More, Now, Again: A Memoir of Addiction

Overview

Elizabeth Wurtzel's More, Now, Again: A Memoir of Addiction picks up after the fame of Prozac Nation and chronicles a descent into and struggle with substance dependence. The book is a candid first-person account of the cyclical nature of addiction: brief periods of sobriety punctuated by relapse, the erosion of relationships, and mounting professional and legal consequences. Wurtzel writes with bluntness about how mood disorders, self-medication, and the pressures of a public literary life intersected to deepen her reliance on drugs.
Rather than offering tidy redemption, the memoir maps the uneven work of trying to rebuild. Wurtzel traces attempts at treatment, the recurring pulls of craving and denial, and the slow, uncertain reconnection to family and career. The narrative feels immediate and confessional; pleasures and humiliations sit side by side as she confronts the tangible fallout of her choices and the interior experience of compulsion.

Content and Structure

The book moves episodically through episodes of use, attempts at recovery, and the fallout that follows each relapse. Scenes range from hospital visits and court dates to intimate, often painful depictions of failed relationships and professional setbacks. Medical treatment, therapy, and rehabilitation programs are described in practical, sometimes sardonic detail, showing the bureaucratic and emotional terrain of trying to get clean while under public scrutiny.
Wurtzel intersperses personal narrative with cultural and literary observations, using references and sharp prose to situate her struggle within a larger context of mental illness and celebrity. The chronology can feel jagged, reflecting the disorientation of addiction itself; flashbacks and reflections break forward momentum in ways that mimic the repetitive cycles she describes. Through this structure, the memoir resists mythic arcs of total ruin or miraculous salvation and instead emphasizes repetition, small recoveries, and continued vulnerability.

Themes and Tone

At the center of the memoir are questions about agency, identity, and responsibility. Wurtzel explores addiction not only as a series of bad choices but as a complex interplay of biological, psychological, and social forces. Shame and self-reproach thread through her writing, yet she also interrogates how stigma and public perception shape the experience of being an addict. The book asks how a person known for articulating depression becomes defined by a different kind of dependency, and what it takes to reclaim a life and a voice.
Wurtzel's prose is incisive, often caustic, oscillating between self-flagellation and wry insight. There is bleak humor alongside moments of startling vulnerability, and a persistent literary intelligence that frames even the most ordinary episodes. More, Now, Again refuses easy consolations; its honesty can be uncomfortable, but that bluntness is also the source of its power, making the memoir a forceful meditation on the endurance of addiction and the arduous work of recovery.

Impact and Reception

The memoir added complexity to Wurtzel's public persona after Prozac Nation, shifting attention from a discussion of depression to a broader conversation about addiction, gender, and the costs of fame. Critics and readers responded to the book's unvarnished approach, its stylistic precision, and its willingness to present relapse and recovery as ongoing rather than episodic triumphs. For many, the memoir offered a rare, sustained look at the messy realities of getting sober and the social forces that shape how addiction is perceived and treated.
More, Now, Again stands as a candid document of one person's struggle and as a contribution to cultural discussions about mental health and substance use. It does not offer simple answers, but it does insist on being heard, giving readers a forceful, unsettling, and ultimately humane account of life under the long shadow of addiction.