I have a morbid fascination with books that are about the extremes of survival. My favourite book so far for 2011 has been 'The Road' by Cormac McCarthy. It was made into a movie that, having now read the book, I have zero desire to see. The book was stressful enough.
However the beauty of the book lies in it's ability to make small joys seem hugely significant in the midst of such destruction and devastation and hopelessness. Not everything is spelt out to you from the beginning - you have to work through the story to discover what the backstory is - and even then you are left wondering.
Not sure exactly what this says about me (and it's not new - I'm also fascinated by those who are kidnapped and held as hostages for years on end). Maybe it's partly me wondering how I'd cope faced by such extremes - I know that a stressful day with the kids pushes me to the limits of coping so I don't think I'd be so great left on the side of Everest on my own!