“Bittersweet: How Sorrow and Longing Make Us Whole” by Susan Caine

review by Meredith McKinnie

“The young delude themselves that the music will never stop playing. So it makes sense for them to explore rather than savor; to meet new people rather than to devote time to their nearest and dearest; to learn new skills and soak up information, rather than ponder the meaning of it all; to focus on the future rather than to remain in the present.”

Ever notice the rejuvenating effects of a good cry, or how you linger in sadness for the profound realizations that manifest? In “Bittersweet,” Susan Cain explores the often-unexplored value in the bittersweets, one of the four Hippocratic temperaments alongside the happy, the aggressive, and the calm. Cain notes that the ideal human possesses traits of all four, but often one temperament is most prominent. One of the most interesting parts of Cain’s observations is the clash between one’s temperament and one’s place in the world. In America, we value the happy and the aggressive, rewarding such behaviors socially, economically, and personally. Strength and smiles reign supreme in American culture. Cain notes that existing in spaces where one’s temperament is not prioritized or understood can leave the bittersweets relegated to the background.

In the Introduction, Cain presents a quiz, developed alongside research scientists, to determine one’s inclination to bittersweetness. The questions posed include whether one has been called an “old soul,” or whether one finds comfort in a rainy day, or if one often sees both happiness and sadness at once. While the chapters describe the state of the bittersweet and what to do with it, Cain also advises those of other temperaments to lean into the bittersweet, as “we’re built to live simultaneously in love and loss, bitter and sweet.” She claims that in sadness and hardship, we find inspiration. It reminds me of that saying, something about grief being unexpressed love.

Cain explores themes of loss, creativity, positivity, the inevitability of death, and grief. She insists that “Longing itself is a creative and spiritual state,” that “It’s urgent to live enchanted.” This book felt like a warm blanket – of course, I am an academic navigating my way through grief. As Cain is popular on the TED Talk circuit, she references other motivational speakers and cultural critics than illuminated this ideology around bittersweetness. At times, some of Cain’s deep dives felt a bit too deep, but Cain just as quickly would pull it back with a personal anecdote, a nod to a bevy of readers of all different mindsets. At the core, Cain’s curiosity reigns supreme, and she intends, or so I believe, for readers to tap into a readily-available resource that we all possess, though might be tempted to suppress. 

“Our difficulty accepting impermanence is the heart of human suffering.”