When God Was a Rabbit by Sarah Winman. The Book Review

I award an A+ for the title When God Was a Rabbit. I love it. It sounds playful, mysterious, and full of promise. I can still remember the curiosity it sparked in me when I first picked it up. What kind of book could possibly live up to such a peculiar title? I imagined whimsy, wonder, and maybe even a touch of absurdity. And at first, that’s exactly what I got, but I was soon let down.

This was completely my own fault as I had built some very high expectations for this book, doing exactly what I mustn't; judging a book by its cover.

The story follows Elly, a sharp and curious girl growing up in 1960s England, and her older brother Joe, who’s her constant ally and anchor. Their bond is the heart of this novel, carrying the reader through four decades of life’s highs and lows. From their childhood days when Elly names her pet rabbit “God” (because why not?) to their adult years filled with secrets, loss, and rediscovered connections, it’s a story about how we navigate the unpredictable nature of life.

I found the rabbit, “God,” mildly intriguing. Not because he’s a particularly notable character—he’s just a rabbit, after all—but because of what he symbolises. For Elly, “God” represents childhood innocence and the uncomplicated way children see the world. It’s that magical time when life feels boundless, when sweets cost a penny, and when naming your rabbit after the Almighty makes perfect sense. This sense of wonder is something we all lose as we grow up, isn’t it? Life has a way of forcing us to let go of the magic and make room for the mundane.

But life, as this book reminds us, is rarely straightforward. Elly’s idyllic childhood is disrupted by a series of events that are anything but whimsical. The story dives into heavy themes—terrorism, illness, grief, and even the deeply troubling behaviour of Mr Golan, the neighbour who befriends Elly in ways that feel wrong from the outset. It’s a stark reminder of how innocence can be shattered, and how those fractures can follow us into adulthood.

Reading about Elly’s silence regarding Mr. Golan’s actions was heartbreaking. She never tells her parents, not out of malice but because she doesn’t fully understand what’s happening. It’s a silence born of confusion and fear, and it’s one she carries with her into adulthood. This aspect of the story left me thinking about the things we don’t say—the secrets we keep buried, the traumas we carry quietly. They shape us, often in ways we don’t realise until much later.

And yet, despite the weight of these themes, the book isn’t unrelentingly dark. Sarah Winman weaves moments of humour and absurdity throughout, creating a balance that feels true to life. One moment, you’re grappling with heartbreak; the next, you’re laughing at something delightfully odd. This interplay of light and dark reminded me of conversations I’ve had with my family—ones where we’ve jumped from reminiscing about a funny childhood memory to discussing something deeply personal, all within the same breath.

But not everything about the book worked for me. While I appreciated Winman’s poetic prose and ambitious storytelling, there were moments where the narrative felt overstuffed. The novel tries to pack in so much—spanning decades and touching on numerous historical and personal events—that some parts felt rushed or underdeveloped. And the vagueness? Let’s just say there were times I had to reread entire sections because I wasn’t sure who was speaking or what was happening.

Still, there’s something undeniably captivating about When God Was a Rabbit. It’s messy and flawed, but isn’t that exactly what life is? Elly and Joe’s journey is filled with unspoken traumas, unresolved questions, and moments of pure joy—all of which feel deeply human.

And then there’s the title, which lingers in your mind long after you’ve finished reading. What does it mean? For me, it’s a reminder that even in the most ordinary or seemingly absurd things—a rabbit, a childhood memory, a sibling’s love—there’s a touch of the divine.

If you’ve read this book, I’d love to hear your thoughts. Did it charm you, frustrate you, or leave you somewhere in between? And if you’re still deciding whether to pick it up, I say go for it. Whether you love it or not, it’s the kind of story that stays with you, sparking conversations and reflections long after the final page.

Speaking of conversations, if you enjoy diving deep into the world of books, follow me on Read Read Rant. This is where I pour my thoughts, both the glowing and the grumbling, about everything I read. Let’s chat, debate, and celebrate the wonderful (and sometimes maddening) world of stories together. Got a book recommendation? I’m all ears!