Historically, I’ve never been a fan of nonfiction. The genre has grown on me over the years, and I have this book to thank for it. Goodbye, Again by Jonny Sun is a nonfiction book of essays and reflections about his life as a writer and a person struggling with the vast challenges life throws at him. From moving house to dealing with loneliness to a bittersweet compilation of egg recipes and ranking the last fifteen minutes of the end of the world, this book explores the highs and lows of Sun’s thoughts and life.
I find that the most interesting parts of this book had to do with the exploration of the mundane and simple parts of life that somehow manage to stick in your memory even after so much time has passed. Sun makes references throughout the book to his basement level — excuse me, Garden level — apartment from the very first essay of the book. He also talks about happy and sad memories he has with his family, and how they’ve been an influential part of not only his life in general, but also as a writer.
One of the most prevalent themes, I’d say, is how Sun views his relationship with writing and productivity. Even in pieces that are seemingly about something else, oftentimes he circles back to this idea that he must always be productive. I find that as a fellow writer, this mindset of always wanting to produce something not for yourself but for the sake of being productive is very easy to have. This feeling of imposter syndrome that I know many artists feel is certainly a struggle for the larger creative community, and I think this book captures this feeling very well without saying it outright. It’s very personal while widely relatable.
Another unique element of this book is that Sun peppers little doodles throughout the pieces, adding a multimedia aspect to the book. He mostly draws the plants he talks about taking care of over the course of his life, but an animal or two slips through occasionally. My personal favourite is his drawing of a cat climbing through a window (pictured below).
While each essay and short recollections were all important, there were a few that stood out to me and remain my favourite pieces. The first one that comes to mind is one titled “How to cook scrambled eggs.” While the first part of the piece is about scrambled eggs, it goes on to contain several more recipes for nostalgic egg dishes that are full of more than just ingredient lists and instructions. Sun utilizes the recipe format to tell stories about his childhood as it relates to food, and how meals have been important influences in his life. The piece begins and ends with the scrambled eggs and a sense of sentimentality and hope.
Another piece that stood out to me is a piece called “Your last 15 minutes before the end of the world, ranked from worst to best.” As the title suggests, this piece is a comprehensive list of Sun’s opinions and rankings of the hypothetical last fifteen minutes of the world. What’s really interesting is that while the list is numbered, fifteen to one, where the individual minutes themselves are located doesn’t correspond to the number it’s next to. Sun ranks minute four at the fourteenth spot, minute seven at the twelfth spot, and so on. It’s a little bit disorienting to read, mixing up the minutes with the numbered list. But at the same time it’s a fascinating idea, to rank the last minutes of the end of the world. However confusing the first time around, it’s still very emotional and worth the read.
One final thing that captured my attention was how Sun used titles. I thought every title of the pieces were very thought out and relevant. My favourite title, and one of my favourite pieces out of the entire book, was “What if instead of working anymore I just walked straight into the ocean.” It’s extremely comedic to see at first glance, and the body of the small piece begins with an ellipsis, like the work itself continues the initial thought of the title. The small bit of prose itself is very sentimental, but the title is very funny and creative.
Jonny Sun’s work in Goodbye, Again is a wonderful journey through the individual struggles of an artist, plant dad, and living in a basement level — sorry, Garden level apartment — that will always feel like home.
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