Bittersweet: How Sorrow and Longing Make Us Whole

A brief sketch of the late writer and musician Leonard Cohen begins this chapter. Cohen, known for his beautiful and often sad music, was a pensive person in tune with his emotions, which, in Cain’s view, he masterfully represented in his art. Cain then launches an investigation in which she explores connections between creativity and sadness. She details a few studies that indicate there is indeed some connection and probes into the data that support this position. Cain then transitions into another brief anecdote, this one involving the legendary composer Beethoven. As he composed his famous piece, “Ode to Joy,” Beethoven had been struggling with personal difficulties, including becoming deaf. He composed the work from memory, and when it premiered, he was unable to hear the audience’s emphatic and teary applause. Cain mentions that while there is only one Beethoven, people should still strive to unlock their own creativity, even if that means simply interacting with the art of someone else. She mentions that during the COVID-19 pandemic, she found herself mindlessly “doomscrolling” Twitter. Unhappy with how this made her feel, Cain decided to start posting art, which had an immediate and lasting positive impact on her overall mood. She suggests that when one is feeling pain and can’t shake it, they should either create something or immerse themselves in others’ experiences through art. She then asks the reader to consider why an artist matters and to consider the deeper implications for how that artist moves people.

Cain returns to Leonard Cohen and describes her appreciation for his music and writing. She mentions that she has always been drawn to Cohen’s music but never really understood why. After Cohen’s death, his son Adam staged a concert in his memory in Montreal. At the urging of her husband, Cain flew to Montreal to attend the concert. She had been reluctant at first, and through much of the show, she felt bored and defensive because the performers were simply not Cohen. This was until she heard Damien Rice perform a notoriously gloomy song titled “Famous Blue Raincoat.” Cain was moved by the rendition and now becomes emotional every time she recalls the experience, even more sad that Leonard Cohen is no longer alive. To discover why she is so moved when she thinks of this song and Cohen’s life, she investigates more about Cohen as an artist. She notices that much of his worldview was influenced by the branch of Judaism known as Kabbalah. Cohen saw his art as liturgy, and his mission was to piece together fragments of light despite the darkness that fills life. This is the aspect of his music that Cain says she most identifies with and why it speaks to her on such a deeply personal level.

Cain introduces David Yaden, a professor and psychiatrist who has made a life’s work out of studying the kinds of experiences Cain describes having while attending the Cohen tribute concert. Cain interviews Yaden, hoping to gain some explanation for the feelings she has in the aftermath of the concert and learns the reason why Yaden has devoted his career to the study of “Self-Transcending Experience” (STE). Yaden himself experienced a significant and inexplicable moment of euphoria while he was in college and decided to pursue the reasons why it happened. He remains convinced that the reasons why people have these transformative experiences are connected with periods of change and death. Cain describes how cultures have evolved to develop traditions on periods of transformation, such as from youth to adulthood. Cultures also have developed ways of commemorating changes in the seasons. Cain also points to a study that finds those who have terminal illnesses or who are on death row have a much more positive outlook on life and death than those who are not. As an example of the impact transitions and death can have on euphoric or “self-transcendent experiences” (103), Cain presents a letter that Leonard Cohen wrote to his one-time lover, Marianne Ihlen, while both had terminal illnesses. The letter sadly recognizes imminent death but also expresses heartfelt gratitude.

Cain closes the chapter by introducing her friend, a former violin prodigy named Min Kym, who had accompanied Cain onstage during a TED Talk in 2019 and played the violin prior to and after Cain’s presentation on much of the thematic content of this book. When Min turned 21, she was given a rare and vintage 300-year-old Stradivarius violin. She quickly became enamored with the instrument. Min recognizes that many would see this as a simple obsession, but her feelings toward the instrument are so intense that it is more than deep respect for a well-crafted violin to her. One day, while at a cafe in London, her precious violin was stolen. She went into a deep state of depression as a result. She had lost her motivation and felt as though part of her was also stolen. Eventually, authorities found the violin and it was reclaimed, though Min could not afford the millions it cost to repossess it. While in a deep state of despair, Min decided to write a book about the experience, one which Cain read. They soon became good friends, and Min’s story provides support that sometimes when one is affected by circumstances, they can piece themselves back together again in new and unforeseen ways. Min’s performance during Cain’s TED Talk moved the audience to tears and illustrates perfectly exactly what Cain had been discussing about the nature of melancholy.