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Frank Bruni

 This is (qualified) enthusiasm for Frank Bruni's memoir, "The Beauty of Dusk."


Bruni had a reasonably happy ten-year quasi-marriage and a thriving career when he discovered, one morning, that his vision was newly impaired. Everything seemed "smeary." It emerged that Bruni had a rare condition, involving thin blood vessels--and "smeariness" would now be a constant.

Worse still: The *other* eye could give out at any moment. So Bruni was told to avoid flying, if possible, to drink great quantities of water, to cut back on alcohol. And, in a final twist, Bruni's partner disclosed a long-term affair: Bruni found himself single. (I especially liked the bits about the partner. Bruni can be frustratingly "sunny," so when he becomes enjoyably "cold," in the romance sections, you take note.)

After Bruni's humbling, Bruni became a kind of cheerleader for the aging and/or impaired. There are gifts that come with being partly blind! Your reasoning skills might grow; you might find your hearing skills have changed. There are treats linked with aging! At times, recently, almost no one thought Biden could be President; Biden is now not only President, but also likely a *better* President than what he would have been in 1990, or 2000. People in their fifties and sixties often report that they're happier than they were in their thirties. You can even become a successful travel writer when you have lost your ability to see.

This helped me--to a certain extent. Bruni has a passage where he discusses a difficult procedure--I think it might have involved injecting medicine into his own eye. And Bruni writes trenchantly about the redundancy and even the idiocy built into a standard hospital visit; as someone who has spent a fair amount of time in hospitals, recently, I appreciated the candor and humor in this part of Bruni's book. If you have to stick a needle in your eye, you can complain, or you can decide, I'm going to do this really well. Look, I'm doing this really well. I remembered this idea when Marc and I took our children through a crowded airport; from one angle, the experience was intermittently hellish, but from another angle, everything was a kind of intriguing game. I'm grateful to Bruni, because he gave me the "intriguing game" idea.

I do think this book is a bit short on "plot," and I also think the pie-in-the-sky thesis becomes wearying. Adversity can be ennobling--but, also, adversity can just suck. Bruni has written a self-help book, and that's like a nice slice of pizza; it's a joy, for a few minutes, and then you forget the experience.

So--a mixed bag. I would pick up a sequel, if it ever appears--but I'd read with modest expectations.
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