Lynne Ramsay’s film offers an extraordinary adaptation of a harrowing tale of a life unraveling.
Philip Larkin, reviewing Sylvia Plath’s Collected Poems, noted that her final works were both original and powerful, though he cautioned:
“How valuable they are depends on how highly we rank the expression of experience with which we can in no sense identify, and from which we can only turn with shock and sorrow.”
Ariana Harwicz’s acclaimed debut novel, Die, My Love (2012), written by an Argentine author living in France, fits this description perfectly. The unnamed narrator, who embodies all the voices in the novel, reveals her intense rage, contempt, and frustrated longing.
“I hope you all die, every last one of you… Just die, my love.”
The story moves beyond a diagnosis of postpartum psychosis to portray a raw and extreme emotional landscape.
Unlike many contemporary works exploring the alienation or difficulties of motherhood—such as the more whimsical Nightbitch—Die, My Love stands out for its uncompromising intensity.
“A breath of irrationality had set fire to my existence,”
This novel—and now Ramsay’s film—highlight a fierce, unsettling reckoning with motherhood and identity.
This film adaptation boldly portrays the painful extremes of motherhood and identity through a fiercely emotional and unsettling narrative.