“My delight grows—much like love and joy—when I share it.”
As heard on NPR's "This American Life."
Ross Gay, one of today’s most original, dynamic and respected literary voices, spent a year writing daily essays about things that delighted him. Some as short as a paragraph; some as long as five pages. They record the small joys that occurred in one tumultuous year, the small joys we often overlook in our busy lives. They remind us of the purpose and pleasure of praising, extolling, and celebrating ordinary wonders.
Ross’s meditation on delight takes a clear-eyed view of the complexities, even the terrors, in his life, including living in America as a black man; the ecological and psychic violence of our consumer culture; the loss of those he loves. This is not a book of how-to or inspiration. The Book of Delights
is about our connection to the world, to each other, and the rewards that come from a life closely observed.
Among Gay’s funny, poetic, philosophical delights: the way Botan Rice Candy wrappers melt in your mouth, the volunteer crossing guard with a pronounced tremor whom he imagines as a kind
of boat-woman escorting pedestrians across the River Styx, a friend’s unabashed use of air quotes, pickup basketball games, the silent nod of acknowledgment between black people. And more than any other subject, Gay celebrates the beauty of the natural world—his garden, the flowers in the sidewalk, the birds, the bees, the mushrooms, the trees.
Ross’s “essayettes” serve as a powerful and necessary reminder that we can, and should, stake out a space in our lives for delight.
Ross Gay is the author of three books of poetry,
including Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude, winner of the 2015 National Book Critics Circle Award and the 2016 Kingsley Tufts Poetry Award. Catalog was also a finalist for the 2015 National Book Award in Poetry, the Ohioana Book Award, the Balcones Poetry Prize, the Hurston/Wright Legacy Award, and was nominated for an NAACP Image Award. He is a founding editor, with Karissa Chen and Patrick Rosal, of the online sports magazine Some Call It Ballin’ and founding board member of the Bloomington Community Orchard, a nonprofit, free-fruit-for-all food justice and joy project. Gay has received fellowships from the Cave Canem Foundation, the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference, and the Guggenheim Foundation. He teaches at Indiana University.
See Ross read in person. Check out his event schedule.
"The Marfa Lights"
My buddy Pat and I went to shoot around at the courts here in Marfa today. We were warming up, shooting twelve-footers or doing slow spin moves and crossovers, when a young guy from the other side of the court (where the rim had a net) swaggered toward us, holding a ball on his hip, the light gleaming in his earrings, and challenged us to a two on two, pointing his thumb to himself and back to his buddy draining threes from the corner. We agreed, and went on to kick the shit out of them, 21-0. That is a horrible figure of speech, and I leave it in only to expose the violence we easily speak. We got more baskets than they did. That they were only twelve years old is irrelevant, given as this was their home court, and they even had a crowd watching, another little girl who, when one of the kids shouted to the gods, "They're kicking our butts!" said, "I hope so. They're grown men."
"Tomato on Board"
What you don't know until you carry a tomato seedling through the airport and onto a plane, is that carrying a tomato seedling through the airport and onto a plane will make people smile at you almost like you're carrying a baby. A quiet baby. I did not know this until today, carrying my little tomato, about three or four inches high in its four-inch plastic starter pot, which my friend Michael gave to me, smirking about how I was going to get it home. Something about this, at first, felt naughty—not comparing a tomato to a baby, but carrying the tomato onto the plane—and so I slid the thing into my bag while going through security, which made them pull the bag for inspection. When the security guy saw it was a tomato he smiled and said, "I don't know how to check that. Have a good day." But I quickly realized that one of its stems (which I almost wrote as "arms") was broken from the jostling, and it only had four of them, so I decided I better just carry it out in the open. And the shower of love began. . .
Before boarding the final leg of my flight, one of the workers said, "Nice tomato," which I don't think was a come on. And the flight attendant asked about the tomato at least five times, not an exaggeration, every time calling it "my tomato," —Where's my tomato? How's my tomato? You didn't lose my tomato, did you? She even directed me to an open seat in the exit row—Why don't you guys go sit there and stretch out? I gathered my things and set the lil guy in the window seat so he could look out. When I got my water I poured some into the lil guy's soil. When we got bumpy I put my hand on the lil guy's container, careful not to snap another arm off. And when we landed, and the pilot put the brakes on hard, my arm reflexively went across the seat, holding the lil guy in place, the way my dad's arm would when he had to brake hard in that car without seatbelts to speak of, in one of my very favorite gestures in the encyclopedia of human gestures.
“Reading The Book of Delights, I’ve tried to limit myself to one “delight” a day. But Ross Gay’s inspirational poetic meditations on the wonder and magic of daily life are too addictive and necessary – I find myself devouring the book and rereading my favorites.”
“Ross Gay’s eye lands upon wonder at every turn, bolstering my belief in the countless small miracles that surround us.”
“Ross Gay’s The Book of Delights reminds us of the wisdom of old songs: What a difference a day makes. This is a glimpse into a year of an artist’s life, dazzling with wit, wisdom and heart.”
“What I love most about these delights is how Ross Gay is able to use as little language as possible to populate a world where his memories are your memories, intertwined, reaching out of the pages. There is, indeed, a great pleasure to be unearthed.”
“The Book of Delights is a joy explosion . . . There is no other book on the planet I’d rather read right now, no other writing that can make me believe in the future—and us—again.”
“Ross Gay is a writer perfectly suited to find delight. His eye is so brilliant, it seems to glow from within. When I need hope, I turn to his words. And this collection will remind you how beautiful it is to be alive.”
“The most beautiful thing about this book is the way it insists that delight is serious business, and that love can be our teacher, and that if we pay strict and openhearted attention we can learn. Ross Gay is a secular blessing, a possibility-expander; his work is a free box of realizable light.”
“Ross Gay is back to remind us, in a voice raspily festooned with bank shots and flowers and candy and garlands of diamond-sharp sanctities, that delight is always lit from within. This is an illuminating and necessary meditation that unravels masculinity, race, tenderness, strength . . . all that is extraordinary yet hidden between the ordinary creases of life.”
“Ross Gay is truly a free black man. His liberated words open our minds and hearts to speak.”
“What I love most about this book, and what I love about so much of Ross Gay’s work, is that it gently nudges us to take note of those small things that might otherwise elude our attention. I am indebted to this book for reminding me, reminding us, that there is so much to celebrate in the world. It is not that we should ignore the moments that are painful, but that should we hold those small moments of joy alongside them.”
“Each essay in Ross Gay's collection is a gem, depicting the fruits of mindfulness, of intensely living in and gazing at the present moments of life. Reading The Book of Delights brings you right to our profound connection to the world and to each other.”