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Insomniac City: New York, Oliver, and Me
Goodreads Choice Award
Nominee for Best Memoir & Autobiography (2017)Bill Hayes came to New York City in 2009 with a one-way ticket and only the vaguest idea of how he would get by. But, at forty-eight years old, having spent decades in San Francisco, he craved change. Grieving over the death of his partner, he quickly discovered the profound consolations of the city's incessant rhythms, the sight of the Empire State Building against the night sky, and New Yorkers themselves, kindred souls that Hayes, a lifelong insomniac, encountered on late-night strolls with his camera.
And he unexpectedly fell in love again, with his friend and neighbor, the writer and neurologist Oliver Sacks, whose exuberance--"I don't so much fear death as I do wasting life," he tells Hayes early on--is captured in vignettes throughout. What emerges is a portrait of Sacks at his most personal and endearing, from falling in love for the first time at age seventy-five to facing illness and death (Sacks died of cancer in August 2015).
And he unexpectedly fell in love again, with his friend and neighbor, the writer and neurologist Oliver Sacks, whose exuberance--"I don't so much fear death as I do wasting life," he tells Hayes early on--is captured in vignettes throughout. What emerges is a portrait of Sacks at his most personal and endearing, from falling in love for the first time at age seventy-five to facing illness and death (Sacks died of cancer in August 2015).
294 pages, Hardcover
First published February 14, 2017
About the author
Bill Hayes
27 books426 followersThe recipient of a Guggenheim Fellowship in nonfiction, Bill Hayes is a frequent contributor to the New York Times and the author of several books.
A photographer as well as a writer, his photos have appeared in The New Yorker, Vanity Fair, Granta, New York Times, and on CBS Evening News. His portraits of his partner, the late Oliver Sacks, appear in the recent collection of Dr. Sacks’s suite of final essays Gratitude.
Hayes has been a Visiting Scholar at the American Academy in Rome, the recipient of a Leon Levy Foundation grant, and a Resident Writer at Blue Mountain Center. He has also served as a guest lecturer at Stanford, NYU, UCSF, University of Virginia, and the New York Academy of Medicine.
A photographer as well as a writer, his photos have appeared in The New Yorker, Vanity Fair, Granta, New York Times, and on CBS Evening News. His portraits of his partner, the late Oliver Sacks, appear in the recent collection of Dr. Sacks’s suite of final essays Gratitude.
Hayes has been a Visiting Scholar at the American Academy in Rome, the recipient of a Leon Levy Foundation grant, and a Resident Writer at Blue Mountain Center. He has also served as a guest lecturer at Stanford, NYU, UCSF, University of Virginia, and the New York Academy of Medicine.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,090 reviews
February 14, 2017
One of the most moving and beautiful works of nonfiction I've read in some time, Insomniac City is a highly unique mini memoir and portrait of two great loves of Bill Hayes' life: Oliver Sacks and New York City. And though so much will break your heart, it will ache with gladness too, for Hayes writes, sees, feels, appreciates the simple and complex beauty of human life, and articulately of the mesmerizing urban jungle that is New York, and his book is a celebration of love. Love that can unite people and bring people together, from small interactions in a skateboard park to the deep, soul touching love Bill and O experience together. It's so well written, and yet also incredibly raw, delighting and saddening me in alternating states. It's really more of a collection of ideas, feelings, journal entries, thoughts of Bill Hayes than anything, but the book seems to be a written embodiment of his own state, so it feels extremely authentic and I never felt lost or confused as we jumped in time, space and medium.
"Wouldn't it be nice if there were a planet where the sound of rain falling is like Bach?"
Oliver Sacks is the immediate draw, a brilliant man but not overly well-known in a personal way by most who "disappeared" (Hayes' verb of choice in lieu of "passed away") too soon by anyone's reckoning since the fate of man is inevitable, but always too soon. The depth of feeling pervades for me even a week after reading it, and how charmed I was by these two incredible individuals finding each other in the universe, and getting such an intimate look into the mind of Oliver Sacks. His intelligence, whimsy, and tenderness jump off the page in such beautiful moments and anecdotes as Hayes gives us unparalleled access to their love.
I: "What else can I do for you?"
O: "Exist."
Just before midnight, I taught O how to open a bottle of champagne, something he had never done before: sweet to see the joy and surprise and fear on his face as - pop! - the cork exploded. He had insisted on wearing his swimming goggles, though, just in case.
It's also a book that will call to those from New York, living in New York, or dreaming of New York. Hayes too dreamed of moving to the city, and though he's honest about its detriments and less glamorous nature, it's such a deep, full throated embrace of the city and its people across all walks of life. Throughout the memoir, Hayes' photography illustrates his life with Oliver, but also New York's glamorous buildings and unknown inhabitants, and Hayes candidly and otherwise captures beautiful human moments of strangers, acquaintances, friends, and lovers. I got the feeling that I would feel incredibly lucky and serendipitous to have an interaction with Bill Hayes on the subway, one of those nice, hey why don't I talk to strangers more often, wow that guy is amazing kind of moments that I don't have as often as I should. Hayes shows us New York, not in a new way but in so much love with this city, warts and all, that I've been more open to a random moment in the shuffle, keeping my headphones off, looking up with a smile.
I remember how Wendy once told me she loved New York so much she couldn't bear the thought of it going on without her. It seemed like both the saddest and the most romantic thing one could possibly say - sad because New York can never return the sentiment, and sad because it's the kind of thing said more often about a romantic love - husband, wife, girlfriend, partner, lover. You can't imagine them going on without you. But they do. We do. Every day, we may wake up and say, What's the point? Why go on? And, there is really only one answer: To be alive.
And its specific tale is no less beautiful or important than the larger takeaway for me of a full embrace of one's life and everything in it, understanding the limits of time imposed on us and appreciating the magic high and mundane that life is while we're here to live it. Ultimately it urges you to reconsider with fresh eyes the world you inhabit, see it for all its attributes good and bad, reach out to its inhabitants also orbiting in similar spaces and revel in the power of human connection, whether simple and small or life changing and grandiose, or both at the same time, a worthy idea in an age fueled by the internet that can make it easier and paradoxically harder to truly connect.
I can't fully put into words how meaningful a read this was for me, and I can only recommend it to everyone I know loudly for its individual story and universal appeal. But if you're a fan of Oliver Sacks, or a lover of New York who maybe hasn't had as much time to appreciate the inner details of the city, or if you're in a transitory phase like me and just need a hint of a spark of humanity to connect with and respond to and feel less alone, meet Bill Hayes. Meet Insominac City. It's waiting for you.
-received an ARC on edelweiss, thanks to Bloomsbury
"Wouldn't it be nice if there were a planet where the sound of rain falling is like Bach?"
Oliver Sacks is the immediate draw, a brilliant man but not overly well-known in a personal way by most who "disappeared" (Hayes' verb of choice in lieu of "passed away") too soon by anyone's reckoning since the fate of man is inevitable, but always too soon. The depth of feeling pervades for me even a week after reading it, and how charmed I was by these two incredible individuals finding each other in the universe, and getting such an intimate look into the mind of Oliver Sacks. His intelligence, whimsy, and tenderness jump off the page in such beautiful moments and anecdotes as Hayes gives us unparalleled access to their love.
I: "What else can I do for you?"
O: "Exist."
Just before midnight, I taught O how to open a bottle of champagne, something he had never done before: sweet to see the joy and surprise and fear on his face as - pop! - the cork exploded. He had insisted on wearing his swimming goggles, though, just in case.
It's also a book that will call to those from New York, living in New York, or dreaming of New York. Hayes too dreamed of moving to the city, and though he's honest about its detriments and less glamorous nature, it's such a deep, full throated embrace of the city and its people across all walks of life. Throughout the memoir, Hayes' photography illustrates his life with Oliver, but also New York's glamorous buildings and unknown inhabitants, and Hayes candidly and otherwise captures beautiful human moments of strangers, acquaintances, friends, and lovers. I got the feeling that I would feel incredibly lucky and serendipitous to have an interaction with Bill Hayes on the subway, one of those nice, hey why don't I talk to strangers more often, wow that guy is amazing kind of moments that I don't have as often as I should. Hayes shows us New York, not in a new way but in so much love with this city, warts and all, that I've been more open to a random moment in the shuffle, keeping my headphones off, looking up with a smile.
I remember how Wendy once told me she loved New York so much she couldn't bear the thought of it going on without her. It seemed like both the saddest and the most romantic thing one could possibly say - sad because New York can never return the sentiment, and sad because it's the kind of thing said more often about a romantic love - husband, wife, girlfriend, partner, lover. You can't imagine them going on without you. But they do. We do. Every day, we may wake up and say, What's the point? Why go on? And, there is really only one answer: To be alive.
And its specific tale is no less beautiful or important than the larger takeaway for me of a full embrace of one's life and everything in it, understanding the limits of time imposed on us and appreciating the magic high and mundane that life is while we're here to live it. Ultimately it urges you to reconsider with fresh eyes the world you inhabit, see it for all its attributes good and bad, reach out to its inhabitants also orbiting in similar spaces and revel in the power of human connection, whether simple and small or life changing and grandiose, or both at the same time, a worthy idea in an age fueled by the internet that can make it easier and paradoxically harder to truly connect.
I can't fully put into words how meaningful a read this was for me, and I can only recommend it to everyone I know loudly for its individual story and universal appeal. But if you're a fan of Oliver Sacks, or a lover of New York who maybe hasn't had as much time to appreciate the inner details of the city, or if you're in a transitory phase like me and just need a hint of a spark of humanity to connect with and respond to and feel less alone, meet Bill Hayes. Meet Insominac City. It's waiting for you.
-received an ARC on edelweiss, thanks to Bloomsbury
January 21, 2023
I picked this up kind of on a whim. Though the words “New York” in the title may have had a little to do with my choice! Also, I’m probably not exactly an insomniac (yet), but I do have difficulty staying asleep, so I was intrigued to see how one could live in a city under such conditions. I did get an answer to this, but this book is so much more than coping with insomnia in the city. In fact, I nearly forgot how that played a role in the title! Author Bill Hayes moved across the country to New York City in his late forties to basically “start all over” after his partner died. I was intrigued by the possibility of a middle-aged person, already well established in his or her lifestyle, moving to the big city. It’s all so wonderfully described with some stunning prose!
“Sometimes I’d sit in the kitchen in the dark and gaze out at the Empire State and Chrysler buildings. Such a beautiful pair, so impeccably dressed, he in his boxy suit, every night a different hue, and she, an arm’s length away, in her filigreed skirt the color of the moon. I regarded them as an old married couple, calmly, unblinkingly keeping watch over one of their newest sons.”
This is Bill’s memoir of a very specific time, when after moving to NYC, he finds a new life to share with Oliver Sacks, the famous neurologist and author. It’s also about the joy of existing in the city – striking up conversations with strangers and finding surprising pleasures in the little things. Bill Hayes is also a writer and a photographer, so the reader is rewarded with snapshots of random people he meets throughout the city. (I’ve now got a book of his photography on my wishlist!) He loves walking and taking the subway as both offer so many opportunities for chance encounters. I love this! He’s not afraid to place a hand on the shoulder of a fellow rider that’s obviously had a rough day either.
“Every car on every train on every line holds a surprise, a random sampling of humanity brought together in a confined space for a minute or two—a living Rubik’s Cube. You never know whom you might meet, or who might be sitting next to whom.”
Most of this is written in short chapters with the photographs interspersed throughout. Also included were incidental thoughts jotted down in Bill’s journal – one or two sentences about something that happened or an idea that occurred to him that particular day. It made me want to start a little journal like that of my own. (I’ve never been much interested in doing this until now; so I consider this a bit inspirational as well.) A lot of what he jots down are wise words spoken by Oliver that he wished to remember.
“I say I love writing, but really it is thinking I love—that rush of thoughts—new connections in the brain being made. And it comes out of the blue. In such moments: I feel such love of the world, love of thinking…”
What a wonderful discovery this book was. I was going to give it 4 stars, but I can’t get it out of my head, and I keep going back to my notes here and there to read a particular phrase that really resonated or lit a little spark within me. There’s so much warmth in the writing, I wished to have my own chance encounter with Bill on the subway someday! Not only that, this is a loving tribute to Oliver Sacks. I’ve got to get my hands on one of his books as well! All the stars for sure!
“I don’t so much fear death as I do wasting life.” - Oliver Sacks
“… taking wrong trains, encountering unexpected delays, and suffering occasional mechanical breakdowns are inevitable to any journey really worth taking. One learns to get oneself turned around and headed the right way.” - Bill Hayes
“Sometimes I’d sit in the kitchen in the dark and gaze out at the Empire State and Chrysler buildings. Such a beautiful pair, so impeccably dressed, he in his boxy suit, every night a different hue, and she, an arm’s length away, in her filigreed skirt the color of the moon. I regarded them as an old married couple, calmly, unblinkingly keeping watch over one of their newest sons.”
This is Bill’s memoir of a very specific time, when after moving to NYC, he finds a new life to share with Oliver Sacks, the famous neurologist and author. It’s also about the joy of existing in the city – striking up conversations with strangers and finding surprising pleasures in the little things. Bill Hayes is also a writer and a photographer, so the reader is rewarded with snapshots of random people he meets throughout the city. (I’ve now got a book of his photography on my wishlist!) He loves walking and taking the subway as both offer so many opportunities for chance encounters. I love this! He’s not afraid to place a hand on the shoulder of a fellow rider that’s obviously had a rough day either.
“Every car on every train on every line holds a surprise, a random sampling of humanity brought together in a confined space for a minute or two—a living Rubik’s Cube. You never know whom you might meet, or who might be sitting next to whom.”
Most of this is written in short chapters with the photographs interspersed throughout. Also included were incidental thoughts jotted down in Bill’s journal – one or two sentences about something that happened or an idea that occurred to him that particular day. It made me want to start a little journal like that of my own. (I’ve never been much interested in doing this until now; so I consider this a bit inspirational as well.) A lot of what he jots down are wise words spoken by Oliver that he wished to remember.
“I say I love writing, but really it is thinking I love—that rush of thoughts—new connections in the brain being made. And it comes out of the blue. In such moments: I feel such love of the world, love of thinking…”
What a wonderful discovery this book was. I was going to give it 4 stars, but I can’t get it out of my head, and I keep going back to my notes here and there to read a particular phrase that really resonated or lit a little spark within me. There’s so much warmth in the writing, I wished to have my own chance encounter with Bill on the subway someday! Not only that, this is a loving tribute to Oliver Sacks. I’ve got to get my hands on one of his books as well! All the stars for sure!
“I don’t so much fear death as I do wasting life.” - Oliver Sacks
“… taking wrong trains, encountering unexpected delays, and suffering occasional mechanical breakdowns are inevitable to any journey really worth taking. One learns to get oneself turned around and headed the right way.” - Bill Hayes
April 25, 2017
I couldn’t help but fall in love with New York City as I lived it through author Bill Hayes’ eyes reading Insomniac City: New York, Oliver, and Me. He is a wonderful observer and he captures the essence of people through photographs and his stories. He tells us his life journey (after he loses his beloved partner he leaves San Francisco to start fresh in NYC) and we experience his existence as he heals his soul, taking in the sights of the city and finding beauty in his connections with others. We here about his relationship with Oliver Sacks, the well-known neurologist, genius of a man and can feel the love they had for each other through the pages. Although Sacks was almost 30 years older, Hayes often seemed to be his guide contributing to what made them a well matched, intriguing couple.
I’ve always been enamored with New York City and did enjoy living there for a while, but now, in addition to my renewed appreciation and love for my favorite city I feel warm feelings toward author Bill Hayes who is no doubt a kind, tender hearted, open minded man who, in his life has nurtured loves until they are gone, but he continues to see, appreciate and capture the beauty in this world. Oliver Sacks seemed like a brilliant, unique and loving man…I would have enjoyed meeting him.
As Bill Hayes writes. ” It requires a certain kind of unconditional love to love living here. But New York repays you in time in memorable encounters, at the very least. Just remember: Ask first, don’t grab, be fair, say please and thank you, always say thank you – even if you don’t get something back right away. You will.”
This tender memoir was like reading a love letter to New York City – I have a list of people I know who will cherish it like I did!
Review on Book Nation by Jen
https://booknationbyjen.wordpress.com
I’ve always been enamored with New York City and did enjoy living there for a while, but now, in addition to my renewed appreciation and love for my favorite city I feel warm feelings toward author Bill Hayes who is no doubt a kind, tender hearted, open minded man who, in his life has nurtured loves until they are gone, but he continues to see, appreciate and capture the beauty in this world. Oliver Sacks seemed like a brilliant, unique and loving man…I would have enjoyed meeting him.
As Bill Hayes writes. ” It requires a certain kind of unconditional love to love living here. But New York repays you in time in memorable encounters, at the very least. Just remember: Ask first, don’t grab, be fair, say please and thank you, always say thank you – even if you don’t get something back right away. You will.”
This tender memoir was like reading a love letter to New York City – I have a list of people I know who will cherish it like I did!
Review on Book Nation by Jen
https://booknationbyjen.wordpress.com
July 24, 2017
Insomniac City...such tender, moving, heartwarming/heartbreaking, intelligent writing everything is beautifully observed in this reflective piece of prose a form of ode, a love letter to New York, to a one of a kind love. His NY observations are so insightful so carefully and tenderly described you can't help fall for it yourself. How he talks about O how considered his thoughts are, it is so intricately shared here. Love is so personal, it has no boundaries, it's delicate it's destructive it's all the little things that make you love a person. Nobody's perfect but we should try to find the perfect in everyone. This will break your heart while equally restoring it. If you aren't already in love with New York and of love itself you will be after this!
March 31, 2017
I didn't want this book to end.
July 9, 2017
I wanted to savour this, but I ended up devouring it. It was magical.
February 26, 2023
I was completely charmed by this book! It is a collection— of fragments, essays, photographs, stories, anecdotes, moments with Oliver Sacks, journal entries, street and subway encounters, skateboarders, dinner with Björk, memories and emotions. Yet despite this seemingly-random structure, or maybe because of it, because how moments are arranged to build a life, I found the book to be charmingly coherent, flowing, and of-a-piece.
I almost just typed "of a peace" and there is that, too.
Random Olivers Sacks moment: he claimed to know nothing of pop culture after 1955. Following the sudden death of Michael Jackson, the news trickled into Oliver's awareness and he asked "What is Michael Jackson?"
This book actually features Oliver Sacks less than I had expected. The subtitle is "New York, Oliver, and Me" and that does signal that the city is perhaps to be the most important character, one who offers endless variations and serves up unexpected encounters.
Many of the essays have been published in the New York Times, but there is no detectable difference in the tone, or polish, throughout the book.
I'll just say it again—I loved it!
I almost just typed "of a peace" and there is that, too.
Random Olivers Sacks moment: he claimed to know nothing of pop culture after 1955. Following the sudden death of Michael Jackson, the news trickled into Oliver's awareness and he asked "What is Michael Jackson?"
This book actually features Oliver Sacks less than I had expected. The subtitle is "New York, Oliver, and Me" and that does signal that the city is perhaps to be the most important character, one who offers endless variations and serves up unexpected encounters.
Many of the essays have been published in the New York Times, but there is no detectable difference in the tone, or polish, throughout the book.
I'll just say it again—I loved it!
October 19, 2019
All the stars. Put ‘em right here.
I did not want this surprising, gorgeous book to end.
As track-stopping as fine poetry, as accessible as anything, this book is so many things. Personal transformation after personal tragedy, done so deftly that it’s intimate without taking one word or moment more than needed to tell the story. Authentic and mature such even the most all-the-feels-averse reader (that would be me for a start) is impressed.
There are art and science, love and loss and fear and beginnings and simple eloquence in this memoir-bio-journal-essay-collection beauty. Its so many things I love anyway, and it’s an evolving, beautiful look at the man and the mind of Oliver Sacks and his unexpected love story with the author. Right alongside is an unfolding valentine to NYC, subway stories and newsstand characters and all.
As I inched toward the ending of the audiobook (I did say I didn’t want it to end) that was my companion for driving around town on errands and appointments for many weeks, I started the debate over whether I would buy the paper book or kindle version. When I reached the end I ordered the paper version (I need to read this with a highlighter or at least a pencil, feasting on inked words) along with a sort of companion book of the author’s NYC photography.
This is a book that I fear in reverse to have not found by accident. You know what I mean—what if this book and I had never met? I’ll give you all the good fiction I’ve read this year for the unaffected elegance of this perfectly human, wide awake look at life.
I did not want this surprising, gorgeous book to end.
As track-stopping as fine poetry, as accessible as anything, this book is so many things. Personal transformation after personal tragedy, done so deftly that it’s intimate without taking one word or moment more than needed to tell the story. Authentic and mature such even the most all-the-feels-averse reader (that would be me for a start) is impressed.
There are art and science, love and loss and fear and beginnings and simple eloquence in this memoir-bio-journal-essay-collection beauty. Its so many things I love anyway, and it’s an evolving, beautiful look at the man and the mind of Oliver Sacks and his unexpected love story with the author. Right alongside is an unfolding valentine to NYC, subway stories and newsstand characters and all.
As I inched toward the ending of the audiobook (I did say I didn’t want it to end) that was my companion for driving around town on errands and appointments for many weeks, I started the debate over whether I would buy the paper book or kindle version. When I reached the end I ordered the paper version (I need to read this with a highlighter or at least a pencil, feasting on inked words) along with a sort of companion book of the author’s NYC photography.
This is a book that I fear in reverse to have not found by accident. You know what I mean—what if this book and I had never met? I’ll give you all the good fiction I’ve read this year for the unaffected elegance of this perfectly human, wide awake look at life.
June 24, 2017
This is the most beautiful book I have ever read. For Bill, I will think of words better than beautiful- splendid, lovely, awe-inspiring, extra-ordinary. How lucky for us (the world) that Bill met New York City and met Oliver, the three create a perfect enchanting symphony and sometimes disharmony together. Thank you, Bill, for remembering, capturing, and sharing it with us.
April 15, 2017
"There is really only one thing: To be alive."
A beautiful love song, to Oliver Sacks, to New York City, and to life.
A beautiful love song, to Oliver Sacks, to New York City, and to life.
August 25, 2017
Insomniac City is a moving book about the author's relationship with Oliver Sacks. What I loved most about this book is the way Hayes writes about his love affair with NYC, which brought back memories of my own romance with the city when I first moved there 35 years ago.
September 12, 2017
3+
Ο Όλιβερ Σακς είναι γνωστός παγκοσμίως για τη συνεισφορά του στην επιστήμη της νευρολογίας αλλά εξίσου σημαντικό είναι και το συγγραφικό του έργο.
Ο Bill Hayes επιλέγει να μας γνωρίσει καλύτερα τον άνθρωπο Όλιβερ Σακς μεσα από την καθημερινότητα τους αφού υπήρξαν σύντροφοι στα τελευταία 6 χρονια της ζωής του από το 2009 έως τον Αύγουστο του 2015.
Τρυφερο,συγκινητικό σε όλα τα σημεία που επικρατεί η φιγούρα του Σακς
Υπάρχει όμως και μια αυτοαναφορικότητα του συγγραφέα και ένας ύμνος για την πόλη της Νέας Υόρκης με λεπτομέρειες που νομίζω μειώνουν σε κάποια σημεία την αξία του βιβλίου.Η μετάφραση είναι του Βαγγέλη Προβιά που πρόσφατα τον γνωρίσαμε μέσα από 2 εξαιρετικές συλλογές διηγημάτων, η δε έκδοση καλαίσθητη με όμορφες φωτογραφίες
Ο Όλιβερ Σακς είναι γνωστός παγκοσμίως για τη συνεισφορά του στην επιστήμη της νευρολογίας αλλά εξίσου σημαντικό είναι και το συγγραφικό του έργο.
Ο Bill Hayes επιλέγει να μας γνωρίσει καλύτερα τον άνθρωπο Όλιβερ Σακς μεσα από την καθημερινότητα τους αφού υπήρξαν σύντροφοι στα τελευταία 6 χρονια της ζωής του από το 2009 έως τον Αύγουστο του 2015.
Τρυφερο,συγκινητικό σε όλα τα σημεία που επικρατεί η φιγούρα του Σακς
Υπάρχει όμως και μια αυτοαναφορικότητα του συγγραφέα και ένας ύμνος για την πόλη της Νέας Υόρκης με λεπτομέρειες που νομίζω μειώνουν σε κάποια σημεία την αξία του βιβλίου.Η μετάφραση είναι του Βαγγέλη Προβιά που πρόσφατα τον γνωρίσαμε μέσα από 2 εξαιρετικές συλλογές διηγημάτων, η δε έκδοση καλαίσθητη με όμορφες φωτογραφίες
July 10, 2018
A really tender memoir written by Bill Hayes, Oliver Sacks’ partner, in the years leading up to Sacks’ death. Interspersed with Hayes’ beautiful photography this is a poignant love letter to Oliver Sacks and to New York. Loved every minute of it. 💕
February 6, 2017
via my blog https://bookstalkerblog.wordpress.com/
"Some days, I feel like Sylvia Plath married to Anne Sexton- or is it Anne Sexton married to Sylvia Plath?- but without the depression or suicides.
Just poetry."
This is a bitingly beautiful book, a celebration of life, love, loss, New York and the relationship between Bill Hayes and Oliver Sacks. In truth, I fell in love with Oliver myself bathing in the memories Hayes showers on the reader. There seemed to be an infinite childlike curiosity and lust for life in Sacks, and an overflow of genius. How could Bill not be changed by his love for Oliver nor feel such a crippling loss of such a soul in his life? New York might well break your heart, and so will the love and tenderness Bill Hayes shares in this gorgeous memoir.
The connections fired off in Oliver’s brain each day, looking at ordinary things we usually dismiss,warmed me to my toes. There is something refreshing about Oliver and Hayes love for him shines through the telling. The photography of Bill’s is moving, not everyone can capture a person’s essence in a photograph- Bill Hayes has. There are sweet stories about Bill’s encounters with strangers, and one of my favorite photographs he took is of Ilona Royce Smithkin, the eye artist. There is something endearing about her art, and in the photo of her by a window, she is just as I imagined she would look. It has to be said my favorite part of the book is when they meet with Björk, yes-the singer. I was tickled to learn Oliver wasn’t aware of who she was and the meeting of like minds moved me. They were familiar to each other in spirit, both curious and brilliant in their own right, fame not withstanding.
Oliver isn’t Bill’s only love, nor loss. First was Steve, his partner that passed away from cardiac arrest as he slept deeply beside him. To say he was bereft is minimizing the horror, the crumbling of one’s reality when death steals away our loved ones. In an effort to outrun his grief, he travels but his life eventually begins anew when he starts over in New York. Unlike so many youthful dreamers that head to bustling city, Oliver was nearing 50 years of age. Is it possibly to become a New Yorker when you aren’t as fresh and new? Though he an Oliver had first become acquainted when Sacks wrote Bill a letter, meeting when he visited NY, it wasn’t the catalyst for the move. He needed a change, needed to shed his life in San Francisco- it was time for rebirth. It was a blessing that love blossomed between Oliver as they saw more of each other, no longer on opposite sides of the country, a man 30 years his senior comes to mean so much to his life. You just never know what is waiting for you on the other side of grief, as Bill soon learned. We are lucky to be a part of Hayes’ love affair with New York, strangers, photography and always, Oliver. Though it’s a book that speaks of grief, I found it to be much more a memoir celebrating love and the promise of living, of forging ahead with hope and joy.
Nearing the end of Oliver’s life I felt my heart weighted, for a light was leaving our world. As he lay dying and his friends and lover gathered together and read to him I thought ‘what a tender manner to slip away in your last days.’ To the end Oliver was brave and curious and loved, much loved. A true love story just in time for Valentine’s Day.
Beautiful Memoir with lovely photographs. It was touching in every way.
Publication Date: February 14, 2017
Bloomsbury USA
"Some days, I feel like Sylvia Plath married to Anne Sexton- or is it Anne Sexton married to Sylvia Plath?- but without the depression or suicides.
Just poetry."
This is a bitingly beautiful book, a celebration of life, love, loss, New York and the relationship between Bill Hayes and Oliver Sacks. In truth, I fell in love with Oliver myself bathing in the memories Hayes showers on the reader. There seemed to be an infinite childlike curiosity and lust for life in Sacks, and an overflow of genius. How could Bill not be changed by his love for Oliver nor feel such a crippling loss of such a soul in his life? New York might well break your heart, and so will the love and tenderness Bill Hayes shares in this gorgeous memoir.
The connections fired off in Oliver’s brain each day, looking at ordinary things we usually dismiss,warmed me to my toes. There is something refreshing about Oliver and Hayes love for him shines through the telling. The photography of Bill’s is moving, not everyone can capture a person’s essence in a photograph- Bill Hayes has. There are sweet stories about Bill’s encounters with strangers, and one of my favorite photographs he took is of Ilona Royce Smithkin, the eye artist. There is something endearing about her art, and in the photo of her by a window, she is just as I imagined she would look. It has to be said my favorite part of the book is when they meet with Björk, yes-the singer. I was tickled to learn Oliver wasn’t aware of who she was and the meeting of like minds moved me. They were familiar to each other in spirit, both curious and brilliant in their own right, fame not withstanding.
Oliver isn’t Bill’s only love, nor loss. First was Steve, his partner that passed away from cardiac arrest as he slept deeply beside him. To say he was bereft is minimizing the horror, the crumbling of one’s reality when death steals away our loved ones. In an effort to outrun his grief, he travels but his life eventually begins anew when he starts over in New York. Unlike so many youthful dreamers that head to bustling city, Oliver was nearing 50 years of age. Is it possibly to become a New Yorker when you aren’t as fresh and new? Though he an Oliver had first become acquainted when Sacks wrote Bill a letter, meeting when he visited NY, it wasn’t the catalyst for the move. He needed a change, needed to shed his life in San Francisco- it was time for rebirth. It was a blessing that love blossomed between Oliver as they saw more of each other, no longer on opposite sides of the country, a man 30 years his senior comes to mean so much to his life. You just never know what is waiting for you on the other side of grief, as Bill soon learned. We are lucky to be a part of Hayes’ love affair with New York, strangers, photography and always, Oliver. Though it’s a book that speaks of grief, I found it to be much more a memoir celebrating love and the promise of living, of forging ahead with hope and joy.
Nearing the end of Oliver’s life I felt my heart weighted, for a light was leaving our world. As he lay dying and his friends and lover gathered together and read to him I thought ‘what a tender manner to slip away in your last days.’ To the end Oliver was brave and curious and loved, much loved. A true love story just in time for Valentine’s Day.
Beautiful Memoir with lovely photographs. It was touching in every way.
Publication Date: February 14, 2017
Bloomsbury USA
November 6, 2019
I was pretty skeptical about this book even before attempting it. Coming on the heels of Oliver Sacks’s death, it struck me as an opportunistic money grab on the part of the publishing industry and perhaps on the part of Sacks’s late-in-life partner as well. About 70 pages in, I decided I really didn’t care to read about the author’s romantic relationship with Sacks and not about the heretofore-unknown-to-me memoirist, Hayes, either. A good part of the book is a sort of ode to New York City, not exactly a place whose praise I need or want to hear sung. I also found the fragmented and sometimes self-indulgent writing off putting. It does make me happy to know that Sacks found some personal happiness towards the end and that his lover adored him, but I found the appeal of the book very limited.
July 13, 2018
This book is subtitled "New York, Oliver, and Me", and really that's pretty accurate. It's not so much a memoir as a collection of extracts from conversations, diaries and events - it feels fairly random. I was a bit disappointed, to be honest - it never seems to do more than scratch the surface of any of the elements of the subtitle.
August 1, 2018
Please bear with me as I listened to the audiobook (fantastic narration), so am doing this from memory with no material for reference ...
First of all, I want to mention that I have not read Oliver Sachs' memoir; however, I don't think that was necessary. I could see how he came to fall in love with Bill from reading this story. Not that it's self-congratulatory, but that Bill was easily able to accept Oliver's eccentricity, which few others could manage. One of their early dates was to a museum to see either dinosaurs or minerals (I forget which) ; Oliver gives Bill birthday presents related to the atomic number of the element matching the milestone.
They visit Bjork in Iceland twice, as she's a huge fan of Oliver's books. The first, more detailed, trip gave Bill an opportunity to show both Oliver and Bjork as interesting people, who just have to be famous, rather than celebrities. Another incident has Bill and Oliver thrown together with Lauren Hutton in a "You can't make this stuff up"adventure. She is aware of Oliver, but he has no idea who she is (though they hit it off well), with Bill remarking "I couldn't have explained who she was (why she was famous) to him if I'd tried."
Oliver's death is not sad in that he was 82, having lived a full life (shall we say), but as Bill's loss it was harder to get through. It hadn't been all that earlier that they came to realize they were in love. Bill had lost his first partner suddenly, which proved the catalyst to move to New York from San Francisco.
The book starts (roughly) with Steve's death from a heart attack one night in bed,followed by Bill's need to start over somewhere else. So, New York it is. He sent Oliver a fan letter which moved Oliver enough to respond, soon they met, and fell in love gradually.
However, where Bill succeeds brilliantly has to do with contrasting his own New York story, as his own person, Oliver aside. A chapter in that vein which truly struck me focused on a woman whom he'd photographed (an interest of his along with writing) insisting that he sit for a drawing by her. He and Oliver never lived together (aside from Oliver's final month), so there was plenty of such material of his own. He integrates that aspect along with Oliver, so that neither feels grafted onto the other to "fill out" the story.
As a quibble, I wanted to know why they never married? The idea would have unthinkable to Oliver at first, but by the end things had changed a great deal. Bill mentions the idea of same sex husbands and wives as a concept he (Bill himself) hadn't gotten used to.
Highly recommended reading, with one more scene from their relationship I cannot resist relating ...
I accidentally dropped a package of cherry tomatoes on the floor, with Oliver exclaiming "What a beautiful pattern!" So, I dropped another.
First of all, I want to mention that I have not read Oliver Sachs' memoir; however, I don't think that was necessary. I could see how he came to fall in love with Bill from reading this story. Not that it's self-congratulatory, but that Bill was easily able to accept Oliver's eccentricity, which few others could manage. One of their early dates was to a museum to see either dinosaurs or minerals (I forget which) ; Oliver gives Bill birthday presents related to the atomic number of the element matching the milestone.
They visit Bjork in Iceland twice, as she's a huge fan of Oliver's books. The first, more detailed, trip gave Bill an opportunity to show both Oliver and Bjork as interesting people, who just have to be famous, rather than celebrities. Another incident has Bill and Oliver thrown together with Lauren Hutton in a "You can't make this stuff up"adventure. She is aware of Oliver, but he has no idea who she is (though they hit it off well), with Bill remarking "I couldn't have explained who she was (why she was famous) to him if I'd tried."
Oliver's death is not sad in that he was 82, having lived a full life (shall we say), but as Bill's loss it was harder to get through. It hadn't been all that earlier that they came to realize they were in love. Bill had lost his first partner suddenly, which proved the catalyst to move to New York from San Francisco.
The book starts (roughly) with Steve's death from a heart attack one night in bed,followed by Bill's need to start over somewhere else. So, New York it is. He sent Oliver a fan letter which moved Oliver enough to respond, soon they met, and fell in love gradually.
However, where Bill succeeds brilliantly has to do with contrasting his own New York story, as his own person, Oliver aside. A chapter in that vein which truly struck me focused on a woman whom he'd photographed (an interest of his along with writing) insisting that he sit for a drawing by her. He and Oliver never lived together (aside from Oliver's final month), so there was plenty of such material of his own. He integrates that aspect along with Oliver, so that neither feels grafted onto the other to "fill out" the story.
As a quibble, I wanted to know why they never married? The idea would have unthinkable to Oliver at first, but by the end things had changed a great deal. Bill mentions the idea of same sex husbands and wives as a concept he (Bill himself) hadn't gotten used to.
Highly recommended reading, with one more scene from their relationship I cannot resist relating ...
I accidentally dropped a package of cherry tomatoes on the floor, with Oliver exclaiming "What a beautiful pattern!" So, I dropped another.
May 4, 2017
This gorgeous book is a love letter to the author's partner (Oliver Sacks) and to the city of New York. The NYC of Billy Hayes is one I've only caught a glimpse of-- he's the kind of man who can make friends with anyone, and goes out of his way to do so. Reading this book is like getting an insider's look at the city through the eyes of someone who loves humanity.
The prose reads like poetry, and you can tell the author cares as much about the beauty of language as he does the beauty of photography, science, and people. An absolutely gorgeous book.
Disclaimer- I work for the publisher, which is how I got an early copy, but the review is entirely honest.
The prose reads like poetry, and you can tell the author cares as much about the beauty of language as he does the beauty of photography, science, and people. An absolutely gorgeous book.
Disclaimer- I work for the publisher, which is how I got an early copy, but the review is entirely honest.
June 7, 2018
I feel like I’ve found a kindred spirit in Bill Hayes. I admire him for his willingness to pause and see where others wouldn’t dare to look, and for his openness to share his most intimate moments with readers. ‘Insomniac City’ is filled with loud curiosity and quiet enthusiasm, brave romanticism and loving sensitivity. It breaks your heart and at the same time, mends it.
June 16, 2017
The language and way of writing can sometimes seem pretentious and a bit too tryhard for my tastes, but there are some really lovely moments in it.
May 18, 2017
I don't know if other native New Yorkers feel this way, but I've often envied people who move here. Sometimes it's a long-held dream to live in "the big city," to escape the suffocating small town or repressive family and finally "live!" In Bill Hayes case, it was an impulse move, following the death of his lover Steve with whom he lived in San Francisco. What I envy is the newcomer's ability to discover and invent (the two are inseparable) a New York all their own and fall in love with it. I still love New York, but the city I love is not the one in which I grew up in the 50s and 60s. I often tell people that New York has been four completely different cities in my lifetime, and they have not all been equally loveable. Even the Brooklyn neighborhood of my childhood, Prospect Heights, is now in its third incarnation. The present New York has retained my love mostly because in spite of the changes wrought by both the international and local rich (something like 1/4 of Manhattanites are millionaires) New York is increasingly cosmopolitan, and racially and ethnically more diverse than it was in the much more homogenous fifties.
I mention this because one of the many charms of Insomniac City is the vision, both photographic and verbal, Hayes presents of exactly this most recent New York. His embrace of nearly the entire populace, whom he talks to, photographs, celebrates (and celebrates with) and eulogizes is a delight. There are so many instances, and I don't have a favorite, but this one from one of the many journal entries devoted to "Ali" comes close. Hayes describes three men "doing the hard, awful, dirty work of cleaning out, emptying, and gutting the shop" in which Ali has worked for years, and is now closing.
"Everything upside down," Ali said, "Nothing easy."
And yet, and yet . . . Ali added, referring to the three of them,
"One Muslim, one Hindu, one Sikh: You see, we all here. Everyone work together. Back home, everyone fight."
So much of Insomniac City is a love letter to New York. And then, the other great pleasure is, of course, the portrait of his lover, Oliver Sacks, whom he describes with tenderness, humor, and a complete lack of sentimentality, even at the end when Sacks himself bravely and with great clarity of mind, faces his death.
I gulped this book down in a day, and look forward to another reading.
I mention this because one of the many charms of Insomniac City is the vision, both photographic and verbal, Hayes presents of exactly this most recent New York. His embrace of nearly the entire populace, whom he talks to, photographs, celebrates (and celebrates with) and eulogizes is a delight. There are so many instances, and I don't have a favorite, but this one from one of the many journal entries devoted to "Ali" comes close. Hayes describes three men "doing the hard, awful, dirty work of cleaning out, emptying, and gutting the shop" in which Ali has worked for years, and is now closing.
"Everything upside down," Ali said, "Nothing easy."
And yet, and yet . . . Ali added, referring to the three of them,
"One Muslim, one Hindu, one Sikh: You see, we all here. Everyone work together. Back home, everyone fight."
So much of Insomniac City is a love letter to New York. And then, the other great pleasure is, of course, the portrait of his lover, Oliver Sacks, whom he describes with tenderness, humor, and a complete lack of sentimentality, even at the end when Sacks himself bravely and with great clarity of mind, faces his death.
I gulped this book down in a day, and look forward to another reading.
August 6, 2018
You will fall in love TOTALLY and unequivocally with this piece of art, it flows , it’s beautifully written it’s captivating, what more does one want, you will be transported to another realm.❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
January 28, 2024
I hope I remember to reread this book every year
It’s one of those ones where you catch yourself smiling while reading and wondering how someone can capture all the beautifully unbeautiful parts of living in a city so perfectly.
It’s also the best antidote for heartbreak or homesickness for a person, place, or period of time. If I haven’t already talked your ear off about this book, we haven’t met yet.
It’s one of those ones where you catch yourself smiling while reading and wondering how someone can capture all the beautifully unbeautiful parts of living in a city so perfectly.
It’s also the best antidote for heartbreak or homesickness for a person, place, or period of time. If I haven’t already talked your ear off about this book, we haven’t met yet.
June 22, 2022
A very sweet love letter to New York City and to Oliver Sacks.
June 21, 2017
I love when the right book finds you at the right time. I took this home randomly one night, and adored it.
Bill Hayes moved to New York after the sudden death of his partner. He fell in love with the city, and with the brilliant neurologist, Oliver Sacks. Sacks had written to Hayes when his book The Anatomist released, saying he loved it and to let him know if he were ever in New York. When Hayes moved, they became friends, and Hayes became the great love of Oliver's life.
Insomniac City is a bunch of vignettes, photographs and journal entries about Hayes and Sacks' time together. It is quiet and romantic, and the writing was beautiful, reminding me of Abigail Thomas (one of my favourites). This was a pleasure to read. Now I'm off to read Sacks' biography!
Bill Hayes moved to New York after the sudden death of his partner. He fell in love with the city, and with the brilliant neurologist, Oliver Sacks. Sacks had written to Hayes when his book The Anatomist released, saying he loved it and to let him know if he were ever in New York. When Hayes moved, they became friends, and Hayes became the great love of Oliver's life.
Insomniac City is a bunch of vignettes, photographs and journal entries about Hayes and Sacks' time together. It is quiet and romantic, and the writing was beautiful, reminding me of Abigail Thomas (one of my favourites). This was a pleasure to read. Now I'm off to read Sacks' biography!
December 11, 2017
I'll forever remember this book - the raw personal anecdotes, the contemplative reflection, the photographs that were the window to not just Bill Hayes' life and the very intimate relationship between Hayes and Oliver Sacks, but also to the soul of New York City, this insomniac city... The city that never sleeps.
"O: "The most we can do is to write—intelligently, creatively, critically, evocatively—about what it is like living in the world at this time."" That Bill Hayes has done.
"O: "The most we can do is to write—intelligently, creatively, critically, evocatively—about what it is like living in the world at this time."" That Bill Hayes has done.
March 27, 2022
One can be alive but half-asleep or half-noticing as the years fly, no matter how fully oxygenated the blood and brain or how steadily the heart beats. Fortunately, this is a reversible condition. One can learn to be alert to the extraordinary and press pause—to memorize moments of the everyday (p. 130).
That is exactly what Bill Hayes aims for in Insomniac City: New York, Oliver, and Me, which chronicles the joy Hayes experienced with his two new loves: New York City and Oliver Sacks. It is comprised of a series of short essays/observations interwoven with his photos of New York, found pieces (gifts of poems and a drawing), and journal entries. All of this comes together much as a stain glass window: a series of small pieces pulled together to form a glorious whole.
Sacks was such an interesting and interested person, making Insomniac City feel like Little Prince (which I recently read for the first time). Hayes collects Sacks' curiousness, their quiet wordplay (or loving play). Parents delight in and record their children's words, but most of us forget to do that with our adult loves.
7-09-09, Oliver’s 76th birthday:
After I kiss him for a long time, exploring his mouth and lips with my tongue, he has a look of utter surprise on his face, eyes still closed: “Is that what kissing is, or is that something you’ve invented?”
I laugh, disarmed. I tell him it’s patented—he’s sworn to secrecy.
O smiles.
“And if I hold you closely enough, I can hear your brain,” I tell him. (p. 40).
1-4-11
On the word list:
I: “What do you list toward, Oliver?”
O: “Other than libidinal listings?”
I: “Those go without saying.”
O: “I want a flow of good thoughts and words as long as I’m alive … and you? What do you list toward?” (p. 56)
1/8/11
O: “I don’t regret the things I’ve done but those I haven’t done. In that way, I’m like a criminal …” (p. 63)
4/22/15
O: “The most we can do is to write—intelligently, creatively, critically, evocatively—about what it is like living in the world at this time.” (p. 254).
Hayes' journal entries demonstrate he listens deeply and finds grace and joy in what he sees and hears. They are evidence of the safety that both men found in this relationship.
Although it is easy to focus on Sacks' intelligence and curiosity, an equal part of this book's charm belongs to Hayes, who discovers a man who was living on the street, talks with him, gives him five dollars – and is given a poem because the man didn't take anything without giving back. Who sees a young black woman dressed entirely in pink and tells her she looks fabulous – "purely through my thoughts" (p. 122). Who walks into a party at a surf shop near his apartment, despite not knowing anyone (and never surfing). Who listened to and learned from taxi drivers and smoke shop operators.
Hayes saw the extraordinary in the everyday.
This is also a book about grief, as Hayes' partner Steve, then his editor, and finally Oliver died over the course of this book. His is a lovely response to that grief:
What I had really wanted to say [when asked how he had gotten over Steve's death] but found myself unable to explain (for it would have sounded too strange) was that I learned a good deal about moving through grief from some trees I once knew. They were not my trees. I didn’t plant them. They stood right outside the windows in my first New York apartment. The only tending done was to give them my full attention over the course of four seasons. (p. 180)
Watching the trees change across the seasons changed the way that he viewed change and loss.
Hayes gave that same attention to the subjects of his photos – mostly but not solely of residents of New York City. As in his essays, he was able to see the beauty around him, even in people not conventionally beautiful.
This was my second reading of Insomniac City, as charming as the first.
Photos are Bill Hayes', from Insomniac City.
That is exactly what Bill Hayes aims for in Insomniac City: New York, Oliver, and Me, which chronicles the joy Hayes experienced with his two new loves: New York City and Oliver Sacks. It is comprised of a series of short essays/observations interwoven with his photos of New York, found pieces (gifts of poems and a drawing), and journal entries. All of this comes together much as a stain glass window: a series of small pieces pulled together to form a glorious whole.
Sacks was such an interesting and interested person, making Insomniac City feel like Little Prince (which I recently read for the first time). Hayes collects Sacks' curiousness, their quiet wordplay (or loving play). Parents delight in and record their children's words, but most of us forget to do that with our adult loves.
7-09-09, Oliver’s 76th birthday:
After I kiss him for a long time, exploring his mouth and lips with my tongue, he has a look of utter surprise on his face, eyes still closed: “Is that what kissing is, or is that something you’ve invented?”
I laugh, disarmed. I tell him it’s patented—he’s sworn to secrecy.
O smiles.
“And if I hold you closely enough, I can hear your brain,” I tell him. (p. 40).
1-4-11
On the word list:
I: “What do you list toward, Oliver?”
O: “Other than libidinal listings?”
I: “Those go without saying.”
O: “I want a flow of good thoughts and words as long as I’m alive … and you? What do you list toward?” (p. 56)
1/8/11
O: “I don’t regret the things I’ve done but those I haven’t done. In that way, I’m like a criminal …” (p. 63)
4/22/15
O: “The most we can do is to write—intelligently, creatively, critically, evocatively—about what it is like living in the world at this time.” (p. 254).
Hayes' journal entries demonstrate he listens deeply and finds grace and joy in what he sees and hears. They are evidence of the safety that both men found in this relationship.
Although it is easy to focus on Sacks' intelligence and curiosity, an equal part of this book's charm belongs to Hayes, who discovers a man who was living on the street, talks with him, gives him five dollars – and is given a poem because the man didn't take anything without giving back. Who sees a young black woman dressed entirely in pink and tells her she looks fabulous – "purely through my thoughts" (p. 122). Who walks into a party at a surf shop near his apartment, despite not knowing anyone (and never surfing). Who listened to and learned from taxi drivers and smoke shop operators.
Hayes saw the extraordinary in the everyday.
This is also a book about grief, as Hayes' partner Steve, then his editor, and finally Oliver died over the course of this book. His is a lovely response to that grief:
What I had really wanted to say [when asked how he had gotten over Steve's death] but found myself unable to explain (for it would have sounded too strange) was that I learned a good deal about moving through grief from some trees I once knew. They were not my trees. I didn’t plant them. They stood right outside the windows in my first New York apartment. The only tending done was to give them my full attention over the course of four seasons. (p. 180)
Watching the trees change across the seasons changed the way that he viewed change and loss.
Hayes gave that same attention to the subjects of his photos – mostly but not solely of residents of New York City. As in his essays, he was able to see the beauty around him, even in people not conventionally beautiful.
This was my second reading of Insomniac City, as charming as the first.
Photos are Bill Hayes', from Insomniac City.
September 25, 2022
Hayes is very sentimental about New York, and his general outlook is quite romantic. But it wasn’t cloying, it was (mostly) charming. He’s earnest. In fiction I probably wouldn’t have been able to stomach it, and a literary writer of fiction would find a series of earnest effusions of joy and love from beginning to end difficult. Unless you’re an original like Calvino or Robert Walser, that is.
He says at one point: “I’m tuned into the people around me…” And this feels true, as he writes about one-off encounters with people, and about what he observes in the strangers he watches, and the acquaintances he makes that most people wouldn’t. Again, charming stuff.
There was a bit of that insular New Yorker energy – that closed-minded pride of the New Yorker who talks incessantly about how NYC is the greatest city in the world. Which: annoying. This strayed a little from the charming. But Hayes is very likable, and clearly personable, and he mostly gets away with it.
I liked the way the book was structured, with parts and chapters and photos and journal entries. All pieces overlapping, short and sharp, written as vignettes. The anecdotes of his moments with his long term boyfriends Steve and Oliver Sacks were lovely. Notes of seemingly random things Sacks has said is a highlight.
Hayes can describe things well, and his flights of fancy and interesting metaphors are pretty and quite literary.
Hayes is a sensualist, an appreciator, and an understander of the significance of the inconsequential. It’s a small, intimate book of moments, mostly of life’s little pleasures. And that’s how I like to be in my life. I’m an aesthete and a sensualist, and feel that while it’s silly to chase “happiness”, I can, rather, give myself over to the smells, sights, sounds, tastes, physicality and feel of things, and everyday interactions, things that make me laugh, literature, sex etc.
I’m with Woolf: “I belong to quick, futile moments of intense feeling. Yes, I belong to moments. Not to people.”
He says at one point: “I’m tuned into the people around me…” And this feels true, as he writes about one-off encounters with people, and about what he observes in the strangers he watches, and the acquaintances he makes that most people wouldn’t. Again, charming stuff.
There was a bit of that insular New Yorker energy – that closed-minded pride of the New Yorker who talks incessantly about how NYC is the greatest city in the world. Which: annoying. This strayed a little from the charming. But Hayes is very likable, and clearly personable, and he mostly gets away with it.
I liked the way the book was structured, with parts and chapters and photos and journal entries. All pieces overlapping, short and sharp, written as vignettes. The anecdotes of his moments with his long term boyfriends Steve and Oliver Sacks were lovely. Notes of seemingly random things Sacks has said is a highlight.
Hayes can describe things well, and his flights of fancy and interesting metaphors are pretty and quite literary.
Hayes is a sensualist, an appreciator, and an understander of the significance of the inconsequential. It’s a small, intimate book of moments, mostly of life’s little pleasures. And that’s how I like to be in my life. I’m an aesthete and a sensualist, and feel that while it’s silly to chase “happiness”, I can, rather, give myself over to the smells, sights, sounds, tastes, physicality and feel of things, and everyday interactions, things that make me laugh, literature, sex etc.
I’m with Woolf: “I belong to quick, futile moments of intense feeling. Yes, I belong to moments. Not to people.”
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