Towards an Art of Sadness

Finding the transformative light of sorrow

Image: ChatGPT, author-generated

Everyone aspires to be happy, and there is an almost endless literature on the topic of how to achieve this longed-for state of mind. Yet as the saying goes in Russian: “Happiness is not a horse. You cannot harness it.” Happiness is mercurial. It comes unbidden, sometimes at the most unexpected times, and abandons us again without warning in the very moment of triumph. Sadness comes on from nowhere, seeping up from the cracks at three a.m., or ambushing us in broad daylight. In its grip we collapse, or struggle. We shut the blinds and wallow in it, or distract ourselves with entertainments, parties, drugs, sex. We cloak ourselves in cynicism or false cheer, or we secretly perform that age-old masculine emotional alchemy, converting sadness into anger, an emotion with the advantage that it can be taken out on someone.

None of this seems healthy: distraction, displacement, repression, self-medication. So the question arises: how should we be sad? What attitude should we take in the face of sorrow? The message we’re often given is that we shouldn’t be sad at all. “Think positive!” is the usual, useless prescription. Or there’s the consumption solution, best embodied in the advice a friend of mine received from a colleague: “When I’m down I usually either eat or buy stuff, but since I’m so fat now I just buy…