Let's be real: most people dive into The Diary of Samuel Pepys thinking it’ll be a dry history lesson. Nope. Volume 73 (covering April and May 1669) is where the man really unspools. We’re nearing the end of his decade-long diary, and it’s intimate, weird, and shockingly relatable.

The Story

Samuel Pepys is wrapping up his legendary record-keeping, and the big drama isn’t politics or plagues—it’s his eyes. The guy is complaining almost daily about his aching, hurting eyeballs, even worried he’ll go totally blind. He tried just to walk in the dark (!) to preserve them, without, you know, knowing about lighting back then. He strolls around London gardens, goes to wrestling matches, and gets into playful scraps with his wife, Elizabeth (still super cool, bossy, his fun partner). He vents about everyone—from his lazy servants to his gouty colleagues—and totals his expenses (man-bought-a-map expensive!). There's even a lazy trip to Epsom Wells where he gets a headache but buys everyone snacks. It’s authentic daily ‘wait, how did they eat back then?’ stuff, presented with jokes and grumpy observations that could be from a Tumblr post.

Why You Should Read It

This is surprisingly emotional. You’re rooting for Pepys not just because he’s historical, but because he’s so nervous about his own eyesight, which feels so fragile. He starts writing ‘and so I cease my diary’, knowing this blurry vision might stop him for good. The gradual acceptance of physical decline is a real bummer but captured with ZERO drama. That whisper of honesty—of a cool, arrogant man realizing he must quit the thing he loves most (talking/recording everything)—really got me. Also, the mundane tension: Did he get the New Year’s hat? Did his friend sail away for a real job, still? It builds a total story-like pacing, even when Tuesday is just ‘ate well, read boring sermons, boss yelled at me.’ The history hits without you noticing because you care if Pepys got enough sleep.

Final Verdict

Perfect for people who wished history came with frantic whispers, inside jokes, and daily dough problems. If you enjoyed The 39 Steps, Robert Greene’s biography stuff, or the hard-knocks slice of writers like George Orwell, you’ll love seeing Pepys stop for tiny details—like the coffee house chat he had last Tuesday—while simultaneously glooming over losing his records. Also amazing for anyone wanting in-your-face proof of how people lived through daily hunger, class-inventory-groping, and (ugh) eye problems. Grab the Pepys diary if you want a diary entry you instantly own each page, full of regular human fear worn bravely. You’ll come away genuinely caring for a tired government guy from 1669, which isn’t something I thought could ever happen.