The Book of Delights is a collection of essays by poet Ross Gay that takes the reader, day by day, through a year of delight-oriented observations. On his forty-second birthday, Gay has an epiphany: wouldn’t it be wonderful to spend a little time each day thinking and writing about delight? And thus, a project is born. He decides to write one essay every day for a year about something delightful; the only rules are that he must write the essays quickly and he must draft them by hand (to encourage free-form thinking and, because, what a delight to put actual pen to paper). Usually no longer than a few pages, Gay’s essayettes are a joyous combination of poetry, humor, and insight. In one, he notices a mother and child carrying a laundry bag between them, each holding onto one handle. In another, he carries a tomato seedling through the airport and describes the way everyone—from the check-in person to the flight attendant—pitches in to get his precious cargo home safely. Gay is quick to point out that delight can coexist with pain and sadness, and many of his essays touch on the complexities he lives through as a Black man in America, as a friend who experiences loss, as an adult working through past trauma. This book is all about seeking out those passing moments of light and levity, even within darkness, and to witness those moments with him feels a little like a miracle.
Reading The Book of Delights is like putting on a pair of rose-colored glasses; suddenly, I started to notice delightful things all around me, as if Gay’s observations were priming me to better see my own environment. I was in a good mood the entire time I was reading this collection, and if that’s not a sign to slow down and savor the little things then I don’t know what is. Gay’s writing is funny and lyrical—some essays read like a letter to a friend, and some read like slam poetry—and I was continuously blown away by his command of language (yet, so importantly, he never comes off as pretentious or preachy). His personality jumps off the page in a really beautiful way, and his kindness and vibrancy are tangible from the start. Based on the title, I was a little worried that the book would veer into self-help territory, but it never does. The essays are simply little snippets of exquisite writing, all rooted in delight. I absolutely loved this book.
I’d recommend this book to…
- Anyone who loves thinking about gratitude and connection… it’s similar in theme to Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life by Amy Krouse Rosenthal
- Anyone looking for something intimate and hopeful… it’s similar in tone to Intimations by Zadie Smith
- Anyone interested in powerful, current poetic writing… it’s similar in style to What Kind of Woman by Kate Baer