What Dreams May Come

What Readers Say

The thing that keeps coming up when readers talk about this book is the word beautiful — and not in a vague, cover-blurb way. Matheson built his afterlife from the inside out. Chris's heaven is constructed from the impressionist paintings his wife loved, and readers describe the color and light there as something you feel more than picture. The sensory detail is that specific. What surprises people is how well the metaphysics hold up — Matheson researched the book seriously, and the appendix citing his sources is worth reading on its own. It doesn't feel like a fantasy novel wearing a grief story as a costume; it feels like a genuine attempt to work through what might actually be on the other side.

The emotional core is the descent. When Annie dies by suicide and ends up somewhere much darker, Chris goes in after her. That's the premise, and readers consistently note that Matheson earns it. The love story doesn't feel like a narrative device — it feels like the whole point. The grief is real, and so is the hope.

The one repeated caveat: this is the book, not the movie. People who love the Robin Williams film tend to have soft memories of it, but those who've read the novel are firm that the two are very different experiences, and the book is the better one.

Who It's For

This is for readers who have lost someone and want a book that takes the question of what comes next seriously — not as escapism, but as genuine imaginative inquiry. It also lands well for readers who are drawn to altered-state or consciousness-bending fiction, the kind where the interior world becomes the landscape.

Reading Context

Matheson is best known for I Am Legend, and there's a tendency to expect something genre-adjacent and plot-driven from him. What Dreams May Come is quieter than that — closer to philosophical fiction than horror or thriller. It pairs naturally with books like The Five People You Meet in Heaven or A Grief Observed for the loss angle, and with Piranesi or Einstein's Dreams for the immersive, world-built-from-imagination quality.

The 1998 film adaptation with Robin Williams and Annabella Sciorra is visually spectacular and tonally sincere, but it diverges significantly from the novel's structure and ending. If you've only seen the movie, the book will feel both familiar and like something entirely new.