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abhireadingnotes's review against another edition
2.0
You develop a new skill set after a reading this book. You will consciously try to seek out wonder around you in any way possible. Gay’s fluid prose paints beautiful pictures of the things that bring him joy in a daily basis. He is very good at describing the tiny nuances of things we take for granted like a daily walk or a cup of coffee. You must read this book if you want to hear a poet describe the extraordinary beauty of the mundane around us.
spenkevich's review against another edition
4.0
This book is, in fact, a sheer delight. Ross Gay’s The Book of Delights is one of the rare times a marketing caption promising something like pure joy actually lived up to the product and while I have spent multiple years reading through this, each time I return it is a burst of bliss direct into my heart. Not that everything in this book is joyous and there are some very direct looks at issues that cause harm; such as racism, toxic masculinity, poverty, bigotry and more., However there is always joy in the way Gay seems to effortlessly elucidate ideas, poetically constructing sentences that make it feel as if a metamorphosis has given each word a set of beautiful wings to flutter into skies of our souls. Having read his poetry as well, Ross Gay is always a balm for a weary heart. But also the prevailing messages is to stop and observe the world, take in delight and remind ourselves to hone in on it and, in turn, delight will find us.
Yesterday the library, staff and patrons, all came together in a collective joy over a small bunny that had run into the library and hid under our reference desk. The bunny, just a baby really, was easily recovered and released to the wild, but watching the way the joy around it spread from person to person was—as Gay says—a delight. I was reminded of his essay Found Things where watching the birds outside the Detroit airport becomes a bonding of joy for strangers. And thats a big part of this book, that we should unite in our joy. But also our sorrows. Without sadness, how can we know joy? ‘One’s comfort is often dependent, the way we set it up anyway, on one’s agony,’ Ross writes. This book is hyper aware that we all seem always on the edge of sorrow and suffering, and when we remember that perhaps we can all be better to each other.
If we unite in sorrow, we can unite ourselves into joy he teaches, and we will find it more often.
Such was the idea behind this book, something he set out with the goal of writing ‘ a delight every day for a year…Spend time thinking and writing about delight every day.’ What he found is that he noticed the things he spent so much time thinking about every day and how that awareness helps. And not that every thought was delight, but that amidst all the sorrows or struggles of the every day, we should invite delight to join us as if for coffee and make sure to spend time in it.
In a similar way, he tells us of advice he once heard that ‘the more stuff you love the happier you will be.’ I think we should all embrace this. While we go through our days ‘hovering in the luminal space between sensitivity and paranoia’ fighting the good fight of life, look for the joy, embrace the delight.
4.5/5
‘Because in trying to articulate what, perhaps, joy is, it has occurred to me that among other things—the trees and the mushrooms have shown me this—joy is the mostly invisible, the underground union between us, you and me, which is, among other things, the great fact of our life and the lives of everyone and thing we love going away. If we sink a spoon into that fact, into the duff between us, we will find it teeming. It will look like all the books ever written. It will look like all the nerves in a body. We might call it sorrow, but we might call it a union, one that, once we notice it, once we bring it into the light, might become flower and food. Might be joy.’
Yesterday the library, staff and patrons, all came together in a collective joy over a small bunny that had run into the library and hid under our reference desk. The bunny, just a baby really, was easily recovered and released to the wild, but watching the way the joy around it spread from person to person was—as Gay says—a delight. I was reminded of his essay Found Things where watching the birds outside the Detroit airport becomes a bonding of joy for strangers. And thats a big part of this book, that we should unite in our joy. But also our sorrows. Without sadness, how can we know joy? ‘One’s comfort is often dependent, the way we set it up anyway, on one’s agony,’ Ross writes. This book is hyper aware that we all seem always on the edge of sorrow and suffering, and when we remember that perhaps we can all be better to each other.
‘It astonishes me sometimes—no, often—how every person I get to know—everyone, regardless of everything, by which I mean everything—lives with some profound personal sorrow…
Is sorrow the true wild?
And if it is—and if we join them—your wild to mine—what’s that?
For joining, too, is a kind of annihilation.
What if we joined our sorrows, I’m saying.
I’m saying: What if that is joy?’
If we unite in sorrow, we can unite ourselves into joy he teaches, and we will find it more often.
Such was the idea behind this book, something he set out with the goal of writing ‘ a delight every day for a year…Spend time thinking and writing about delight every day.’ What he found is that he noticed the things he spent so much time thinking about every day and how that awareness helps. And not that every thought was delight, but that amidst all the sorrows or struggles of the every day, we should invite delight to join us as if for coffee and make sure to spend time in it.
‘It didn’t take me long to learn that the discipline or practice of writing these essays occasioned a kind of delight radar. Or maybe it was more like the development of a delight muscle. Something that implies that the more you study delight, the more delight there is to study.’
In a similar way, he tells us of advice he once heard that ‘the more stuff you love the happier you will be.’ I think we should all embrace this. While we go through our days ‘hovering in the luminal space between sensitivity and paranoia’ fighting the good fight of life, look for the joy, embrace the delight.
4.5/5
‘Because in trying to articulate what, perhaps, joy is, it has occurred to me that among other things—the trees and the mushrooms have shown me this—joy is the mostly invisible, the underground union between us, you and me, which is, among other things, the great fact of our life and the lives of everyone and thing we love going away. If we sink a spoon into that fact, into the duff between us, we will find it teeming. It will look like all the books ever written. It will look like all the nerves in a body. We might call it sorrow, but we might call it a union, one that, once we notice it, once we bring it into the light, might become flower and food. Might be joy.’
susannah1215's review against another edition
emotional
funny
hopeful
inspiring
lighthearted
reflective
relaxing
medium-paced
4.5
crey18's review against another edition
emotional
funny
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
4.75
You can choose to move through these delights quickly, or like I did, spend several months picking the essays up - here and there - whenever the mood struck me.
midtownmoodreader's review against another edition
5.0
One of the bonus delights of reading this book is that it made me more attuned to the small joys of my own life: the tomatoes growing in the garden, the cardinals playing outside my window, the birds building a nest in a tree, people wearing yellow.
There was something peaceful about reading this book on the porch, pausing between essays to observe the world around me. And there were so many gems in this book. I feel like writing this book was an act of hope; it reminded me that humans are fundamentally good, and that there is so much to love about the world.
There was something peaceful about reading this book on the porch, pausing between essays to observe the world around me. And there were so many gems in this book. I feel like writing this book was an act of hope; it reminded me that humans are fundamentally good, and that there is so much to love about the world.