Book Review: Inciting Joy

I stumbled upon this book in the audio selections at my library (on the display shelves, especially given the author's Indiana connections as a writing professor at Indiana University). Although I cannot grasp what it is to be a black man, and although I do not share many of this author's perspectives on life and politics, I fell in love with the poetic writing in these essays on joy. The subject is dear to my heart. I agree with much of what this author shares, especially the idea that pain and suffering are portals, necessary pathways, to joy.

In these lyrical, elegant essays, written in a conversational style, Ross Gay covers fourteen things that incite joy. While some are easily understood (laughter, gardens, school, dancing, music, and gratitude), others fall outside of my experience (basketball, skateboarding), and many are surprising (death, time, losing your phone, and falling apart). In each essay, I found things with which I heartily agree. In many essays, though, my perspectives differed.

The first incitement offered a beautiful glimpse of individuals sharing their sorrows, and the joy such sharing brings. In a touching essay on the death of his father, the author moves the reader to tears as he outlines the friction and the love coexisting. The potential within relationships. His last words are beautiful: "It was through my tears, I saw my father was a garden. Or the two of us, or the all-of-us, not here long maybe it is. And from that what might grow." Next, he covers the generosity of gardening. He suggests that instead of cursing darkness, we might plant some seeds and share what grows. He discusses poetry, and what poetry can produce within us.

So much of this writing is beautiful and thought-provoking and brilliant. I love a well-turned word and a meticulously crafted metaphor. I love his deep understanding of, and desire for, fairness and compassion. Listening to his writing style - the repetitions, the pet phrases ("in which I mean," "which, I've said this before," and "or to come back to where we started..."), and the poetic expression of deep and important thoughts - makes the audio version the best way to experience this book. However, having said that, the use of expletives (why? unnecessary and interruptive) also made this version one I could only tolerate in my car (away from my husband walking into the room, hearing the profanity, and saying, "What ARE you listening to?").

The longer I listened, the less I felt those common bonds. Instead, it seemed the author was pointing a finger at me and accusing me of being the source of so many problems. My capitalism, my encouragement of excellence and competition, my desire to nurture the good and the upright, in his eyes, my white skin, lead to injustice and suppression. Indeed, he views cheating as "sharing ideas," and something to applaud (isn't this an injustice to the individual who studied to achieve his grade). He throws out grades because they stifle creativity. 

It felt as if he sees me, without cause, as an oppressor and a purveyor of injustice upon injustice. In that, our common goal of fairness and compassion, of living together in peace and making one another better than we were before we entered relationship, fizzled and dissolved. So, on the one hand, I loved this "wondering-aloud," this "finding in the minutiae of life the grand themes of human existence," and on the other hand, I shook my head, because you cannot attempt to repair the broken by breaking further. You cannot heal division by inciting more division. You cannot blindly overlook while saying, "everyone needs to be seen."

Content Caution: 📒 - language