Why we seek out sad music, even when it makes us cry
Bittersweet feelings come from the gap between the ideal and reality, says author Susan Cain
The author of Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking has published a new book titled Bittersweet: How Sorrow and Longing Make Us Whole.
But the examination of life's sorrows began when she found herself absorbed by the work of Leonard Cohen. Cohen's ability to mix both sorrow and beauty always moved Cain.
But the bittersweet triggers for everyone are different, she said.
"When we see something that puts us in mind of the gap between that perfect ideal and the actual reality that creates a state in us that theologians sometimes call the holy tears," Cain said.
"And they're holy because of the tears that we experience when we're deeply connected with what could be — with everything that's possible."
Susan Cain talked to Tapestry host Mary Hynes about the power of longing, and why, despite our aversion to sorrow, we seek out sad music.
When did "longing" start calling your name as something that's really worth thinking about?
Well, longing, bittersweetness, all of it — it's been calling my name all my life. But as is so often the case with these things, I couldn't quite figure out the vocabulary for it. For such a long time, it was really only once I started researching this book Bittersweet that I realized that there was a whole tradition of artists, writers, poets, musicians, theologians, [and] all the world's religions really, have been talking about this state of mind. Giving it different names, through the centuries through the cultures, but they're all talking about it.
It's the state of mind where you are very aware of the difference between the perfect and beautiful world that we all long for [...] and the actual world that we live in. There's something about inhabiting that state of mind — of being aware of that gap — that also puts you a little bit closer to the state that you long for. So you kind of keep on seeing it just around the corner. And it's one of the best things that can ever happen to you.
I find this idea of yours really poetic, what this longing is for. You have the sense that when we do feel in touch with this kind of longing, this kind of bittersweet state, that we're reaching out to a better world. This sounds like such a spiritual idea. Is that the way you mean it?
Well, it's funny that you ask that question, because it is now the way I mean it. But when I first started writing and researching the book and thinking about this, I had no idea that this was a spiritual question. I've always thought of myself as an agnostic, bordering on atheist. And yet, having had these kinds of experiences that we're now talking about over and over again through my life, I never really knew what they were. And I'm now realizing that when I set out to read spiritual poets and theologians and so on, that the state of mind that they were describing, is the exact same state that I've been trying to figure out my whole life that for me is activated when I hear certain types of music.
I think for everybody, the portal is a little bit different. But we all recognize it, because it is the essence of human DNA. [...] We come into this world in tears, but also primed for love. And the tears are like a state of mind in which you enter knowing you have been torn away from the place that you want it to be. But it's always possible and it's always there for you.
Tell me about a time when the portal has been activated for you whether it's been through sad music or something else. Can you think of a moment where you were mightily in touch with something sublime?
It happens to me all the time when I hear sad and beautiful music. And it's really important to see both those words: sad and beautiful. Because it's not sadness itself that's activating for all the millions of people out there who love sad music the way people do. This is something that philosophers and now neuroscientists have been studying for ages. Why would anybody listen to something sad voluntarily? Because no one wants to be sad, including me.
I believe the thing people have been overlooking all this time in asking that question — and people have asked it all the way dating back to Aristotle — is it's not sadness that we want. It's sadness and its beauty. [...]
When we see something that puts us in mind of the gap between that perfect ideal and the actual reality that creates a state in us that theologians sometimes call the holy tears. And they're holy because of the tears that we experience when we're deeply connected with what could be — with everything that's possible. So for me, it happens all the time when I hear sad and beautiful music, especially if I listened to it late at night. 95 per cent of the time, I'm gonna go into that state.
Is there a go-to song or a go-to artist to take you there?
For me, it's Leonard Cohen, my lifelong love since I was introduced to his music in my 20s. I just instantly fell in love with him. And I didn't really understand what it was that he spoke to but now I know that it was this. When I found out later that so much of his music and his thinking was informed by the Kabbalah and I started looking into that more. It made so much sense.
There's this idea in the Kabbalah, which is the Jewish form of mysticism, that all of creation originally was kind of intact and divine vessel, which then shattered, and that the world that we're living in now is the world after the shattering. So you can still look around and look down and find pieces of the divine shards from that vessel, and you can still bend down and pick them up. I find this to be so incredibly illuminating because, first of all, it's giving us validation for the perception that we all have that, "Wow, the world is disappointing sometimes." It contains all this violence and conflict and sorrow and loss. But then it also contains such incredible joy and beauty that you kind of can't believe it. You sometimes feel guilty tuning into the joy and beauty alongside the loss and the violence and all the rest.
Just on a practical level, you're not going to be any good to anybody if you're only attune to the darkness, right?- Susan Cain
This image of the shards of glass, I think, allows us to live with our best selves in that kind of a world because it's telling us,"Yes, what you see is true. The perceptions of the things that disappoint you are true. But also you can live your life in such a way that you bend down and pick up the shards that you personally notice. And everyone is going to notice different ones."
That's the best way to live that I've ever come up with.
I'm really glad you mentioned the guilt that can come along with concentrating on the joy and the beauty because it sometimes does feel as though you're not going to be a fully participating citizen of the human race in the 21st century, unless you are [fully] absorbed by all the pain and by all the suffering. So how do you make the case that you can let go of the guilt if you're spending a little time with joy and beauty?
Just on a practical level, you're not going to be any good to anybody if you're only attune to the darkness, right? And the sorrow and the violence — that's not what's going to motivate us to be our best selves and create our best selves. We have to be aware of those things because those things can help us to connect with each other. They also give rise to incredible creativity. But you're not really doing any good if all you're doing is looking at only one side of the glass.
Maybe the best way to say it is just the real goal is to tell the truth and to see the truth as best as we can. And it's just truthful to say that the world is sometimes really disappointing, and the world is sometimes unbearably beautiful. Those things are true at the same time. And that's really what bittersweet-ness is about — the holding of those two truths together.
Interview produced by Sameer Chhabra. Article written by Arman Aghbali.