Bittersweet: How Sorrow and Longing Make Us Whole

“As the youngest child, I mattered so much to her, I mattered too much, I mattered like the sun.”

Susan Cain is referencing her mother in this passage. The metaphor she uses, that Susan mattered to her mother as much as the sun, lays a foundation for the over-zealous and possessive tendencies her mother exhibited as Cain grew into adolescence and young adulthood.

“Remember the linguistic origins of the word yearning: The place you suffer is the place you care. You hurt because you care. Therefore, the best response to pain is to dive deeper into your caring. Which is exactly the opposite of what most of us want to do. We want to avoid pain: to ward off the bitter by not caring quite so much about the sweet.”

As is often the case, Cain draws the reader’s attention to the duality of pleasure and pain. She also suggests that people typically try to avoid confronting that which makes them uneasy, in this case suffering of any sort. Cain sees opportunity for growth when a person confronts their suffering rather than avoiding it or running away from it.

“Upbeat tunes make us want to dance around our kitchens and invite friends for dinner. But it’s sad music that makes us want to touch the sky.”

One of the driving forces of the book, according to Cain, is her attraction to sad music, notably that of the late Leonard Cohen. The reason why some people are drawn to such music has been a question that has followed Cain for a very long time and is in large measure where the idea for the book came from.

“Endings will give way to beginnings just as much as beginnings give way to endings.”

Cain’s assertion here references the transitory nature of all life. Her recognition of this fact is at the same time sad and uplifting. Once again, she points to the dualism inherent in humanity’s conscious awareness of the limitations of existence.

“Our nervous systems make little distinction between our own pain and the pain of others, it turns out; they react similarly to both. This instinct is as much a part of us as the desire to eat and breathe.”

Cain spends time in Chapter 4 probing into the science of sadness and compassion. In particular, she presents research that points to specific areas in the brain where sadness and compassion emanate from, noting that there is an evolutionary justification for why human beings can care about the well-being of others to degrees that other animals are not capable of.

“We are impelled to relieve the sufferings of another […] in order that our own painful feelings may at the same time be relieved.”

Cain quotes Charles Darwin directly here. She spends time discussing Darwin’s own temperament, which she claims was melancholic. Because of the way some of Darwin’s theories were appropriated for nefarious motives, his compassionate legacy is often overlooked or misunderstood. Cain provides a fuller context of Darwin’s beliefs, specifically that his views sometimes align with Buddhist teachings, especially in relation to the inevitability of human suffering.

“Christ dies on the cross, but we focus on the birth and resurrection.”

This quote comes as Cain explores the way American culture specifically values the subordination of grief, especially publicly. Cain points out that the Christian holidays of Christmas and Easter are more celebrated than Christ’s actual death, symbolizing the tendency to not confront death as part of life that she says is emblematic in the United States.

“But the term loser now evoked not empathy but contempt. Loss became a condition to avoid, by relentlessly cultivating the mindset and behaviors of a winner.”

Cain tries to source the American insistence on positivity at all costs with its competitive economic structure. She sees this winning/ losing bifurcation as an explanation for why public displays of grief are not valued in the United States as in other cultures.

“Effortless perfection is also about masking any signs of loss, failure, or melancholia.”

Cain interviews college students at Princeton in this section and she discovers that students there feel pressure to present themselves publicly in a way that reveals no hint of struggle. Those who are perceived as achieving success without having to really try at it are held in high esteem. This is a persona that is created that masks any hint of vulnerability.

“Research on emotional suppression shows that when emotions are pushed aside or ignored, they get stronger.”

This is the consequence to effortless perfection mentioned in the previous quote. Whatever the perceived negative emotion, when it is brushed aside, rather than accepted, the emotion will grow stronger, which can cause greater challenges in the long run.

“We’re often taught to focus on our strengths, not weaknesses. But we shouldn’t confuse a bittersweet temperament, or a ‘negative’ emotional state such as sadness, with weakness.”

Cain returns to the idea that American culture tends to value outward displays of strength. Here, she argues against the idea, and makes the case that displays of sadness are not displays of weakness. In some ways, expressed sadness is more authentic than a contrived, forced appearance of happiness.

“But the terrible beauty of transience is much greater than we are. In our best moments, especially in the presence of sublime music, art, and nature, we grasp the tragic majesty of it. The rest of the time, we simply have to live it.”

In Cain’s estimation, much of our lives are spent unaware of its transient nature; therefore, we miss opportunities for accessing the beauty of it. This is the source of melancholy, as Cain sees it, and rather than avoid it, she sees value in immersing oneself in it.

“Even if our limbs were metallic and unbreakable, and our souls uploaded to a hard drive in the sky, even if we colonized a galaxy of hospitable planets as glorious as Earth, even then we would face disappointment and heartbreak, strife and separation. And these are conditions for which a deathless existence has no remedy.”

This is Cain’s refutation against the immortalist longing to live forever. The predominant optimism of the immortalist view is untenable, in Cain’s estimation, and is inadequate. The promise of immortality cannot dissolve suffering.

“Poignancy, she told me, is the richest feeling humans experience, one that gives meaning to life—and it happens when you feel happy and sad at the same time.”

Cain is referring to a comment made to her by Dr. Laura Carstensen, a psychologist and professor at Stanford. Carstensen’s comment here validates much of what Cain argues in the book, that to get true meaning out of life, one should seek moments where they feel poignant and fill their lives with them. Rather than dismiss sadness in an all-consuming quest to experience happiness, people should value these bittersweet moments more.

“And there it is again: the oldest problem, the deepest dream- the pain of separation, the desire for reunion. That’s the nub of human heartache and desire, regardless of your religion, birth country, personality.”

Cain insists that this longing for reunion is universal and therefore unites all humans. The quote comes as she is discussing bereavement, and loss is at the heart of the sentiment she expresses here, and which is at the heart of all life.

“Two hundred years ago, Issa taught that we should be aware of impermanence- we should notice how ephemeral the dewdrops are—but we shouldn’t pretend that grief disappears. No matter how much your culture tells you to smile, it’s not human to simply move on.”

Cain begins this chapter analyzing a haiku written by Issa, and here she returns to it as she closes the chapter. Again, in her interpretation of the poem, there is a clear distinction she sees as its central message; awareness of impermanence is not an antidote to grief. When loss comes, one should recognize that it is unavoidable, but should also allow themselves to feel that loss.

“Not only can pain last a lifetime; it can last many lifetimes.”

Cain explores the premise that people inherit the pain of their ancestors and that it is coded in the genes. For people with a melancholy disposition, Cain provides evidence in the chapter that perhaps part of what explains this disposition is that the person’s genes have been affected by previous generational trauma.

“Meaning making, he believed, is the heart of humanity; it gives us the power to transcend suffering.”

The person Cain refers to in the passage is Dr. William Breitbart, whose interview provides a further probe into the nature of grief. As someone who works with patients with terminal illnesses, Breitbart’s insight is significant and shows that even as people face imminent death, their lives still have meaning. Once the sense of meaning is lost, Breitbart sees it as his duty to help the person rediscover it and make sense of their death.

“It so happens that very few people grow from success. People grow from failure. They grow from adversity. They grow from pain.”

This is spoken by William Breitbart and illustrates a main idea of the book. Not only is pain, suffering, and sorrow part of life, it is necessary for growth to take place. Cain argues that rather than avoid sorrow, one should see it as an opportunity for growth. 

“But on their behalf and ours, we can follow the bittersweet tradition, and transform their troubles into something better.”

Cain discusses the possibility that the pain of previous generations can manifest itself in current generations. However, Cain also contends that while pain can last across generations, one can also take active measures to heal the legacy of that trauma.

“We all think what we think, feel what we feel, are who we are, because of the lives of the people who came before us, and the way our souls have interacted with theirs. Yet these are also our own, singular lives. We have to hold both these truths at the same time.”

Cain points out the apparent paradox evident in the chapter, namely that while pain can be inherited, people are their own individuals as well. Therefore, people have agency to both recognize how the past informs the present while simultaneously taking active measures to heal it and live their own lives independent of generational trauma.

“So. What if I asked you this same question: What are you longing for?”

This is an example of the direct address Cain employs in the Coda of the book and which is the first in a series of questions she asks of the reader. By asking questions such as these, Cain forces the reader to consider how they process and deal with sadness, melancholy, and longing in their own lives.

“Glimpses of this elusive place are everywhere, not only in our love affairs but also when we kiss our children good night, when we shiver with delight at the strum of a guitar, when we read a golden truth expressed by an author who died a thousand years before we were born.”

Cain is speaking about the perfect and beautiful world. Cain says that it is elusive, and it must be. However, there are many ways where people can at least temporarily immerse themselves in it, and in Cain’s view, we should seek these out consistently. The melancholy we might sense after catching these glimpses of the perfect world is a source of beauty that can inspire people and help provide meaning to their lives.