CWIB Book Review: “Bittersweet”
“The world is thy ship and not thy home” (St. Thérèse of Lisieux).
My favorite musical is “Les Miserables.” The name evokes misery, and many of the characters experience great sorrow. One of my favorite characters, Fantine, dies of tuberculosis after leaving her only child in the care of another family to try to earn enough money to care for her and being driven by circumstance into prostitution, the only accessible way she sees to support her daughter. The musical also involves war and ends (spoiler alert!) with the death of the main character.
So, why is it my favorite musical?
Susan Cain’s new book, “Bittersweet: How Sorrow and Longing Make Us Whole,” helps to explain why. “Les Miserables” is a beautiful musical that touches on experiences that all of us, even living in relative affluence in a relatively peaceful nation in the 21st century, can relate to. It portrays the great sorrows and joys of life, often at the same time, just as we often experience them. As Cain would say, it’s bittersweet.
Toxic Positivity
As someone who struggles with her mental health, I sometimes fall prey to the desire to be happy at all costs. When rereading the “Harry Potter” series, I stop reading books 5 and 6 before you-know-what happens. I listen to upbeat ‘60s music to cheer myself up. I dread rainy days.
But, even during a time of great loneliness in my 20s, I found comfort in singing along to sad Broadway songs in the car. And, now that my mental health is better, the sorrowful mysteries of the rosary are often my favorite to pray with. Some of my favorite pieces to play on the piano are in minor keys. I’m even learning to enjoy watching and listening to the rain with a cup of tea.
There is a time and a place for cheerfulness, and certainly, as Christians, we are told to rejoice. But, as Cain writes, modern culture, particularly in America, lives under a “tyranny of positivity,” and this tyranny has led to burnout and perfectionism. (That relentless positivity is also not the Christian understanding of joy.) As Cain’s friend Susan David, a psychologist and author, says, “Only dead people never get stressed, never get broken hearts, never experience the disappointment that comes with failure.”
To be alive is, often, to experience pain. And spending our lives trying desperately to avoid that pain will not help us live those lives fully.
Transformation and Transcendence
Cain offers insights into how we can transform our pain into creativity and love. In fact, she shares research suggesting that sadness can actually drive creativity and provides examples of artists (her favorite being Leonard Cohen) who have transformed their pain into beauty. The idea that suffering can be redemptive is not foreign to Christianity, of course; as Cain points out, “Jesus is the wounded healer who cures bleeding women, hugs lepers, and dies on a cross to save us all.” Perhaps the story of Jesus’ live on earth—ending not in his crucifixion but his subsequent resurrection—is the ultimate example of bittersweetness.
Cain also devotes an entire chapter to the workplace, which makes sense considering that for people who spend their entire career in full-time employment, work takes up about one-third of their waking hours. And the culture of corporate America has a huge impact on the broader American culture. This chapter is an important call for an infusion of vulnerability and humanity into that culture.
Our Restless Hearts
Cain describes herself as “deeply agnostic” and quite skeptical, and it may be hard for Catholics to understand how, after researching and writing this book, she could remain so. It is for me, anyway. She quotes from St. Augustine, who wrote in his “Confessions,” “Our hearts are restless until they rest in You” (though she leaves off the beginning of the sentence: “You have made us for yourself, O Lord”). She describes the very human yearning for something more, something perfect, but ultimately, her argument falls a bit flat, because she does not believe that it matters what that perfect thing is or whether it even exists.
“We think we long for eternal life,” Cain writes, “but maybe what we’re really longing for is perfect and unconditional love.” The Catholic Church’s answer to this speculation is that eternal life and perfect and unconditional love are one and the same. As the Catechism states, “Heaven is the ultimate end and fulfillment of the deepest human longings, the state of supreme, definitive happiness” (1024).
“Bittersweet” is a beautifully written look at the human heart and what it yearns for. While I believe it falls short in identifying the true source and aim of that yearning, it does provide some excellent examples of how it makes life meaningful and worth living.
Taryn Oesch DeLong is a Catholic wife and mother in North Carolina who encourages women to live out their feminine genius as co-president of Catholic Women in Business, a FEMM fertility awareness instructor, and a contributor to publications for Catholic women. She enjoys curling up with a cup of Earl Grey and a good novel, playing the piano, and taking walks in the sunshine with her family. Connect with her on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, and LinkedIn, or read her blog, Everyday Roses.