twice. I feel productive changing a photo on my dating profile. I want kids. I’m too bloated to have sex though. I want my life to begin.
Really, I just want to be in a ball pit in a McDonald’s playground.”
Really, I just want to be in a ball pit in a McDonald’s playground.”
July 17, 2021
you guys, this is the best
<3
do yourself a favour!! read it
<3
do yourself a favour!! read it
November 7, 2021
I adored this. Too short!!
Read
October 23, 2022alt-lit adjacent
August 7, 2022
Woof. Categorise this one under "All the Hipsters I Knew in College; Dying is COOL."
First off, I was sick and tired of #SadGirlFiction pretty much as soon as the genre started. All of these authors think that they're emulating Sylvia Plath, but their pale imitations render them both pitiful and somewhat repulsive.
I couldn't stand the narrator - or, by extension, the author - in NOSTALGIA. Look, depression is debilitating and I'm familiar with the symptoms, but the most deplorable aspect of this genre of shoe gaze fiction is that it somehow tries to make these limpid ne'er-do-wells into aspirational waifs. STOP MAKING DEPRESSION POETIC AND CUTE. IT'S NOT.
Here are some choice quotes from this obnoxious pamphlet (at 63 pages, it's hardly a novel):
"'I can't believe I didn't win the contest I didn't enter," I say, holding up a tissue full of chewed-up meat. I tried to reply to an email. I wrote 'hi thanks for your email' and then I had to lie down for two hours."
"No one's giving me any attention so I make an apple pie at midnight. I spray multi-purpose cleaner on the pie and it shines and then it get soggy. Last week I had sex with an orphan."
"This turtleneck is choking me a little but it's the most excitement I've had for months so I should be grateful. I press a dirty tissue into a decorative seashell. I check to see if I'm still ugly."
First off, I was sick and tired of #SadGirlFiction pretty much as soon as the genre started. All of these authors think that they're emulating Sylvia Plath, but their pale imitations render them both pitiful and somewhat repulsive.
I couldn't stand the narrator - or, by extension, the author - in NOSTALGIA. Look, depression is debilitating and I'm familiar with the symptoms, but the most deplorable aspect of this genre of shoe gaze fiction is that it somehow tries to make these limpid ne'er-do-wells into aspirational waifs. STOP MAKING DEPRESSION POETIC AND CUTE. IT'S NOT.
Here are some choice quotes from this obnoxious pamphlet (at 63 pages, it's hardly a novel):
"'I can't believe I didn't win the contest I didn't enter," I say, holding up a tissue full of chewed-up meat. I tried to reply to an email. I wrote 'hi thanks for your email' and then I had to lie down for two hours."
"No one's giving me any attention so I make an apple pie at midnight. I spray multi-purpose cleaner on the pie and it shines and then it get soggy. Last week I had sex with an orphan."
"This turtleneck is choking me a little but it's the most excitement I've had for months so I should be grateful. I press a dirty tissue into a decorative seashell. I check to see if I'm still ugly."
May 22, 2024
12.2.22
“This is a very good writing I'm glad that a New Zealand person has written this in my own country of [Aotearoa].”—me to Siri, before falling asleep, to create this note, something I do often.
Never thought I’d be writing such a base line in a book review, but this is endlessly readable. I’m on page 13 so far. But I could read this several times easily.
Would like to put it on the shelf next to ‘Hunger,’ and ‘Martin Eden.’
Some excellent and original Tinder representation, and obviously the sickliness of narrator is wonderful.
I think it’s dragging a bit around page 49 but it could be my mood.
I do wish there was a clean and satisfying ending, like a death of the narrator. But otherwise it’s pretty good. Seeing as it warrants picking up and flicking to any odd page I would certainly curate the first three quarters of the book as essential NZ reading.
7.3.24
I don't know if I ever questioned why this little book has stuck with me after only reading it once. I never questioned that it wasn't just relatable but was the life I am living, still. 'Nostalgia Has Ruined My Life' even the title seems to mean more than it did two years ago. I guess I didn't feel guilty about looking back at that point. The past week I have been reflecting on much of my life. I have gained a revelatory perspective on my own psychology. I didn't know I was very different. I thought there were extroverts and introverts and that's about it. Well if one were an introvert with crippling depression where would that put one? That isn't me I'm just giving an example. Introvert/extrovert is only a baseline for one's social psychology.
I will reread this book.
I've been turning my second screenplay into a novella recently and it pressed on me that the whole book is about grappling with obsessions. I always looked at the character who wishes he was the narrator's love interest as the obsessive. But the one who spends days eating nothing in her art studio does so out of obsession, and nostalgia.
21.5.24
I reread it. Recently I've been made to think a lot about the condition of neuroses by watching a two-hour-twenty-minute movie on Freud that probably uses "neurotic"-adjacent words more than any other fictive film. And that was in the morning, in the evening I saw 'An Angel At My Table' which is a series of excellent constructions of the crushing realities of a human dealing with a nervous disposition. And eating dinner today I watched five minutes of John Huston's neurotic-U.S.-soldier documentary before I had to turn it off because it was too much, it was too real and evocative of serious tragic events because of the added element of war, and they were overwhelmingly crippled by the things they experienced. I can hide the crippling effects of my neuroses, I'm only crippled in that I can't stop moving which may just be the autism. The book I'm writing at the moment is from the perspective of a neurotic individual. It's been a great experience writing it. It's much longer than 'Nostalgia Has Ruined My Life' (aiming for an efficient 40k words). Zarah's book may be more comforting in that it is shorter and doesn't dig too deep into feelings, it simply shows the debilitating effects of the narrator's capacity to function as an able-bodied person would. I related to the issues more than the first time I read the book unfortunately, but I may or may not be better off because I'm more self-aware/aware of my issues! I want to quote Zarah's book at the start of mine but didn't notice one line that stood out unless I shortened it to "your illness is forever," or "He smiled and touched my thigh" etc. I am often baffled by the unknowable specificity of an author's quote choice and I didn't realise it is ultimately about the importance of the reference to another's work, rather than the sentiment the quote captures (which is also important). My manuscript won't get away from referencing many works of art but Zarah's book would be too logistically hard to squeeze into the narrative.
This book doesn't drag and the ending is satisfyingly abrupt.
Tells me that as long as something substantial, something with effect on a person narrator or NPC (narrator’s actions and condition is always at NPC’s expense) the book will be good (a lot of internal stuff happens which must be made substantial and not frivolous in my book!)
“This is a very good writing I'm glad that a New Zealand person has written this in my own country of [Aotearoa].”—me to Siri, before falling asleep, to create this note, something I do often.
Never thought I’d be writing such a base line in a book review, but this is endlessly readable. I’m on page 13 so far. But I could read this several times easily.
Would like to put it on the shelf next to ‘Hunger,’ and ‘Martin Eden.’
Some excellent and original Tinder representation, and obviously the sickliness of narrator is wonderful.
I think it’s dragging a bit around page 49 but it could be my mood.
I do wish there was a clean and satisfying ending, like a death of the narrator. But otherwise it’s pretty good. Seeing as it warrants picking up and flicking to any odd page I would certainly curate the first three quarters of the book as essential NZ reading.
7.3.24
I don't know if I ever questioned why this little book has stuck with me after only reading it once. I never questioned that it wasn't just relatable but was the life I am living, still. 'Nostalgia Has Ruined My Life' even the title seems to mean more than it did two years ago. I guess I didn't feel guilty about looking back at that point. The past week I have been reflecting on much of my life. I have gained a revelatory perspective on my own psychology. I didn't know I was very different. I thought there were extroverts and introverts and that's about it. Well if one were an introvert with crippling depression where would that put one? That isn't me I'm just giving an example. Introvert/extrovert is only a baseline for one's social psychology.
I will reread this book.
I've been turning my second screenplay into a novella recently and it pressed on me that the whole book is about grappling with obsessions. I always looked at the character who wishes he was the narrator's love interest as the obsessive. But the one who spends days eating nothing in her art studio does so out of obsession, and nostalgia.
21.5.24
I reread it. Recently I've been made to think a lot about the condition of neuroses by watching a two-hour-twenty-minute movie on Freud that probably uses "neurotic"-adjacent words more than any other fictive film. And that was in the morning, in the evening I saw 'An Angel At My Table' which is a series of excellent constructions of the crushing realities of a human dealing with a nervous disposition. And eating dinner today I watched five minutes of John Huston's neurotic-U.S.-soldier documentary before I had to turn it off because it was too much, it was too real and evocative of serious tragic events because of the added element of war, and they were overwhelmingly crippled by the things they experienced. I can hide the crippling effects of my neuroses, I'm only crippled in that I can't stop moving which may just be the autism. The book I'm writing at the moment is from the perspective of a neurotic individual. It's been a great experience writing it. It's much longer than 'Nostalgia Has Ruined My Life' (aiming for an efficient 40k words). Zarah's book may be more comforting in that it is shorter and doesn't dig too deep into feelings, it simply shows the debilitating effects of the narrator's capacity to function as an able-bodied person would. I related to the issues more than the first time I read the book unfortunately, but I may or may not be better off because I'm more self-aware/aware of my issues! I want to quote Zarah's book at the start of mine but didn't notice one line that stood out unless I shortened it to "your illness is forever," or "He smiled and touched my thigh" etc. I am often baffled by the unknowable specificity of an author's quote choice and I didn't realise it is ultimately about the importance of the reference to another's work, rather than the sentiment the quote captures (which is also important). My manuscript won't get away from referencing many works of art but Zarah's book would be too logistically hard to squeeze into the narrative.
This book doesn't drag and the ending is satisfyingly abrupt.
Tells me that as long as something substantial, something with effect on a person narrator or NPC (narrator’s actions and condition is always at NPC’s expense) the book will be good (a lot of internal stuff happens which must be made substantial and not frivolous in my book!)
November 8, 2021
A 20 something year old muses on the state of her world; her bleak hireability, even bleaker dating life and the struggle that is currently existing.
I adored the way this author employs specifics to capture the whole, ebbing and flowing through the mundane imbuing observances with wit and insight. The detached staccato of each musing creates a feeling of camaraderie between reader and narrator, as if we are together observing the in-joke of her life. It was hilarious how many passages almost exactly resemble (usually drunken) conversations between friends and I, this passage in particular made me laugh out loud with recognition;
'I want to date someone who has been bullied so their self-esteem is a bit low and therefore they won't leave me because they don't think they can do better than me, but not so low that they're self-destructive and self-loathing and unable to accept someone liking or loving them'
I was at first put off by the undeniable self-indulgence however upon further thought I am quite fond of it. I have come to admire authors who do not shroud their impressions in heroics and villainy, fiction is full of men writing bizarrely transcribed versions of self in the form of hero and I much prefer the imperfect greyness of autofiction, especially the highly relatable self-aware self-consciousness I find common in non-male authors.
I definitely do not think this strange little novella will appeal as much to older generations, the almost performative tone and humour is clearly influenced by social media and those not well versed with this style may find it difficult to interpret. I did find myself rolling my eyes a little at the mentions of hating people and having no friends, these moments bordered on buzzfeed-I hate mondays-adulting-core but weren’t common enough to spoil the entire book.
I was surprisingly affected by the final page and am very excited to read more from this author.
Definitely not for everyone, nonetheless for me :--)
I adored the way this author employs specifics to capture the whole, ebbing and flowing through the mundane imbuing observances with wit and insight. The detached staccato of each musing creates a feeling of camaraderie between reader and narrator, as if we are together observing the in-joke of her life. It was hilarious how many passages almost exactly resemble (usually drunken) conversations between friends and I, this passage in particular made me laugh out loud with recognition;
'I want to date someone who has been bullied so their self-esteem is a bit low and therefore they won't leave me because they don't think they can do better than me, but not so low that they're self-destructive and self-loathing and unable to accept someone liking or loving them'
I was at first put off by the undeniable self-indulgence however upon further thought I am quite fond of it. I have come to admire authors who do not shroud their impressions in heroics and villainy, fiction is full of men writing bizarrely transcribed versions of self in the form of hero and I much prefer the imperfect greyness of autofiction, especially the highly relatable self-aware self-consciousness I find common in non-male authors.
I definitely do not think this strange little novella will appeal as much to older generations, the almost performative tone and humour is clearly influenced by social media and those not well versed with this style may find it difficult to interpret. I did find myself rolling my eyes a little at the mentions of hating people and having no friends, these moments bordered on buzzfeed-I hate mondays-adulting-core but weren’t common enough to spoil the entire book.
I was surprisingly affected by the final page and am very excited to read more from this author.
Definitely not for everyone, nonetheless for me :--)
October 23, 2021
This was really good
January 23, 2025
Most of this book felt like a compilation of tweets from an insufferable person. Beautiful cover tho!
May 1, 2023
This was short, sardonic, and made me laugh out loud. I present to you some of my favorite sentences:
"I think my ex and I got on because we had both been bullied at high school but not so severely that we couldn't socialize now, but enough to make us humble and make our self-esteem a bit low."
"This turtleneck is choking me a little but it's the most excitement I've had for months so I should be grateful."
"My inflammatory illness makes me look old, but my furby backpack makes me look young."
"...I just want someone to love me so much that they write an entire book about me."
"I think my ex and I got on because we had both been bullied at high school but not so severely that we couldn't socialize now, but enough to make us humble and make our self-esteem a bit low."
"This turtleneck is choking me a little but it's the most excitement I've had for months so I should be grateful."
"My inflammatory illness makes me look old, but my furby backpack makes me look young."
"...I just want someone to love me so much that they write an entire book about me."
February 20, 2023
Both highly entertaining and deeply disturbing, this darkly comical novella read like a great satire. However, I could not connect with its main character. Three stars because I felt super conflicted indeed.
March 14, 2025
I couldn't really relate to this book because I have a job and I'm not depressed. It was still good though, although I think I got second hand depression. I think that's a thing, I read about it online once.
July 20, 2022
An ode to the experience of chronic illness and disability, the humor in this is dry, the writing is specific in a quirky and fun way, and it’s well worth the time.
“I can think of treatments that might help my health but to be able to work more to pay for them, I’d have to be healthier.”
“I can think of treatments that might help my health but to be able to work more to pay for them, I’d have to be healthier.”
March 8, 2024
im convinced i wrote this book. so fkn funny
December 21, 2024
Definitely some relatable content for women in this period of their lives but not super impactful/memorable for me.
September 1, 2021
What a gut punch of a book
April 20, 2022
Bestie got me saying “same” after every sentence. I suddenly feel less ashamed of how pathetic my brain can be.
"More than a job I just want someone to love me so much that they write an entire book about me. Or create a whole series of paintings about me." (from "Nostalgia Has Ruined My Life (English Edition)" by Zarah Butcher-McGunnigle)
"More than a job I just want someone to love me so much that they write an entire book about me. Or create a whole series of paintings about me." (from "Nostalgia Has Ruined My Life (English Edition)" by Zarah Butcher-McGunnigle)
September 6, 2021
Bad vibes make good book.
May 1, 2022
this novella wasn’t exactly what i thought it would be i enjoyed it nonetheless! it was dark comedy with good one liners and almost reminded me of my year of rest and relaxation (in the way where it follows a depressed woman but it’s funny). I liked that the pages weren’t whole but rather were written in small paragraphs, it felt like i was reading someone’s journal. Overall i’d def recommend.
January 21, 2022
I really enjoyed this style! So unique and sadly funny. 😫
Read
October 28, 2025Made me lol
January 7, 2022
This was a really wonderful book, every page was super fun to read. I felt less alone after reading it, it kind of felt like watching a film.
November 2, 2024
I just want to clarifiy, when I looked at the description, the title and the cover of this book, I though it was gonna be promising, and had faith in it. unfortunaly, this was not it...
depression is in fact, empty, confusing, slow and repetivie, and I love books that portrait that said side of it, however, there is a difference with showing how bad depression is and turning your book with the same side efetcs that make depression already harder than it is. this book is vague and lazy at its finest, and thats because it lacks depth, which is the main key of writting a sucessful story about depression.
this literally feels like if rupi kaur grabbed my year of rest and relaxation and did it her way, and thats not a compliment, even tho I do like MYORAR its the rupi kaur part that I dislike. Short, vague, empty, effortless, there is nothing to actually read, nothing to comment, nothing to say about it... what ever happened to feelings? what about describing how awful it is? what about writting how awful you feel? there is not a single slight of connection in this book and thats what pisses me the most, I have seen 2016 tumblr posts with more depth and with better writting than this... what a shame, honestly
depression is in fact, empty, confusing, slow and repetivie, and I love books that portrait that said side of it, however, there is a difference with showing how bad depression is and turning your book with the same side efetcs that make depression already harder than it is. this book is vague and lazy at its finest, and thats because it lacks depth, which is the main key of writting a sucessful story about depression.
this literally feels like if rupi kaur grabbed my year of rest and relaxation and did it her way, and thats not a compliment, even tho I do like MYORAR its the rupi kaur part that I dislike. Short, vague, empty, effortless, there is nothing to actually read, nothing to comment, nothing to say about it... what ever happened to feelings? what about describing how awful it is? what about writting how awful you feel? there is not a single slight of connection in this book and thats what pisses me the most, I have seen 2016 tumblr posts with more depth and with better writting than this... what a shame, honestly
Displaying 1 - 30 of 139 reviews