The saddest books ever.

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I see Rocklobster already mentioned "Old Yeller."

Lots of sad animal stories......"Black Beauty" is another.

"The Call of the Wild," by Jack London, also comes to mind.

The one that rocked me the most recently was "Million Dollar Baby," but that was a cheap shot that relied on an impossible accident to make it work.

The Sorrows of Young Werther by Goethe.

"Redcap Runs Away" by Rhoda Power

"I Am David" Anne Holm

"The Shape of Three" Lilith Norman

"Heidi" Johanna Spyri

"A Dog So Small" Philippa Pearce

"A Sound of Chariots" Mollie Hunter

and I have cried reading other books. But these are the ones that I remember.

Where the Red Fern Grows is the first book that actually got me crying, multiple times.
I read it when it was assigned in 5th grade for a class report. I still have a special place in my heart for this book. I want to read it again, but am slightly afraid that it won't meet my memories of it.

Mende Nazar's Slave
The Cluckering Wagtails of Mikuyu Prison- Jack Mapanje
One Day in the Life of Ivan Densinovich- Alexander Soltszehitsyn


What do all these books show?

How people don't know how to treat one another.

A very gloomy book, but literarily suberb are Shalamov's Kolima Tales.

I forgot The Death of Ivan Illych by Leo Tolstoy. I started crying. Loudly. In school. When he only had that young servant to elevate his feet and keep him comfortable and yet, his soul ground into a fine powder by a life of self-enforced mediocrity, he cannot express the gratitude he surely feels.

Sweet kickboxin' Jesus that was sad.

Same here. Read it for school in 5th grade and it made me cry. That was the year I decided I liked sad books. Another sad one I read that year and loved was Marguerite Henry's Mustang, Wild Spirit of the West.

Since I spent so many years seeking out sad books, it's hard to say which are the saddest. Most depressing would be easier. I think the most depressing books I've read are The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck and The Red Pony by John Steinbeck.

Charlotte's Web. Poor Wilbur and poor Charlotte.

When I was ten, my dad gave me a copy of Jack London's The Call of the Wild. My dad has a terrible memory when it comes to his books: he usually only remembers the subject matter and if he liked it.

"Here, Elizabeth," he said. "You'll like this book. It has dogs in it."

The second chapter of the book has a graphic scene, where the friendly female husky Curly gets literally torn to pieces, screaming in agony, by a pack of wild dogs. I sobbed for two days straight.

When I was 13 the saddest story for me was Rowling's The Yearling. I remember where and when I read it and how I wept in torrents.

Maus, a graphic novel.

Of Mice And Men.

Mice really get to you, huh?

Yeah, I hated the ending of "Mice" myself. Also thought "Lottery Rose" was a sad book but at least the ending wasn't too shabby.

In my opinion, the ending of Of Mice and Men was deeply unpleasant, but giving what preceded it the plot couldn't have closed coherently through any other design. Lenny was doomed from page one.

In my other opinion, Art Speigelman wouldn't know literature or visual art if they bit him and stole his pants, but that's just my personal taste. The only emotions Maus roused in me were grief at seeing an interesting concept executed so horrendously and rage at the author for his stubborn childishness in the face of his mature father's pain.

The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien. All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque. The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood. Oh my god, and The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula Le Guin.