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The Beauty of Dusk
From New York Times columnist and bestselling author Frank Bruni comes a wise and moving memoir about aging, affliction, and optimism after partially losing his eyesight.
One morning in late 2017, New York Times columnist Frank Bruni woke up with strangely blurred vision. He wondered at first if some goo or gunk had worked its way into his right eye. But this was no fleeting annoyance, no fixable inconvenience. Overnight, a rare stroke had cut off blood to one of his optic nerves, rendering him functionally blind in that eye—forever. And he soon learned from doctors that the same disorder could ravage his left eye, too. He could lose his sight altogether.
In The Beauty of Dusk , Bruni hauntingly recounts his adjustment to this daunting reality, a medical and spiritual odyssey that involved not only reappraising his own priorities but also reaching out to, and gathering wisdom from, longtime friends and new acquaintances who had navigated their own traumas and afflictions.
The result is a poignant, probing, and ultimately uplifting examination of the limits that all of us inevitably encounter, the lenses through which we choose to evaluate them and the tools we have for perseverance. Bruni’s world blurred in one sense, as he experienced his first real inklings that the day isn’t forever and that light inexorably fades, but sharpened in another. Confronting unexpected hardship, he felt more blessed than ever before. There was vision lost. There was also vision found.
One morning in late 2017, New York Times columnist Frank Bruni woke up with strangely blurred vision. He wondered at first if some goo or gunk had worked its way into his right eye. But this was no fleeting annoyance, no fixable inconvenience. Overnight, a rare stroke had cut off blood to one of his optic nerves, rendering him functionally blind in that eye—forever. And he soon learned from doctors that the same disorder could ravage his left eye, too. He could lose his sight altogether.
In The Beauty of Dusk , Bruni hauntingly recounts his adjustment to this daunting reality, a medical and spiritual odyssey that involved not only reappraising his own priorities but also reaching out to, and gathering wisdom from, longtime friends and new acquaintances who had navigated their own traumas and afflictions.
The result is a poignant, probing, and ultimately uplifting examination of the limits that all of us inevitably encounter, the lenses through which we choose to evaluate them and the tools we have for perseverance. Bruni’s world blurred in one sense, as he experienced his first real inklings that the day isn’t forever and that light inexorably fades, but sharpened in another. Confronting unexpected hardship, he felt more blessed than ever before. There was vision lost. There was also vision found.
306 pages, Hardcover
First published March 1, 2022
785 people are currently reading
6807 people want to read
About the author
Frank Bruni
20 books256 followersFrank Bruni was named restaurant critic for The New York Times in April 2004.
Before that, Mr. Bruni had been the Rome bureau chief from July 2002 until March 2004, a post he took after working as a reporter in the Washington D.C. bureau from December 1998 until May 2002. While in Washington, he was among the journalists assigned to Capitol Hill and Congress until August 1999, when he was assigned full-time to cover the presidential campaign of Gov. George W. Bush. He then covered the White House for the first eight months of the Bush administration, and subsequently spent seven months as the Washington-based staff writer for The New York Times Sunday Magazine.
Mr. Bruni is the author of The New York Times bestseller about George W. Bush called Ambling into History (HarperCollins: hardcover, 2002; paperback, 2003). He is also the co-author of A Gospel of Shame: Children, Sexual Abuse and the Catholic Church.
Before that, Mr. Bruni had been the Rome bureau chief from July 2002 until March 2004, a post he took after working as a reporter in the Washington D.C. bureau from December 1998 until May 2002. While in Washington, he was among the journalists assigned to Capitol Hill and Congress until August 1999, when he was assigned full-time to cover the presidential campaign of Gov. George W. Bush. He then covered the White House for the first eight months of the Bush administration, and subsequently spent seven months as the Washington-based staff writer for The New York Times Sunday Magazine.
Mr. Bruni is the author of The New York Times bestseller about George W. Bush called Ambling into History (HarperCollins: hardcover, 2002; paperback, 2003). He is also the co-author of A Gospel of Shame: Children, Sexual Abuse and the Catholic Church.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 576 reviews
March 18, 2022
I finished this book last night while waiting with my husband in the emergency room. He had experienced crazy blood pressure spikes and drops, a racing heartbeat, and a general sense of lethargy all day. He's fine ( it was not a heart attack), we came home at 2 a.m., let the dog out and went to bed. Little things.
How appropriate to be reading a book about aging and loss and finding the beauty in all those things we've taken for granted while we concentrated on raising families and getting ahead. Aging begins at birth and so does loss. Bruni recalls a philosophy professor in college teaching that all of life is adjusting to loss. He was a successful columnist for the NYT when, at the age of 52 he had a stroke affecting the optic nerve in his right eye. It not only gave him limited vision on that side, but he faced the very real possibility that it could happen in the left eye as well, leaving him blind. He not only gives us his story, but delves into others who have experienced disability of one sort or another, and lived happy lives in spite of, or maybe because, it forced them to change direction.
A beautiful book that brims with joy, hope and possibility, written by a man who knows how to write about important things, like the love of a dog, good wine and food, friends and family, and taking each day as it comes. You know, the little things.
How appropriate to be reading a book about aging and loss and finding the beauty in all those things we've taken for granted while we concentrated on raising families and getting ahead. Aging begins at birth and so does loss. Bruni recalls a philosophy professor in college teaching that all of life is adjusting to loss. He was a successful columnist for the NYT when, at the age of 52 he had a stroke affecting the optic nerve in his right eye. It not only gave him limited vision on that side, but he faced the very real possibility that it could happen in the left eye as well, leaving him blind. He not only gives us his story, but delves into others who have experienced disability of one sort or another, and lived happy lives in spite of, or maybe because, it forced them to change direction.
A beautiful book that brims with joy, hope and possibility, written by a man who knows how to write about important things, like the love of a dog, good wine and food, friends and family, and taking each day as it comes. You know, the little things.
March 29, 2022
I usually am not attracted to memoirs, a genre that seems particularly popular lately. I wanted to read this because I have been reading Frank Bruni's editorials in the NYT for years and love his skill with words. I also agree with his political point of view. What could have been a sentimental rehash of "making "lemonade out of lemons" was a beautiful evocation of how important perspective is when adversity pounces.
Frank Bruni's heartfelt writing about the sudden loss of sight in one eye due to a stroke affecting the optic nerve is so relatable. Yeah, yeah, we've heard it all before: be thankful - life is good. But I need that reminder once in a while, maybe every day. Those I pass by or know only casually may be dealing with crushing hardships. As Bruni says, "We can't control what happens to us, but we can control how we react to it."
Sometimes, Bruni says, adversity can heighten experiences in ways we may not have realized previously. Dog lovers will relate to lessons the author learned from his dog, finding pleasure in small things and having a new zeal for life. Adversity may bring out an inner strength we may not have known we had. It can give us a deeper compassion for others, an electric current of shared hardships.
Frank Bruni's heartfelt writing about the sudden loss of sight in one eye due to a stroke affecting the optic nerve is so relatable. Yeah, yeah, we've heard it all before: be thankful - life is good. But I need that reminder once in a while, maybe every day. Those I pass by or know only casually may be dealing with crushing hardships. As Bruni says, "We can't control what happens to us, but we can control how we react to it."
Sometimes, Bruni says, adversity can heighten experiences in ways we may not have realized previously. Dog lovers will relate to lessons the author learned from his dog, finding pleasure in small things and having a new zeal for life. Adversity may bring out an inner strength we may not have known we had. It can give us a deeper compassion for others, an electric current of shared hardships.
March 2, 2022
The man can write. If you love the written word, as I do, that alone is worth the trouble to take in his prose. It’s witty. It’s profound. It’s succinct. And you never need to open a dictionary. It doesn’t get much better.
Bruni lost the sight in one of his eyes, or at least all clarity of sight, to a non-arteritic anterior optic neuropathy, which, to his credit, he only writes out once. Recovery was unlikely and there was always the chance that the same thing would eventually besiege his other eye and he would be essentially blind. He was fifty-two.
There are two major themes to the book, but a lot of context around each. The first is that with catastrophe can come perspective, but he goes out of his way to note that it’s not a zero-sum exchange. This is not a book about silver linings. It is more a book about our ability to grow as people if we have the tolerance to do so. “Someone somewhere has probably floated the proposition that for every loss there’s a commensurate gain, but that’s not what I’m peddling here.”
The second theme is the central core of Buddhist belief and what every therapist, without exception, will tell you – life is suffering. Sometimes, however, it takes a little suffering to see it around us, a sad reality that can be a further catalyst to more of that personal growth. He suggests we all wear sandwich boards detailing our suffering to spare us the time and awkwardness of discovery. A good idea conceptually, I think, if not quite practical on a crowded urban sidewalk.
There are digressions. About his partner. About a dog. About the many people he has met in his work and the places he has been. He ultimately wraps them all up in a bow, however, and you ultimately realize that digression is his ultimate theme, although even he may not agree with that assessment.
In 1962, at the age of eight, with pediatrics in its infancy, my parents were told that the frequent seizures I was experiencing would likely be permanent and that they should plan accordingly. I spent a year in isolation because although there was nothing wrong with my thinking our public schools were not so enlightened in those days as to allow me to attend. (Seizures would be too disruptive.) And when I was allowed out of bed I was forced to wear protective headgear to protect my head in case it came into contact with the corner of the coffee table. (Childproofing a home wasn’t an industry yet.)
Not long after the dire diagnosis was delivered, however, the doctors ran what was to be a strictly diagnostic test involving draining all of the fluid from around the brain and replacing it with gas, without anesthesia, a procedure which modern neurologists who have looked at my file routinely refer to as barbaric, but I haven’t had a seizure in the sixty years hence. My existence at the time, in fact, prepared me well for life during the pandemic when I often found myself wondering why people were so distraught over the solitude of the lockdown. (I didn’t have Netflix in 1962.)
My point is that Bruni gave voice not only to his own affliction, but to the affliction all of us have suffered in one form or another. Only he did it with the skills he has honed over a long and distinguished career, skills that few of us could have brought to the task.
The result is insightful, delightful, and inspiring. I highly recommend it.
Bruni lost the sight in one of his eyes, or at least all clarity of sight, to a non-arteritic anterior optic neuropathy, which, to his credit, he only writes out once. Recovery was unlikely and there was always the chance that the same thing would eventually besiege his other eye and he would be essentially blind. He was fifty-two.
There are two major themes to the book, but a lot of context around each. The first is that with catastrophe can come perspective, but he goes out of his way to note that it’s not a zero-sum exchange. This is not a book about silver linings. It is more a book about our ability to grow as people if we have the tolerance to do so. “Someone somewhere has probably floated the proposition that for every loss there’s a commensurate gain, but that’s not what I’m peddling here.”
The second theme is the central core of Buddhist belief and what every therapist, without exception, will tell you – life is suffering. Sometimes, however, it takes a little suffering to see it around us, a sad reality that can be a further catalyst to more of that personal growth. He suggests we all wear sandwich boards detailing our suffering to spare us the time and awkwardness of discovery. A good idea conceptually, I think, if not quite practical on a crowded urban sidewalk.
There are digressions. About his partner. About a dog. About the many people he has met in his work and the places he has been. He ultimately wraps them all up in a bow, however, and you ultimately realize that digression is his ultimate theme, although even he may not agree with that assessment.
In 1962, at the age of eight, with pediatrics in its infancy, my parents were told that the frequent seizures I was experiencing would likely be permanent and that they should plan accordingly. I spent a year in isolation because although there was nothing wrong with my thinking our public schools were not so enlightened in those days as to allow me to attend. (Seizures would be too disruptive.) And when I was allowed out of bed I was forced to wear protective headgear to protect my head in case it came into contact with the corner of the coffee table. (Childproofing a home wasn’t an industry yet.)
Not long after the dire diagnosis was delivered, however, the doctors ran what was to be a strictly diagnostic test involving draining all of the fluid from around the brain and replacing it with gas, without anesthesia, a procedure which modern neurologists who have looked at my file routinely refer to as barbaric, but I haven’t had a seizure in the sixty years hence. My existence at the time, in fact, prepared me well for life during the pandemic when I often found myself wondering why people were so distraught over the solitude of the lockdown. (I didn’t have Netflix in 1962.)
My point is that Bruni gave voice not only to his own affliction, but to the affliction all of us have suffered in one form or another. Only he did it with the skills he has honed over a long and distinguished career, skills that few of us could have brought to the task.
The result is insightful, delightful, and inspiring. I highly recommend it.
October 13, 2022
Overdrive library Audiobook…read by Frank Bruni
….8 hours and 46 minutes
I’ve never forgotten Frank Bruni’s memoir, “Born Round”, written in 2009. I still own and treasure my Hardcopy.
At the time, Frank was the restaurant critic for the New York Times.
I came away feeling a huge heart for this beautiful man!!
So now — years later —I just finished ‘listening’ to
“The Beauty of Dusk”.
I must thank Diane Barnes …
I hadn’t even notice this book — until her wonderful review recently….
Frank Bruni (feel good) memories came rolling back to me. I was happy to read this new Bruni memoir
[I’ve been on a memoir kick since the pandemic- in part because soooo many authors
wrote ‘theirs’ during the pandemic….and also in part — because many have been extraordinary…. or ‘at least’ wonderful daytime - move- with- me companions]….
I admit being nervous when Frank started describing
non-arthritic anterior optic neuropathy….
because Paul has been struggling with neuropathy for years (medication helps - but he still deals with pain)….
And now — he has a sudden eye problem (a year ago we had eye tests -everything was fine for both of us)…
This past week — Paul is having a sudden change in one eye (it’s hard for him to see out of it)….
so of course —I listened to Frank’s ‘blurred vision’ with a tad of fear and hope (for Paul).
But this memoir stretches far beyond the medical diagnosis…(Frank had a rare type of stroke during the sleeping hours that left him with loss vision in one eye).
Frank opens our eyes - authentically to aging - to dealing with medical illness, disabilities- and loss from being able to do what we were once able to do — with TONS of WISDOM….
pre-mature disabilities—
the effects of losing eyesight - the fear, vulnerability, affects on ‘all’ aspects of life - and our relationships.
He included a poignant discussion about
hearing loss vs. eyesight loss …and why people play the debate game …
“would you rather lose your eyesight or your hearing?”
Seems life a silly debate-game when faced with reality of a very real physical set-back.
Frank is a half glass full guy - and spins a thoughtful perspective on reasons ‘half full’ — rather than ‘half empty’ actually really helps … (not as a panacea of heroism)… but as much as a part of ‘moving forward- accepting- and being at peace with the way things are).
Frank offers up a valuable debate for optimism rather than pessimism.
Given that everyone of us deals with hardships of one kind or another — Frank offers us sincere inspiration.
….8 hours and 46 minutes
I’ve never forgotten Frank Bruni’s memoir, “Born Round”, written in 2009. I still own and treasure my Hardcopy.
At the time, Frank was the restaurant critic for the New York Times.
I came away feeling a huge heart for this beautiful man!!
So now — years later —I just finished ‘listening’ to
“The Beauty of Dusk”.
I must thank Diane Barnes …
I hadn’t even notice this book — until her wonderful review recently….
Frank Bruni (feel good) memories came rolling back to me. I was happy to read this new Bruni memoir
[I’ve been on a memoir kick since the pandemic- in part because soooo many authors
wrote ‘theirs’ during the pandemic….and also in part — because many have been extraordinary…. or ‘at least’ wonderful daytime - move- with- me companions]….
I admit being nervous when Frank started describing
non-arthritic anterior optic neuropathy….
because Paul has been struggling with neuropathy for years (medication helps - but he still deals with pain)….
And now — he has a sudden eye problem (a year ago we had eye tests -everything was fine for both of us)…
This past week — Paul is having a sudden change in one eye (it’s hard for him to see out of it)….
so of course —I listened to Frank’s ‘blurred vision’ with a tad of fear and hope (for Paul).
But this memoir stretches far beyond the medical diagnosis…(Frank had a rare type of stroke during the sleeping hours that left him with loss vision in one eye).
Frank opens our eyes - authentically to aging - to dealing with medical illness, disabilities- and loss from being able to do what we were once able to do — with TONS of WISDOM….
pre-mature disabilities—
the effects of losing eyesight - the fear, vulnerability, affects on ‘all’ aspects of life - and our relationships.
He included a poignant discussion about
hearing loss vs. eyesight loss …and why people play the debate game …
“would you rather lose your eyesight or your hearing?”
Seems life a silly debate-game when faced with reality of a very real physical set-back.
Frank is a half glass full guy - and spins a thoughtful perspective on reasons ‘half full’ — rather than ‘half empty’ actually really helps … (not as a panacea of heroism)… but as much as a part of ‘moving forward- accepting- and being at peace with the way things are).
Frank offers up a valuable debate for optimism rather than pessimism.
Given that everyone of us deals with hardships of one kind or another — Frank offers us sincere inspiration.
March 12, 2022
It pains me to say this as I am a fan of Bruni’s criticism and editorial writing, but I think this was about 80-100 pages of good material stretched out to a 300 page book. Probably would have been a wonderful article for the Sunday NY Times Magazine. But not a 300 page book!
December 22, 2023
Bruni writes about the challenges of losing his vision and brings his personal struggles into a broader context by looking at other people who have faced various physical and mental health challenges. The result is a generous and hopeful book that I really enjoyed.
January 10, 2022
Frank Bruni's mastery of language is overshadowed only by his ability to tap into the deepest of human emotions and break them open.
The Beauty of Dusk is a meditation on grief, aging, and, most importantly, adaptation. It is about humanity's need for clarity, despite the nearly constant blurry signals we are given in our search for it. It is about our ability to change, to empathize, to be vulnerable. It is about treating yourself with grace and how, once you do, you can extend that kindness to others. It is about taking the losses and making them gains, savoring every moment while it is happening, and learning to be content with your own existence, however messy and imperfect it may be.
The Beauty of Dusk is a meditation on grief, aging, and, most importantly, adaptation. It is about humanity's need for clarity, despite the nearly constant blurry signals we are given in our search for it. It is about our ability to change, to empathize, to be vulnerable. It is about treating yourself with grace and how, once you do, you can extend that kindness to others. It is about taking the losses and making them gains, savoring every moment while it is happening, and learning to be content with your own existence, however messy and imperfect it may be.
March 27, 2022
Review of Frank Bruni's Memoir The Beauty of Dusk: On Vision Lost and Found
Successful journalist with first world problems gets grounded when he wakes one morning with visual impairment in his right eye.
Now he decides to write a collection of stories about people who suffer adversity and can manage their life and push through it to succeed.
Unfortunately, it's comparable to a book about athletes and competitive sportspeople, where all he does is talk about Olympic gold medal winners and Superbowl champions.
This is in no way a book which reflects the everyday reality of life for people with disabilities and those suffering with constant pain or illness.
I was hoping for some greater insight into the troubles and life changes due to blindness. Instead, we get glimpses into Bruni's life and hiscontemplations "analysis paralysis" about the inevitability of growing old.
I'm sorry, but no matter how well Bruni writes this is over simplified and hasn't added much to the discourse on coping with disability.
Successful journalist with first world problems gets grounded when he wakes one morning with visual impairment in his right eye.
Now he decides to write a collection of stories about people who suffer adversity and can manage their life and push through it to succeed.
Unfortunately, it's comparable to a book about athletes and competitive sportspeople, where all he does is talk about Olympic gold medal winners and Superbowl champions.
This is in no way a book which reflects the everyday reality of life for people with disabilities and those suffering with constant pain or illness.
I was hoping for some greater insight into the troubles and life changes due to blindness. Instead, we get glimpses into Bruni's life and his
I'm sorry, but no matter how well Bruni writes this is over simplified and hasn't added much to the discourse on coping with disability.
February 27, 2022
A lovely feel-good discussion of what it is to be disabled in some way. The author suffers a loss of vision and much to his surprise it becomes a learning experience of profound measure. He is amazed to learn that not only is it part of aging, but that he develops a new approach to perception. Everyone is different, and his loss of vision is part of who he is. This leads to the revelation that almost everyone he encounters has something about their uniqueness that might be considered a disability, but is often simply who they are. He begins to find people who travel without vision but describe in great detail what they experience because sight is not the only way to "see".
Our brains construct a view of the environment around us, and all senses are used. If we lose part, or all of one, or more, senses, the brain will simply construct a view of the environment given the information at hand. Usually this is quite sufficient for a person to live a full and purposeful life.
He goes on to note that aging is not simply loss, but gain as well. One gains what might be called wisdom, and one can gain a more serene relationship with living once past the career-building years. He points to aged people at the pinnacle of life, such as Ruth Bader Ginsberg, Dr. Anthony Fauchi, and President Biden to name just a few.
This is a terrific book!
Our brains construct a view of the environment around us, and all senses are used. If we lose part, or all of one, or more, senses, the brain will simply construct a view of the environment given the information at hand. Usually this is quite sufficient for a person to live a full and purposeful life.
He goes on to note that aging is not simply loss, but gain as well. One gains what might be called wisdom, and one can gain a more serene relationship with living once past the career-building years. He points to aged people at the pinnacle of life, such as Ruth Bader Ginsberg, Dr. Anthony Fauchi, and President Biden to name just a few.
This is a terrific book!
January 4, 2023
This feels like a good essay that was placed on a torture rack until it became a book.
March 13, 2022
I went to bed with more grievances than I could count. I woke up with more gratitude than I can measure. My story is one of loss. It’s also one of gain. (p. 1).
Visual problems run in my family. My father is blind from low-pressure glaucoma, my great-aunt from macular degeneration. My daughter had a cataract in her left eye at five, which made her effectively blind in that eye. You'd never know. My brother has had a detached retina. So, I couldn't stay away from Frank Bruni's Beauty of the Dusk, where he considers his own blindness as a result of a stroke that left one eye "smeary" and at 20-40% probability of losing his vision in his other eye.
The major reason I read Beauty of the Dusk, though, is that I am a long-term fan of Bruni's, reading his New York Times blog weekly. I love the compassion, insightfulness, and love of the written word that characterizes his work. He includes a regular feature called Love of Sentences in his blog, which is just what it says. His readers nominate lovely bits of journalistic writing.
Doctors are flawed. They’re human. We want them to be gods, because we want that certainty, that salvation. We want clear roles: The doctor commands; the patient obeys. But, at times, in their imperfection and arrogance and haste, they make assumptions and mistakes. So it’s crucial to approach a relationship with a doctor, any doctor, as a partnership and to consider yourself an equal partner, respectful but not obsequious, receptive but skeptical. (p. 59)
Although Bruni talks about his diagnosis and treatment experience, his grief when he and his partner decided to split up, his father's dementia, this is a hopeful book. He meditates on grief and aging, yes, but more on coping, adaptation and change, and possible wisdom. Disability is not inevitable but one possibility, even in response to blindness, Parkinson's, and loss. He discovered that vulnerability and openness rather than rigid denial can lead to joy. He treated himself with grace – and was more able to listen to others' pain and extend compassion and kindness to them: "We don’t get to choose what we’re given in the way of hardship, and each of us—every last one of us—is given something" (p. 100).
Bruni does these things with a considerable dash of good-hearted humor, as when he shares Todd Blenkhorn's riffs about the confusing language about blindness. "Legally blind? …I’ve never done any paperwork or anything.” Visually impaired? Maybe visually inconvenienced? No. “Visually inconvenienced—I picture a sighted person on the beach when I walk through their line of sight with no shirt on… “That person has been visually inconvenienced. Possibly visually traumatized” (pp. 244-245).
Beauty of the Dusk isn't a lemonade sort of book (when God gives you lemons, make lemonade), but a recognition that there can be gains with losses, that life can and should be savored every day, maybe especially after learning that life is short.
"When one eye closes another opens. That’s not a fact. It’s a perspective, which makes it no less true" (p. 241).
Visual problems run in my family. My father is blind from low-pressure glaucoma, my great-aunt from macular degeneration. My daughter had a cataract in her left eye at five, which made her effectively blind in that eye. You'd never know. My brother has had a detached retina. So, I couldn't stay away from Frank Bruni's Beauty of the Dusk, where he considers his own blindness as a result of a stroke that left one eye "smeary" and at 20-40% probability of losing his vision in his other eye.
The major reason I read Beauty of the Dusk, though, is that I am a long-term fan of Bruni's, reading his New York Times blog weekly. I love the compassion, insightfulness, and love of the written word that characterizes his work. He includes a regular feature called Love of Sentences in his blog, which is just what it says. His readers nominate lovely bits of journalistic writing.
Doctors are flawed. They’re human. We want them to be gods, because we want that certainty, that salvation. We want clear roles: The doctor commands; the patient obeys. But, at times, in their imperfection and arrogance and haste, they make assumptions and mistakes. So it’s crucial to approach a relationship with a doctor, any doctor, as a partnership and to consider yourself an equal partner, respectful but not obsequious, receptive but skeptical. (p. 59)
Although Bruni talks about his diagnosis and treatment experience, his grief when he and his partner decided to split up, his father's dementia, this is a hopeful book. He meditates on grief and aging, yes, but more on coping, adaptation and change, and possible wisdom. Disability is not inevitable but one possibility, even in response to blindness, Parkinson's, and loss. He discovered that vulnerability and openness rather than rigid denial can lead to joy. He treated himself with grace – and was more able to listen to others' pain and extend compassion and kindness to them: "We don’t get to choose what we’re given in the way of hardship, and each of us—every last one of us—is given something" (p. 100).
Bruni does these things with a considerable dash of good-hearted humor, as when he shares Todd Blenkhorn's riffs about the confusing language about blindness. "Legally blind? …I’ve never done any paperwork or anything.” Visually impaired? Maybe visually inconvenienced? No. “Visually inconvenienced—I picture a sighted person on the beach when I walk through their line of sight with no shirt on… “That person has been visually inconvenienced. Possibly visually traumatized” (pp. 244-245).
Beauty of the Dusk isn't a lemonade sort of book (when God gives you lemons, make lemonade), but a recognition that there can be gains with losses, that life can and should be savored every day, maybe especially after learning that life is short.
"When one eye closes another opens. That’s not a fact. It’s a perspective, which makes it no less true" (p. 241).
July 22, 2022
It’s the kind of book that makes you think and appreciate what you have. To live the momemt, vivdely.
His well-articulated words make you look at life from a different perspective. There were a few chapters. I genuinely fought the urge to skip them, but I didn't.
His well-articulated words make you look at life from a different perspective. There were a few chapters. I genuinely fought the urge to skip them, but I didn't.
July 15, 2022
Pretty dreadful. Pedantic and self indulgent.
January 23, 2023
I have many thoughts on this book. For starters, my mom has NAION so I am familiar with the diagnosis through firsthand experience with her. We had both read Bruni’s columns in the Times and were so excited to have this book come out. We’ve always said that it will take someone really famous to raise awareness on NAION— non-arteritic anterior ischemic optic neuropathy. It is called non-arteritic because there’s reduced blood flow so it’s like a stroke, but to consistently call it a stroke in this book is very misleading. Perhaps my biggest problem with this book is that it doesn’t really take into account how little research is being done on this condition and how, because of this, all doctors have different beliefs and opinions as to what causes it, why, and what can be done. An instance of such a conflicting opinion per his book is when he talks about Dr. Moazami’s misdirection. She had recommended that he take oxygen on a plane with him because it’s widely believed that you shouldn’t fly for a few months after your first NAION attack. When he consulted the clinical neuro-ophthalmologist about this, they had posted in an online group where most people agreed that flying posed little to no risk. He then is quick to bash Dr. Moazami saying that doctors are flawed but doesn’t touch on the harsh reality: there is no research being done on NAION so NO ONE knows for sure, not even the doctors of the clinical trial.
Something else that bothers me is how he briefly talks about how NAION has affected his professional life, but doesn’t touch much on the personal aside from spilling coffee the first morning he woke up with blurry vision due to lack of peripheral vision. It is true that everyone with this condition sees differently, but I expected more focus to be on how he’s made adjustments and has coped. Instead, he goes on in a series of what feels like mini essays with other people with disabilities unrelated to NAION. He does talk about visual struggles briefly in certain sections— enlarging font, raising point size from 18 to 22 to give a lecture, driving at night, but there’s not much day-to-day explanations. Again, I know that everyone is different. I’ve seen it firsthand from my mom’s NAION support group that I found online for her. There are many components to NAION— dark vision, no depth of field, and constant blurriness just to name a few. Someone might not be able to cook as much because they don't have the depth perception to chop food, someone can continually question whether there is a curb or if the sidewalk is flat.With so many unknowns in a seeing world, even the simplest of daily tasks are difficult. All this to say, I wish I had seen more a personal side to Bruni’s story rather than him digressing into other people’s stories and dropping names or, at the very least, I wish he had interviewed other people with NAION and make this a book solely about vision loss and coping with it.
As I continued reading, this book became more about people in general and less about him, NAION, and raising awareness like I was led to believe. In my humble opinion, this book is marketed as something it’s not and has provided some misconceptions of NAION in the process. Some of the reviews refer to this condition as solely a stroke, in which most assume it’s a bodily stroke not related to the optic nerve specifically, and some refer to low vision as complete blindness. There are various levels of low vision. Blindness signifies no vision whatsoever whereas low vision signifies seeing under a certain standard, which even Bruni points out. Some people with NAION are fully blind in one eye, while others are not. I wish this book had stressed more that everyone with this condition is different and ultimately, this is a mysterious condition that affects few people. My point is, for a book marketed to be about vision loss, the book was lacking in material.The synopsis sounded much better! If anything, read only the first third of it…
Something else that bothers me is how he briefly talks about how NAION has affected his professional life, but doesn’t touch much on the personal aside from spilling coffee the first morning he woke up with blurry vision due to lack of peripheral vision. It is true that everyone with this condition sees differently, but I expected more focus to be on how he’s made adjustments and has coped. Instead, he goes on in a series of what feels like mini essays with other people with disabilities unrelated to NAION. He does talk about visual struggles briefly in certain sections— enlarging font, raising point size from 18 to 22 to give a lecture, driving at night, but there’s not much day-to-day explanations. Again, I know that everyone is different. I’ve seen it firsthand from my mom’s NAION support group that I found online for her. There are many components to NAION— dark vision, no depth of field, and constant blurriness just to name a few. Someone might not be able to cook as much because they don't have the depth perception to chop food, someone can continually question whether there is a curb or if the sidewalk is flat.With so many unknowns in a seeing world, even the simplest of daily tasks are difficult. All this to say, I wish I had seen more a personal side to Bruni’s story rather than him digressing into other people’s stories and dropping names or, at the very least, I wish he had interviewed other people with NAION and make this a book solely about vision loss and coping with it.
As I continued reading, this book became more about people in general and less about him, NAION, and raising awareness like I was led to believe. In my humble opinion, this book is marketed as something it’s not and has provided some misconceptions of NAION in the process. Some of the reviews refer to this condition as solely a stroke, in which most assume it’s a bodily stroke not related to the optic nerve specifically, and some refer to low vision as complete blindness. There are various levels of low vision. Blindness signifies no vision whatsoever whereas low vision signifies seeing under a certain standard, which even Bruni points out. Some people with NAION are fully blind in one eye, while others are not. I wish this book had stressed more that everyone with this condition is different and ultimately, this is a mysterious condition that affects few people. My point is, for a book marketed to be about vision loss, the book was lacking in material.The synopsis sounded much better! If anything, read only the first third of it…
June 16, 2024
I just finished his memoir about his childhood, Born Round, and since I loved it, I decided to stick with the author on another book: BIG MISTAKE ON MY PART!
Parts near the beginning about his difficult journey, with the realization of his increasing vision limitations were very interesting and inspiring.
Then suddenly, I was feeling whiplash and tho't i was listening to a different book as Bruni switched and talked at length about his interviews with Cyrus Habib, blind ex-Lt Governor of WA State, maybe because they had similar challenges and he admired him.
After CH was elected, and not- inexpensive accommodations had been made for him, he felt the call to enter another profession, known for child sexual abuse. This was not a very popular state decision after many of us had campaigned and donated on his behalf.
Then Bruni went on to interview and admire profusely for unapparent reasons 3 other famous people without vision loss. One was Justice Ginsburg, who IMO did a lot of good during her many years on the Supreme Court, but her positive actions are already being vastly outweighed by the terrible consequences of her refusing to resign --with 3 right-wing justices appointed, whose majority are inflicting much pain and back-tracking on our country's progress.
He also talked about Fauci, who indeed was a Godsend to our country and the world, probably saving many lives and who somehow hung on throughout unwarranted criticism.
Our current president was also mentioned, and while he was definitely the better choice in the recent election, a lot of us can't help but resent him for cutting off long-ago deliberations when Anita Hill was testifying against C Thomas, but she wasn't given enough time.
So our poor country has been stuck with C Thomas as a SCt judge for too many years, with his wife now outwardly campaigning for the overturn of the last election, yet he won't recuse himself and isn't being disciplined. I could say more re a personal family situation with Biden: It's too much to explain, but he basically did not do his appointed job, with tragic results.
These interview compilations were a large part of the book --i listened at every fast speed to get thru it, disappointed and appalled at his lack of judgment in wandering off the subject. If he had an editor, it could have been much shorter, but an excellent book, fulfilling the promise of the title.
It's felt good to rant about my disappointment with an experienced and sometimes excellent writer!
Audio Overdrive at 1.25 up to double speed. His narration was good IMO.
Parts near the beginning about his difficult journey, with the realization of his increasing vision limitations were very interesting and inspiring.
Then suddenly, I was feeling whiplash and tho't i was listening to a different book as Bruni switched and talked at length about his interviews with Cyrus Habib, blind ex-Lt Governor of WA State, maybe because they had similar challenges and he admired him.
After CH was elected, and not- inexpensive accommodations had been made for him, he felt the call to enter another profession, known for child sexual abuse. This was not a very popular state decision after many of us had campaigned and donated on his behalf.
Then Bruni went on to interview and admire profusely for unapparent reasons 3 other famous people without vision loss. One was Justice Ginsburg, who IMO did a lot of good during her many years on the Supreme Court, but her positive actions are already being vastly outweighed by the terrible consequences of her refusing to resign --with 3 right-wing justices appointed, whose majority are inflicting much pain and back-tracking on our country's progress.
He also talked about Fauci, who indeed was a Godsend to our country and the world, probably saving many lives and who somehow hung on throughout unwarranted criticism.
Our current president was also mentioned, and while he was definitely the better choice in the recent election, a lot of us can't help but resent him for cutting off long-ago deliberations when Anita Hill was testifying against C Thomas, but she wasn't given enough time.
So our poor country has been stuck with C Thomas as a SCt judge for too many years, with his wife now outwardly campaigning for the overturn of the last election, yet he won't recuse himself and isn't being disciplined. I could say more re a personal family situation with Biden: It's too much to explain, but he basically did not do his appointed job, with tragic results.
These interview compilations were a large part of the book --i listened at every fast speed to get thru it, disappointed and appalled at his lack of judgment in wandering off the subject. If he had an editor, it could have been much shorter, but an excellent book, fulfilling the promise of the title.
It's felt good to rant about my disappointment with an experienced and sometimes excellent writer!
Audio Overdrive at 1.25 up to double speed. His narration was good IMO.
April 10, 2022
I have followed Frank Bruni’s writing career for decades and when he has a new book come out, I’m right there. When he wrote in the New York Times about waking up with blurred vision in one eye, and the subsequent months of doctor visits and prognosis, I read with interest; as someone who can be considered legally blind without my glasses, let alone one who makes a living reading and writing, I couldn’t imagine what I would do if it were me. Bruni asks that question of himself, but also of others: when hit with a life trauma or horrifying event, what are you going to do with that? How will you navigate your life going forward? He recounts the terror of the “what if”-- what if that other shoe drops, or in this case, the possibility the other eye goes blind? He faces this scary question head on, bringing his reader on his new life path. And along the way we meet others, friends and also new acquaintances, some who have gone through unspeakable health crises and other traumas. Bruni focuses on their stories of resiliency and what they do (or have done) to carry on. “Accentuate the positive, eliminate the negative” is how the song goes. And this doesn’t mean that there aren’t incredibly dark and sad times in their lives, but everyone, himself included, are prime examples of moving forward and taking one fork over the other in the road to continue walking and living life.
October 17, 2022
I found this book very detailed, meticulously so, and therefore, slow at times. And it was utterly worth the slowing down I experienced as I read. Frank Bruni shares stories of his friends, of famous people he has interviewed during his career writing NYT columns, and of people he learns about and then asks to talk with, people who are experiencing challenges, physical or emotional, people who are learning through aging the importance of resilience, of how one labels or perceives challenges. I loved the passages about Dr. Fauci and his late life shift from thriving in his career to doing what he knows is the right thing, regardless of how he is torn apart in the press. So many passages I marked. It feels like it was written for me, often struggling with physical limitations as I experience my 73rd year in a body that has experienced countless physical challenges from the time I was a little kid.
I've managed to live thrive in spite of them, I've hiked in Lassen National Park...to the top of Lassen MT. and to the top of Harkness Mt. and Crystal Cliffs many, many times. This is thanks to my husband who spent his summers there, and urged me, in spite of a reconstructed knee to join him on hikes. The book reminded me of how many things I didn't want to try and how glad I am now that I did them anyway. And even more, the stories Bruni shared, reminded me that it is frame of mind even more than physical persistence, that matters.
possible spoilers...passages I want to return to:
I loved his friend, Nora Ephron's motto, "Everything is copy. "Copy" is an old-fashioned newspaper term for material...often treated as defense pf writers' oversharing of their own or their acquaintances lives...(but, accd. to Bruni)Nora was simply stating that if you were in the words business and something amusing or interesting or maybe even profound happened to you, you used it. You turned it into copy. That was your trade, maybe even your calling.
22 Bruni reached out to people, even strangers, who'd lost vision...or who'd encountered some other disability or illness long before old age...Ahead of schedule, these people took a crash course in limitations and uncertainty and compromises, and now I was enrolled in it.
24 With my one good eye, I looked harder an longer and I hope more soulfully at everything around me, starting with my acqs. and friends. I realize that we know too little about the people in our lives because we inspect them only superficially, ask the easy and polite questions , edit them down to the parts that give us the least complicated and easiest pleasure. There's heartache in them that we don't adequately recognize, triumph in them that we don't sufficiently venerate. On the morning after my stroke, I woke up to that as well.
26 a large number of people see well as infants and children. The know know the visual splendor of the world before it is veiled....
29 That more doesn't go wrong is a wonder, even a miracle. That so many of us skate across long expanses of our lives in an unbroken glide...defies logic. But the glide eventually ends, jags. These bodies of ours ARE time bombs, but each detonates in a different way.
30 His grudges about his family...how silly they are in retrospect.
63 what he asks for in retrospect
106-107, 138, 155, 216 his friend Dorrie, 218--223, 240-41
I've managed to live thrive in spite of them, I've hiked in Lassen National Park...to the top of Lassen MT. and to the top of Harkness Mt. and Crystal Cliffs many, many times. This is thanks to my husband who spent his summers there, and urged me, in spite of a reconstructed knee to join him on hikes. The book reminded me of how many things I didn't want to try and how glad I am now that I did them anyway. And even more, the stories Bruni shared, reminded me that it is frame of mind even more than physical persistence, that matters.
possible spoilers...passages I want to return to:
I loved his friend, Nora Ephron's motto, "Everything is copy. "Copy" is an old-fashioned newspaper term for material...often treated as defense pf writers' oversharing of their own or their acquaintances lives...(but, accd. to Bruni)Nora was simply stating that if you were in the words business and something amusing or interesting or maybe even profound happened to you, you used it. You turned it into copy. That was your trade, maybe even your calling.
22 Bruni reached out to people, even strangers, who'd lost vision...or who'd encountered some other disability or illness long before old age...Ahead of schedule, these people took a crash course in limitations and uncertainty and compromises, and now I was enrolled in it.
24 With my one good eye, I looked harder an longer and I hope more soulfully at everything around me, starting with my acqs. and friends. I realize that we know too little about the people in our lives because we inspect them only superficially, ask the easy and polite questions , edit them down to the parts that give us the least complicated and easiest pleasure. There's heartache in them that we don't adequately recognize, triumph in them that we don't sufficiently venerate. On the morning after my stroke, I woke up to that as well.
26 a large number of people see well as infants and children. The know know the visual splendor of the world before it is veiled....
29 That more doesn't go wrong is a wonder, even a miracle. That so many of us skate across long expanses of our lives in an unbroken glide...defies logic. But the glide eventually ends, jags. These bodies of ours ARE time bombs, but each detonates in a different way.
30 His grudges about his family...how silly they are in retrospect.
63 what he asks for in retrospect
106-107, 138, 155, 216 his friend Dorrie, 218--223, 240-41
April 17, 2022
Skimmed the latter part of the book because I wasn't engaged. I had sympathy for the author and the other people he described and their experiences of disability, but it felt like a semi-random collection of anecdotes. And there wasn't a single example of someone who also struggled with financial difficulties or problems accessing health care, which doesn't reflect the reality of the vast majority of people in the US.
May 30, 2022
I . LOVED . THIS . BOOK !!!
We all accept misfortune or the negatives as part of life. 'Children learn what they live' is an old and true adage. Wedding vows contain the pros and cons of living together. Little sayings abound; yet are full of truth.
When I was born the OB used forcepts for a breach delivery. I was left with a head injury which resulted in epilepsy, ocular damage to the right eye and a slight imbalance. When born with hidden disabilities, a patient knows nothing else; their life seems "normal" to them. My parents were never helicopter parents. They wanted me to enjoy childhood and life as much as humanly possible. I seldom thought about health issues other than I have always taken medications and knew some things were dangerous for me, but certainly not off limits; common sense was advised.
As science and medicine improved (and I grew up), I became aware one autoimmune disease often led to others and felt fortunate that I'd been able to raise my son and work in a demanding career which was thriving and enjoyable for decades without further heath issues. In my early 50's diabetes reared its head, followed a few years later by lupus and RA. Then the cataract surgeries (left was successful; right not so much). Later, a retina surgery for a hole in the right eye, which did not heal as expected; my vision is simply grey. Next: a YAG Capsulotomy scheduled for June 28th (quick, easy procedure). My Ophthalmologist hopes for improved light rather than an improvement in vision. I'll take whatever is possible at this point since I'm actually using the left eye for vision.
An accident which totaled both vehicles and left me with massive bruises, a concussion, as well as three fractures in my back and another in my left leg resulted in a full body brace for almost five months and daily injections of FORTEO since I was unable to undergo anesthesia (due to seizures). My Rheumatologist recommended the use of daily injections of FORTEO for up to 24 months to build the strong bones I desperately needed. It worked in 18 months! No surgery; no seizures. Much stronger bones left me grateful to be healthy, alive and finally back to normal routines a couple of years later after some extensive PT.
Like Frank Bruni, I have maintained twice daily long walking in all kinds of weather. Also working in my beloved flowerbeds, volunteering in the community, the City Parks, Church landscaping committee, local Democratic Party, and donating time and talents to various organizations.
But Frank Bruni looked at his diagnosis of the probable loss of vision in his right eye in a philosophical manner, becoming a much gentler and wiser person as a result. Shortly after the diagnosis, his partner of almost 10 years decided to leave the relationship for another person. This memoir of his journey following a stroke which resulted in the deterioration of his eyesight is wickedly clever with language and subtle humor. Bruni continues as a writer for New York Times in spite of his limited vision and churns out best-selling books occasionally.
"Why me?" There is a better question, of course. "Why not me?"
"We don't get to choose what we're given in the way of hardship, and each of us--every last one of us--is given something." ~Frank Bruni (pg. 100)
'Why should any of us be spared struggle, when struggle is a condition more universal than comfort, than satiation, than peace, maybe love? Should we even be calling or thinking of it as struggle, which connotes an exertion beyond the usual, a deviation from the norm?' (pg. 107).
"The truth is that we all have more pain than the world typically knows." ~ Betsey Stevenson (pg. 129).
"We can't control what happens to us, but we can control how we react to it." ~ Frank Bruni
Aging, acceptance, living with, goals, new priorities, "God", and the loneliness of a disability. Profound writing explores what is important in life after a diagnosis of loss of eyesight. This is a deep insight (puns intended) into Frank Bruni's altered vision of his life and how he adjusted to living with the sudden dark side. Unlike me, he talked about it - a lot. He asked other people for their experiences and shared his.
He learned pure joy from his dog and her joy of living. Simply, without many possessions; with shared companionship, regular meals, exercise, and long, sound sleep. Few demands placed upon her or by her. Bruni took this to heart and altered his lifestyle. A quiet peaceful calmness enveloped him.
Frank Bruni's remarks with Bob Kerry, former Governor of Nebraska, caught my attention. Bob Kerry was one of the intelligent, charismatic people I campaigned for during his runs for office. We periodically visited over drinks in a quiet bar in Lincoln's downtown business district. Seldom was Debra Winger with him. He was a politician before he was a boyfriend and needed to visit with his colleagues. He grew up in Lincoln and tried to help a very red state with its conservative voters think about future generations. Most Nebraskan's know about Bob Kerry's heroic role as a Navy Seal and his loss of a lower leg. Bruni dug deeper to discover the sadness and pain Kerry still endures from those wounds so many decades ago which few Nebraskans know. Fabulous and sensitive writer!
Like Frank Bruni, the Pandemic brought relief with solitude, reading and enjoyment of community landscaping in City Parks, on University property and for my Church. Volunteering with others outside, safely 6 feet apart was fun, rewarding, educational, and kept a small social life alive while talking about books, favorite music, politics, and more! We had adapted well during the COVID outbreak and made new friends in safe places with like-mined people.
Bruni wrote a book during the pandemic which I read and thoroughly enjoyed. His writing in the Times is always a favorite of mine, but 'The Beauty of Dusk' is an excellent read for everyone!
We all accept misfortune or the negatives as part of life. 'Children learn what they live' is an old and true adage. Wedding vows contain the pros and cons of living together. Little sayings abound; yet are full of truth.
When I was born the OB used forcepts for a breach delivery. I was left with a head injury which resulted in epilepsy, ocular damage to the right eye and a slight imbalance. When born with hidden disabilities, a patient knows nothing else; their life seems "normal" to them. My parents were never helicopter parents. They wanted me to enjoy childhood and life as much as humanly possible. I seldom thought about health issues other than I have always taken medications and knew some things were dangerous for me, but certainly not off limits; common sense was advised.
As science and medicine improved (and I grew up), I became aware one autoimmune disease often led to others and felt fortunate that I'd been able to raise my son and work in a demanding career which was thriving and enjoyable for decades without further heath issues. In my early 50's diabetes reared its head, followed a few years later by lupus and RA. Then the cataract surgeries (left was successful; right not so much). Later, a retina surgery for a hole in the right eye, which did not heal as expected; my vision is simply grey. Next: a YAG Capsulotomy scheduled for June 28th (quick, easy procedure). My Ophthalmologist hopes for improved light rather than an improvement in vision. I'll take whatever is possible at this point since I'm actually using the left eye for vision.
An accident which totaled both vehicles and left me with massive bruises, a concussion, as well as three fractures in my back and another in my left leg resulted in a full body brace for almost five months and daily injections of FORTEO since I was unable to undergo anesthesia (due to seizures). My Rheumatologist recommended the use of daily injections of FORTEO for up to 24 months to build the strong bones I desperately needed. It worked in 18 months! No surgery; no seizures. Much stronger bones left me grateful to be healthy, alive and finally back to normal routines a couple of years later after some extensive PT.
Like Frank Bruni, I have maintained twice daily long walking in all kinds of weather. Also working in my beloved flowerbeds, volunteering in the community, the City Parks, Church landscaping committee, local Democratic Party, and donating time and talents to various organizations.
But Frank Bruni looked at his diagnosis of the probable loss of vision in his right eye in a philosophical manner, becoming a much gentler and wiser person as a result. Shortly after the diagnosis, his partner of almost 10 years decided to leave the relationship for another person. This memoir of his journey following a stroke which resulted in the deterioration of his eyesight is wickedly clever with language and subtle humor. Bruni continues as a writer for New York Times in spite of his limited vision and churns out best-selling books occasionally.
"Why me?" There is a better question, of course. "Why not me?"
"We don't get to choose what we're given in the way of hardship, and each of us--every last one of us--is given something." ~Frank Bruni (pg. 100)
'Why should any of us be spared struggle, when struggle is a condition more universal than comfort, than satiation, than peace, maybe love? Should we even be calling or thinking of it as struggle, which connotes an exertion beyond the usual, a deviation from the norm?' (pg. 107).
"The truth is that we all have more pain than the world typically knows." ~ Betsey Stevenson (pg. 129).
"We can't control what happens to us, but we can control how we react to it." ~ Frank Bruni
Aging, acceptance, living with, goals, new priorities, "God", and the loneliness of a disability. Profound writing explores what is important in life after a diagnosis of loss of eyesight. This is a deep insight (puns intended) into Frank Bruni's altered vision of his life and how he adjusted to living with the sudden dark side. Unlike me, he talked about it - a lot. He asked other people for their experiences and shared his.
He learned pure joy from his dog and her joy of living. Simply, without many possessions; with shared companionship, regular meals, exercise, and long, sound sleep. Few demands placed upon her or by her. Bruni took this to heart and altered his lifestyle. A quiet peaceful calmness enveloped him.
Frank Bruni's remarks with Bob Kerry, former Governor of Nebraska, caught my attention. Bob Kerry was one of the intelligent, charismatic people I campaigned for during his runs for office. We periodically visited over drinks in a quiet bar in Lincoln's downtown business district. Seldom was Debra Winger with him. He was a politician before he was a boyfriend and needed to visit with his colleagues. He grew up in Lincoln and tried to help a very red state with its conservative voters think about future generations. Most Nebraskan's know about Bob Kerry's heroic role as a Navy Seal and his loss of a lower leg. Bruni dug deeper to discover the sadness and pain Kerry still endures from those wounds so many decades ago which few Nebraskans know. Fabulous and sensitive writer!
Like Frank Bruni, the Pandemic brought relief with solitude, reading and enjoyment of community landscaping in City Parks, on University property and for my Church. Volunteering with others outside, safely 6 feet apart was fun, rewarding, educational, and kept a small social life alive while talking about books, favorite music, politics, and more! We had adapted well during the COVID outbreak and made new friends in safe places with like-mined people.
Bruni wrote a book during the pandemic which I read and thoroughly enjoyed. His writing in the Times is always a favorite of mine, but 'The Beauty of Dusk' is an excellent read for everyone!
November 10, 2022
I am a big fan of Frank Bruni's NYT columns and was so sad when he left his full-time job there after his stroke and subsequent loss of vision. Fortunately, he continues to share his thoughts in a weekly column on Thursdays, which I eagerly look forward to. Bruni is a gifted wordsmith who can turn a phrase like no other. His writing is always beautiful, profound, and never cliched. The same can be said for his most recent memoir, in which he shares the details of his stroke and subsequent loss of vision and its effect on his life. While the book is about his injury and life, he shares perspectives of others who've lived with disease and loss. He also talks about aging, and as his words so often do, a great deal of what he said hit home with me. I loved most when he talked about his dog, Regan, and her positive impact on his outlook. He certainly is in a very good place right now. What an uplifting, inspiring read!
January 1, 2023
A lovely and uplifting read for the last book of 2022.
January 15, 2022
When writer Frank Bruni suddenly woke up with vision loss from a stroke in his eye, he wasn’t expecting all that he would gain.
While this “loss” (emphasis on the quotes) is the pivotal event of the book, it read more like a series of short stories all woven together by a common discovery by those who have experience life-altering changes; there is so much beauty to be found in the breakdown. Sometimes the breakdown is vision loss, sometimes it’s grief, sometimes it’s cognitive decline like in the case of Bruno’s own father living with dementia. Dusk looks different for all of us.
I love a good tangent and this book was a buffet of them: interviews with fascinating people like the blind architect, dance instructor and world explorer who have persisted and thrived despite vision loss, scientific dives into our brains’ wild ability to pivot and, my favorite, a series of anecdotes that cut the fluff of a deeper lesson and illustrate what it’s actually like to lose the senses we take for granted. I lost track of the times I looked up and though “Woah. I never considered that.” Like how, when going blind, you have to use your current stock of photographic memories as a catalog to refer back to to imagine the world, your loved ones and even yourself as if everyone’s age is sort of frozen in time.
One of my favorites asides was the chapter about how getting to know his recently-adopted dog, Regan, paralleled his own experiences of learning to live in the present and reevaluate what is actually needed to live a full life. Together, they slowly savored their days, one walking trail at a time, discovering the simplest beauty that was right there in Bruni’s backyard the entire time, before life forced him to slow down and bask in it. Being an unabashed dog lover who is constantly in awe of all that animals teach us, I could have read an entire book about this relationship between man and his best friend.
As a New York Times journalist of 25+ years and an esteemed journalism professor at Duke University, Frank Bruni has clearly already proven his writing chops many times over, but I will vouch for his storytelling anyway. The experiences of those he interviewed alongside his own is proof of our resilience that left me feeling hopeful and in awe of human resilience as I closed the book.
As one of his interviewees, esteemed Judge David Tatel who happens to be blind, put it, “Starfish regrow limbs. But that’s nothing compared to what humans do.”
Disclosure: I received an ARC of this book as part of a Goodreads giveaway (and am so thankful for that!).
While this “loss” (emphasis on the quotes) is the pivotal event of the book, it read more like a series of short stories all woven together by a common discovery by those who have experience life-altering changes; there is so much beauty to be found in the breakdown. Sometimes the breakdown is vision loss, sometimes it’s grief, sometimes it’s cognitive decline like in the case of Bruno’s own father living with dementia. Dusk looks different for all of us.
I love a good tangent and this book was a buffet of them: interviews with fascinating people like the blind architect, dance instructor and world explorer who have persisted and thrived despite vision loss, scientific dives into our brains’ wild ability to pivot and, my favorite, a series of anecdotes that cut the fluff of a deeper lesson and illustrate what it’s actually like to lose the senses we take for granted. I lost track of the times I looked up and though “Woah. I never considered that.” Like how, when going blind, you have to use your current stock of photographic memories as a catalog to refer back to to imagine the world, your loved ones and even yourself as if everyone’s age is sort of frozen in time.
One of my favorites asides was the chapter about how getting to know his recently-adopted dog, Regan, paralleled his own experiences of learning to live in the present and reevaluate what is actually needed to live a full life. Together, they slowly savored their days, one walking trail at a time, discovering the simplest beauty that was right there in Bruni’s backyard the entire time, before life forced him to slow down and bask in it. Being an unabashed dog lover who is constantly in awe of all that animals teach us, I could have read an entire book about this relationship between man and his best friend.
As a New York Times journalist of 25+ years and an esteemed journalism professor at Duke University, Frank Bruni has clearly already proven his writing chops many times over, but I will vouch for his storytelling anyway. The experiences of those he interviewed alongside his own is proof of our resilience that left me feeling hopeful and in awe of human resilience as I closed the book.
As one of his interviewees, esteemed Judge David Tatel who happens to be blind, put it, “Starfish regrow limbs. But that’s nothing compared to what humans do.”
Disclosure: I received an ARC of this book as part of a Goodreads giveaway (and am so thankful for that!).
June 5, 2022
This book was a gift from a a good friend. It was not on my radar; Bruni was a writer with whom I was unfamiliar. My friend told me it was a good read and that he was someone I would appreciate. She was certainly correct. The book centers around his loss of sight in one eye as the result of a stroke. The resulting tests, uncertainty, and fears all were related to us. But it moves past that. Bruni progressed into the phase of acceptance as well as an appreciation for the things he did have. This is always wonderful advice, but it can be somewhat unlivable. I think of the scene from Our Town where the dead Emily Webb asks to go back to the living for one day and, granted that wish, she chooses a birthday. It is not a pleasant experience for she realizes that we are too busy rushing through life to notice and appreciate each other as well as the things around us. Bruni encourages us (through his own experience) to do just that. He also touches on the issue of aging and realizing (maybe even relishing the fact) that certain things aren't in our wheelhouse anymore. With an impending birthday (and faced with assorted health challenges), this was good to read and internalize. But, more importantly, because we are older doesn't mean we are through living or through experiencing life in whatever ways we are able. This life-affirming sentiment came to me at a perfect time. This is not a "Pollyanna" tome. Bruni presents the challenges and self-doubt he faced. But his decision to "keep going" is inspiring.
August 16, 2022
I wasn’t expecting to enjoy this book as much as I did but WOW. Frank Bruni does a fantastic job talking about his possibility of going blind in an uplifting and humorous way
May 30, 2024
Having read one of Bruni’s previous books on the college admissions process several years ago, appreciating his NYT columns and undergoing some life changing trauma myself recently (although not of the physical health kind), I was drawn to this book and I was not disappointed. Bruni writes in a fluent, easy to read and digest style and I appreciate his honesty and openness about his personal struggles and complications. I took a lot away from this book and will probably read it again (I purchased a copy) as it contains many interesting stories and uplifting messages. What I would have appreciated are footnotes and a bibliography as he quotes from books and studies and the like and it would be super helpful to have these listed at the back of the book.
June 8, 2023
Really lovely.
A few favorite passages:
"There's no age limit on the idea—the reality—that we have second selves and probably third and fourth selves to rescue us when our first selves are compromised or killed off; or that life is such a cornucopia of choices and possibilities that to be denied some is to be nudged toward others."
"This was a moment. Intimate and exquisite. Into the storehouse of keepsakes it went. Put enough of them there and you build a powerful shield against despair."
"And you needed to hold tight to moments like the one dad and I were having just then. The glory of that ride wasn't just that I was happy, but that I recognized that happiness, properly labeled it, lingered over it, and committed it to memory so that it was a kind of keepsake that I could dust off and ponder anew when necessary."
A few favorite passages:
"There's no age limit on the idea—the reality—that we have second selves and probably third and fourth selves to rescue us when our first selves are compromised or killed off; or that life is such a cornucopia of choices and possibilities that to be denied some is to be nudged toward others."
"This was a moment. Intimate and exquisite. Into the storehouse of keepsakes it went. Put enough of them there and you build a powerful shield against despair."
"And you needed to hold tight to moments like the one dad and I were having just then. The glory of that ride wasn't just that I was happy, but that I recognized that happiness, properly labeled it, lingered over it, and committed it to memory so that it was a kind of keepsake that I could dust off and ponder anew when necessary."
February 16, 2023
A great introspective reflection on blindness, disability, and aging.
March 29, 2023
A very nice book about choosing positivity in life. Not sappy or cheesy.
March 14, 2023
Book group. What could have been a valid memoir about journalist Frank Bruni suddenly losing much of his eyesight is that and so much more. I appreciated his reframing of challenging circumstances and the thread of how to be happy that runs through the book.
November 29, 2022
This book came along at a perfect time. When I needed the reminder that being positive, working through obstacles and being grateful are what get us through tough times. I feel like I need to read it again because I’m sure I missed lots.
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