Library Journal - Audio
06/01/2022
New York Times columnist, author, and Duke professor Bruni (Where You Go Is Not Who You'll Be) narrates this work, bringing a sense of immediacy and intimacy to a revelatory odyssey that is itself an interrogation of the medical, spiritual, and emotional process by which he deals with the loss of sight. In a conversational, straightforward voice, Bruni describes ischemic optic neuropathy, a rare kind of stroke, that destroyed the vision in his right eye. He illuminates how he comes to process the feelings and adjustments he has had to make: problems in reading print or a computer screen, driving only during the day, the departure of his partner, and the realization that the other eye could succumb too. He takes inspiration from others who have overcome adversity, describing their efforts in terms that can suggest a self-help style of positive thinking, which may annoy some listeners. VERDICT This book is recommended to those curious about the spectrum of vision loss that goes far beyond the stereotypes, to lovers of memoir, to libraries wanting to enrich their collection of blindness-related materials, and to loyal Bruni fans curious about how he learns to navigate the world.—David Faucheux
MARCH 2022 - AudioFile
Frank Bruni narrates his audiobook in a tone of calm wisdom. Bruni, a columnist and critic for the NEW YORK TIMES, became partially blind after a stroke. At first in denial, he experienced the medical establishment's struggle to conclude what exactly happened. Along the way, he adapted to his new reality. In one scene, Bruni describes not being able to secure consistent support to fly with the medical equipment he needed, despite his best efforts. Bruni expands the story to reflect on the nature of aging and the value of knowledge and wisdom as one grows older. "We have very few options. We either go forward, or we don't." Throughout, listeners will find themselves enveloped by Bruni's hopeful tone. S.P.C. © AudioFile 2022, Portland, Maine
Publishers Weekly
11/29/2021
New York Times columnist Bruni (Where You Go Is Not Who You’ll Be) imparts in this generous memoir the wisdom he learned after he began to lose his eyesight. One morning in October 2017, Bruni woke up with blurry vision, only to later discover that a stroke had destroyed the optic nerve in one of his eyes, leaving the other eye vulnerable to a similar fate and Bruni at risk of total blindness. “t made me tremble, tested me and forced me to see in a new way,” he writes. Coming to terms with his new reality, Bruni delves into the emotional, psychological, and social tolls of losing his eyesight, while musing on the experience of aging, connecting his story to the way Joe Biden’s age was discussed when he was running for president. Despite being widely considered as past his “prime,” Bruni argues that the septuagenarian candidate “defied the naysayers”: “what Biden lacked in zip, he made up for in zen.” It’s a compassionate take on growing older that, when combined with sanguine insights on living with compromised vision, illustrates Bruni’s knack for writing about the unpredictable beauty of the human condition. Smartly mixing memoir and cultural criticism, this movingly speaks to an entire generation. Agent: Amanda Urban, ICM. (Mar.)
From the Publisher
The Beauty of Dusk isn’t the sad story of a man who lost his sight; it is the generous narrative of a student who sought wisdom when trials appeared in his life. . . . The volume curates an extraordinary collection of miniature profiles in courage and perseverance—a college friend with Parkinson’s, a blind Rhodes scholar turned lieutenant governor and many more. As Bruni walks alongside those who have heard the unwanted news, suffered the terrifying and somehow found intimacy, purpose and joy, he metabolizes his own loss into a muscular wisdom. . . . There is mental and physical agony in this life, and Bruni does not judge anyone’s decisions; rather, he grieves the losses and appreciates the grace. . . . Bruni persuades us to adapt out of loss. To do this, he relies on his writing weapons: He names the issues, asks the knotty questions, then writes toward the truths that the reader may need.” —Min Jin Lee, The New York Times
“Moving and inspiring . . . Readers can discover through this memoir the inner strength to face their inevitable challenges, a renewed understanding of what others would say on their invisible sandwich boards, and a deeper well of compassion and kindness.” —Steven Petrow, The Washington Post
“Frank Bruni is one of my favorite people in the world. . . . Man, he can write . . . The Beauty of Dusk is a positive message, a powerful reminder that with great vulnerability also comes great reward.” —Oprah
“Bruni’s beautifully written, reflective memoir is riveting.” —Good Morning America, Must-Reads for March
“In this eloquent meditation on aging and resilience, journalist Bruni recounts his journey to acceptance after a stroke robbed him of much of his vision in the right eye. Instead of despairing, he sets out to learn how others navigate sight-impaired worlds—and rediscovers the gifts in his own life.” —People
“A book about vision loss that becomes testimony to human courage, a moving memoir that offers perspective, comfort, and hope.” —Booklist (starred review)
“Exquisitely written—smart and funny and a joy to read. I love this book!” —Ina Garten
“[An] affecting, illuminating memoir . . . With compassion and grace, Bruni guides us along a literal pilgrimage between light and darkness, a tender meld of science reporting and philosophical investigation.” —Oprah Daily Most Anticipated Books of 2022
“Weaving together his own story of diminished eyesight with the stories of many other people, Frank Bruni constructs a philosophical narrative of resilience: how we can discover it in ourselves and how we can recognize and support it in others. His writing is lively and intimate, and his message is powerful and lucid.” —Andrew Solomon
“Frank Bruni lost sight in one eye and turned that experience into a life-changing journey of empathy, discovery and renewal. Once again he has enlightened us all.” —Tom Brokaw
“A masterful storyteller. A wonderful book. Honest. Poetic. Uplifting.” —Lesley Stahl
“In this wonderful book, Frank Bruni offers insight and inspiration as he grapples with a daunting medical crisis. Beautifully written and bracing in its honesty, this book rewards its reader with the precious gift of learning how we all may seek resilience and ultimately recreate a meaningful life.” —Jerome Groopman
“Uplifting and beautiful.” —Katie Couric Media
“With the same precise clarity and melodic wit he layers in his New York Times op-eds . . . The Beauty of Dusk transcends memoir. Bruni’s sharing creates a beacon, reminding us that often in life’s cruelties there can be the opportunity to stretch beyond our measure.” —Maria Shriver’s The Sunday Papers newsletter
“A compassionate take on growing older [that] illustrates Bruni’s knack for writing about the unpredictable beauty of the human condition. Smartly mixing memoir and cultural criticism, this movingly speaks to an entire generation.” —Publishers Weekly
“In this memoir, Frank Bruni gives an ultimately hopeful account of his sudden illness and confrontation with mortality ... a welcome reminder, despite the inevitability of dusk in each person's life, of how ‘enriching and beautiful that dusk can be’ when one examines it closely.” —Shelf Awareness
“An uplifting exploration of human potential . . . [A] poignant, often wise look at how nearly everything bad that happens to us can actually be good.” —Kirkus Reviews
Library Journal
02/04/2022
Bruni, an author (Born Round) and New York Times columnist, recounts his experience of waking one morning with vision loss in his right eye. Arriving at a diagnosis for his vision loss took persistence and patience, as Bruni documents here; ultimately it is revealed that he has the condition NAION, which restricts blood flow to the optic nerve. A neuro-ophthalmologist ascertained that he'd had a stroke, which preceded the sudden vision loss. Bruni was forced to engage in daily management of his condition, during which his long-term relationship cratered. Navigating his new reality alone, Bruni describes seeking out other people who have had similar experiences losing one or more of their senses. These include Juan José, a Mexican diplomat rendered blind in his teens from retinitis pigmentosa; instead of his disability hindering his career or life ambitions, he recalibrated, Bruni writes. This is a common theme in Bruni's other interviews in this book and a takeaway that sustains him. He cites Sanjay Gupta's assertion in Keep Sharp, that the human brain is elastic and adaptive throughout its life, always creating new brain cells. VERDICT Although it can sometimes read more like a long column than a memoir, Bruni's optimistic book will be a balm to many. Recommended.—Barrie Olmstead
MARCH 2022 - AudioFile
Frank Bruni narrates his audiobook in a tone of calm wisdom. Bruni, a columnist and critic for the NEW YORK TIMES, became partially blind after a stroke. At first in denial, he experienced the medical establishment's struggle to conclude what exactly happened. Along the way, he adapted to his new reality. In one scene, Bruni describes not being able to secure consistent support to fly with the medical equipment he needed, despite his best efforts. Bruni expands the story to reflect on the nature of aging and the value of knowledge and wisdom as one grows older. "We have very few options. We either go forward, or we don't." Throughout, listeners will find themselves enveloped by Bruni's hopeful tone. S.P.C. © AudioFile 2022, Portland, Maine
Kirkus Reviews
2021-11-23
How losing sight in one eye launched Bruni into an uplifting exploration of human potential.
Bruni, longtime journalist and New York Times restaurant reviewer and op-ed columnist, now a professor at Duke, warns readers to "brace yourself for a boatload of clichés and jump ship if they're going to bother you.” As he notes, greener grass, silver linings, and making lemonade from lemons are just "down-market analogues of insights,” many of which he experienced after a stroke in his sleep left him functionally half blind. Some of his account of how he dealt with this infirmity is intriguing, and some feels like sentimental, self-help happy talk gone off the deep end (a problem that characterized some sections of his previous memoir, Born Round). In one chapter, Bruni uses the suicides of his much-envied colleague Anthony Bourdain (Bruni’s discussion of Bourdain is excellent) and designer Kate Spade to advance his theory of “sandwich boards”: We have no idea what other people are going through; if only we wore signs listing our hidden troubles. Being alert to those sandwich boards and being able to “recast limits" and "reconceptualize loss” are “the overlapping three pillars of perspective,” which is the ultimate saving grace. During the writing process, the author spent time documenting “starfish,” people who discover new abilities after losing others, like a starfish grows back a new arm after losing one—e.g., deaf composers and blind photographers. The author also discovered a little starfish in himself, locating a dropped phone in a thicket in pitch-dark Central Park. Bruni also explores some of the positive sides of aging: Look at Nancy Pelosi and Ruth Bader Ginsburg! Joe Biden, whom Bruni attacked during the campaign as too old, is now revealed as wiser and less awkwardly garrulous.
An uneven but poignant, often wise look at how nearly everything bad that happens to us can actually be good. So cheer up.
