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The Sunny Nihilist: A Declaration of the Pleasure of Pointlessness
A positively rebellious take on a traditionally negative philosophy offers an antidote for our anxious times.Career success, a beautiful life, a beautiful Instagram account—what's the point? In a world where meaning has become twisted into a form of currency that everyone is very keen to cash in on, journalist Wendy Syfret invites you to change the way you think about the way you think.In her seminal work, The Sunny Nihilist, Syfret presents the optimism in Nihilism, encouraging us to dismantle our self-care and self-centered way of living and accept a life more or less ordinary. Syfret re-examines the meaning of worth, value, time, happiness, success, and connection, and guides us towards the alternative path of pointless pleasure.When you let go of the idea that everything must have purpose, you will find relief from stress, exhaustion, and anxiety. Most importantly, you can embrace the opportunity to enjoy the moment, the present, the chaos and luck of being alive at all. The Sunny Nihilist is an inspiring call to action and survival adaptation for modern life.
181 pages, Kindle Edition
Published January 4, 2022
197 people are currently reading
4866 people want to read
About the author
Wendy Syfret
6 books19 followersWendy Syfret is an award-winning Melbourne based writer, editor, and author of The Sunny Nihilist (Profile) and How to Think Like an Activist (Hardie Grant). She is currently serving as Editor in Chief at RIISE. Previously she was Managing editor of VICE Asia, Head of Editorial for VICE Australia, and Australian editor of pioneering fashion publication i-D. Her work regularly appears in the Guardian, Crikey, Frankie, and the Saturday Paper.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 247 reviews
December 17, 2021
I was really excited about this one at first, because I agree with the main ideas, but my interested waned when I realized that while it nodded to criticisms and other perspectives, it's so much from a very narrow point of view. While "we" were all making sourdough bread during lockdown, or the worries "we" have, where "we" is just millennial middle-class office workers. Nihilism being used to justify racism and violence is discussed, but I don't feel like it comes to any meaningful (ha!) conclusion as much as just mentioning it and moving on. I had high hopes for this, but it ended up feeling too narrow.
January 11, 2022
If you had to pick a single philosophical doctrine or movement that would be most difficult to defend today, nihilism would be a solid choice. Nihilism is associated with the worst parts of Nietzsche's teachings, the rise of Nazi and fascist ideology, the alt-right, and the tendency toward anarchy, chaos, immorality, despair, and destruction. Even the Merriam-Webster dictionary defines nihilism as “the belief that a society's political and social institutions are so bad that they should be destroyed.”
So writing a book defending nihilism—no matter how many optimistic-sounding adjectives you place in front of it—is a tall order. In fact, it would probably be easier to ditch the term entirely and either invent a new one (like how some authors now use “progressive capitalism” in place of socialism) or, in this case, use a readily available close alternative: existentialism.
But Melbourne-based writer Wendy Syfret isn’t messing around with terminology; she’s sticking with nihilism all the way. In The Sunny Nihilist: A Declaration of the Pleasure of Pointlessness, Syfret takes on the unenviable task of making nihilism seem like something pleasant and worth adopting as an orientation towards life. It’s a formidable task—some might even say a meaningless one—but let’s give her the benefit of the doubt and see where it takes us.
First of all, we should recognize that complex philosophies cannot be captured in a single word. Nihilism is not one thing; rather, it is better thought of as a loose set of beliefs and doctrines that can be applied to various aspects of life in numerous ways. There are, as with any philosophical position, mild and extreme forms. So whereas a certain kind of nihilist might think that all life is worthless, that nothing can be known whatsoever, and that all systems should be destroyed, a more moderate nihilist may believe there is no objective morality beyond what humans invent but that this fact can be used as a tool for transcending the limitations and constraints of tradition to create a better world.
Syfret belongs to the latter category. Which tells you something about nihilism (her version, anyway) right off the bat: it has both a destructive or eliminative component but also a constructive component. The eliminative component can be taken to the extreme: i.e., believing that nothing has value, everything is pointless, and everything should be destroyed, bar none. This is the nihilism of our popular imagination and the reason why we collectively despise it.
But it’s not necessary to take things this far. Syfret’s nihilism is milder, and includes a constructive component. While Syfret would agree that meaning is an illusion, it’s not a valueless illusion. There may be no objective morality, but the moral codes we’ve created are valuable because, as social animals, we care deeply about others for their own sake and because we care about how others perceive us (at least among non-psychopaths). Nihilism (Syfret’s version) simply states that morality doesn’t need to be made more complicated than this by, for example, inventing gods or pretending we’re all on some critically important historical or cosmic mission. Morality may be cosmically meaningless, but it isn’t valueless among empathetic human beings that are part of a community.
But this begs the question: Does this general recognition of cosmic meaninglessness make us worse people? The opposite, actually. Once we realize that we are not the center of the universe—that “one day we’ll be dead and no one will remember us anyway”—we can drop our hyper-individualistic, selfish attitudes and simply enjoy the simple pleasures life has to offer in the company of others. Without so much emphasis on our own self-importance, we can direct that energy towards helping others, our communities, and perhaps even the world at large.
As Syfret reminds us, we perpetually toil away to pursue “meaningful” work thinking we will achieve some form of immortality in the process. But even if we were to become rich and famous, and remembered for a few generations after we die, we won’t be around to see it or enjoy it, so what could it really matter? We’ll all be forgotten eventually.
This revelation makes one realize that their life truly is, in the cosmic sense, meaningless. But rather than causing despair, this deeper truth should create a feeling of liberation that allows one to stop pursuing unpleasant activities and work in the name of “meaning,” and to instead pursue the activities that one really enjoys (which often involves helping others). This is the “sunny” side of nihilism. As Syfret wrote:
“It’s this reading of nihilism that I think about when considering an alternative impression of a life without meaning. Sunny nihilism breaks away from the previous fixation on destruction by viewing pointlessness as a chance to breathe and think. Ultimately serving as a blank page, a chance to enjoy the moment, the present, the chaos, and the luck of being alive at all.”
This attitude even applies to love. As Syfret explains:
“The instinct to love is embedded in our bodies and brains. It informs and influences what it means to be human. Like jobs, it has value, even if it doesn’t have meaning.”
A few pages later, she writes:
“I know that the feelings of happiness my body produces when my partner is near are physiologically real; other preoccupations—my desire for love tokens, total understanding, and endless bliss—are inventions. Some created by me (notions of what I want my life to be), some created by others (visions of what a “correct” life is). By separating the two concepts I can feel the former more fully and dismiss the latter.”
We can see from all of this that nihilism, in its rejection of cosmic significance, can paradoxically make our actual moment-to-moment experience more significant. When we stop our incessant pursuit of meaning, we can begin to embrace the present moment and revel in the miraculous proposition of being alive in the first place.
Think about it: Do we really need to believe that humans are on a special cosmic mission to enjoy the feelings of love, friendship, and pleasurable activities? The answer seems to be no, and further, that getting caught up in philosophical or religious nonsense can actually impede our everyday enjoyment. This was actually one of Nietzsche’s arguments. As Syfret wrote:
“Ironically, Nietzsche felt our will to believe was deeply nihilistic. He argues that religion didn’t enrich life, but soothed by offering an escape from it. Viewed like this, one could argue that the suggestion we toil on Earth in exchange for an afterlife or other future redemption dismisses the value of life as it exists right now.”
So it is the religious that are, in a sense, deeply nihilistic, in that they view everyday existence as an ultimately inconsequential task one has to simply endure on their way to an afterlife that has an exclusive claim to meaningfulness. The problem is, of course, that if an afterlife doesn’t exist, the religious have devalued and wasted their one life in pursuit of an illusion.
Despite the cogency of Syfret’s arguments—and the fact that I found myself agreeing with many of her points—I nonetheless have no plans to go around calling myself a nihilist. Part of the reason is the historical baggage associated with the term. But it’s more than that.
Syfret is correct to point out our ultimate cosmic insignificance, and trying to fill our lives with meaning at this level is, in a sense, delusional. But whereas there is no cosmic meaning, I wouldn’t go so far as to say that we can’t find meaning in our everyday interactions and experiences. Syfret says as much in the book, so it makes you wonder if she’s stretching the definition of nihilism into something unrecognizable.
Part of the problem seems to be that Syfret is conflating these two aspects of meaning. Cosmic meaning doesn’t exist. But I think that many of our pursuits can be said to have meaning in a more mundane sense. For example, if, through our work, we can bring pleasure to others, or we can reduce suffering in some way, I would call that activity meaningful, not in a cosmic sense, but in a humanistic sense. Nihilism—with its overemphasis on meaninglessness—just doesn’t feel like the right term to describe this orientation towards life. A nihilistic humanist (which it appears Syfret is) just seems like a contradiction of terms.
Besides, better alternatives are available. A host of life philosophies—Stoicism, humanism, existentialism, epicureanism, and Zen Buddhism—all, in their own way, emphasize the present moment, human flourishing, and the freedom to create one’s own meaning without inventing false narratives of cosmic meaning (Ok, some aspects of Stoicism may do this). But the point is, if you want to build an ethical disposition based on mindfulness and appreciation of the present moment, other life philosophies seem infinitely more appealing.
Some might object that the Stoics did believe in cosmic significance. In some sense, they’d be right. But the Stoics also placed the highest value on the development of virtue, the promotion of the common good, and the focus on the present moment. Since Syfret is altering the traditional definition of nihilism anyway, it seems like an easier task to just adopt Stoicism while dropping the parts about cosmic significance.
In fact, if you read the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius, the book is filled with examples of him contemplating his own cosmic insignificance as a means to better endure his own hardships. As Aurelius wrote in Book VI of Meditations:
“Asia and Europe are corners in the Universe; every sea, a drop in the Universe; Mount Athos, a clod of earth in the Universe; every instant of time, a pin-prick of eternity. All things are petty, easily changed, vanishing away.”
Additionally, when she’s not writing like a Stoic, if you didn’t know any better you’d think Syfret was writing a book about existentialism. Consider this quote from the book:
“To resist that urge to grab onto something [superficially meaningful in the cosmic sense], but rather to face the infinite pointlessness of our lives, joys, anguish, and existence, is horrifying to many. It casts us totally adrift, alone. But it also marks us as completely free.”
This might as well have been written by Sartre. With Syfret’s emphasis on creating your own meaning by pursuing the pleasures of everyday life, being mindful, and helping others and your community, she seems like she’s advocating for a mix of existentialism, epicureanism, humanism, and Zen Buddhism. So why focus so much on the eliminative aspect of nihilism when there is a more direct route to the positive aspects of her philosophy? And do we really care about labels? Why not just select among the best aspects of each philosophy?
Despite these issues—and the fact that I don’t personally consider the book to be a successful defense of nihilism—the ideas presented will likely act as a wake-up call to others who find themselves placing too much emphasis and meaning on superficial things.
Ultimately, despite what term you wish to use, the message is the same: too many of us fail to appreciate our own existence precisely for what it is. As Syfret wrote, in this Richard Dawkins-esque entry:
“The thing was, from what I could glean, it seemed pretty wild that I existed at all. The fact that my parents decided to have sex on some random day in 1987, at the instant the sperm and egg that made me were feeling particularly energized, allowing me to win the lottery of conception, already seemed significant. Add to that the luck of surviving birth and the near decade that followed. I wasn’t sure why anyone needed to complicate things further; my very presence seemed complicated and miraculous enough.”
As Dawkins himself wrote: “The chances of each of us coming into existence are infinitesimally small, and even though we shall all die some day, we should count ourselves fantastically lucky to get our decades in the sun.”
This doesn’t sound very nihilistic to me.
Further Reading
Earlier I suggested that better alternatives to nihilism, even sunny nihilism, are available; here are my favorite titles covering these alternative life philosophies:
Stoicism
- A Guide to the Good Life: The Ancient Art of Stoic Joy
- The Practicing Stoic: A Philosophical User's Manual
Epicureanism
- How to Be an Epicurean: The Ancient Art of Living Well
Existentialism
- At the Existentialist Café: Freedom, Being, and Apricot Cocktails with Jean-Paul Sartre, Simone de Beauvoir, Albert Camus, Martin Heidegger, Maurice Merleau-Ponty and Others
Humanism
- The God Argument: The Case against Religion and for Humanism
- What It Means to Be Moral: Why Religion Is Not Necessary for Living an Ethical Life
Zen Buddhism
- The Way of Zen
- Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind: 50th Anniversary Edition
So writing a book defending nihilism—no matter how many optimistic-sounding adjectives you place in front of it—is a tall order. In fact, it would probably be easier to ditch the term entirely and either invent a new one (like how some authors now use “progressive capitalism” in place of socialism) or, in this case, use a readily available close alternative: existentialism.
But Melbourne-based writer Wendy Syfret isn’t messing around with terminology; she’s sticking with nihilism all the way. In The Sunny Nihilist: A Declaration of the Pleasure of Pointlessness, Syfret takes on the unenviable task of making nihilism seem like something pleasant and worth adopting as an orientation towards life. It’s a formidable task—some might even say a meaningless one—but let’s give her the benefit of the doubt and see where it takes us.
First of all, we should recognize that complex philosophies cannot be captured in a single word. Nihilism is not one thing; rather, it is better thought of as a loose set of beliefs and doctrines that can be applied to various aspects of life in numerous ways. There are, as with any philosophical position, mild and extreme forms. So whereas a certain kind of nihilist might think that all life is worthless, that nothing can be known whatsoever, and that all systems should be destroyed, a more moderate nihilist may believe there is no objective morality beyond what humans invent but that this fact can be used as a tool for transcending the limitations and constraints of tradition to create a better world.
Syfret belongs to the latter category. Which tells you something about nihilism (her version, anyway) right off the bat: it has both a destructive or eliminative component but also a constructive component. The eliminative component can be taken to the extreme: i.e., believing that nothing has value, everything is pointless, and everything should be destroyed, bar none. This is the nihilism of our popular imagination and the reason why we collectively despise it.
But it’s not necessary to take things this far. Syfret’s nihilism is milder, and includes a constructive component. While Syfret would agree that meaning is an illusion, it’s not a valueless illusion. There may be no objective morality, but the moral codes we’ve created are valuable because, as social animals, we care deeply about others for their own sake and because we care about how others perceive us (at least among non-psychopaths). Nihilism (Syfret’s version) simply states that morality doesn’t need to be made more complicated than this by, for example, inventing gods or pretending we’re all on some critically important historical or cosmic mission. Morality may be cosmically meaningless, but it isn’t valueless among empathetic human beings that are part of a community.
But this begs the question: Does this general recognition of cosmic meaninglessness make us worse people? The opposite, actually. Once we realize that we are not the center of the universe—that “one day we’ll be dead and no one will remember us anyway”—we can drop our hyper-individualistic, selfish attitudes and simply enjoy the simple pleasures life has to offer in the company of others. Without so much emphasis on our own self-importance, we can direct that energy towards helping others, our communities, and perhaps even the world at large.
As Syfret reminds us, we perpetually toil away to pursue “meaningful” work thinking we will achieve some form of immortality in the process. But even if we were to become rich and famous, and remembered for a few generations after we die, we won’t be around to see it or enjoy it, so what could it really matter? We’ll all be forgotten eventually.
This revelation makes one realize that their life truly is, in the cosmic sense, meaningless. But rather than causing despair, this deeper truth should create a feeling of liberation that allows one to stop pursuing unpleasant activities and work in the name of “meaning,” and to instead pursue the activities that one really enjoys (which often involves helping others). This is the “sunny” side of nihilism. As Syfret wrote:
“It’s this reading of nihilism that I think about when considering an alternative impression of a life without meaning. Sunny nihilism breaks away from the previous fixation on destruction by viewing pointlessness as a chance to breathe and think. Ultimately serving as a blank page, a chance to enjoy the moment, the present, the chaos, and the luck of being alive at all.”
This attitude even applies to love. As Syfret explains:
“The instinct to love is embedded in our bodies and brains. It informs and influences what it means to be human. Like jobs, it has value, even if it doesn’t have meaning.”
A few pages later, she writes:
“I know that the feelings of happiness my body produces when my partner is near are physiologically real; other preoccupations—my desire for love tokens, total understanding, and endless bliss—are inventions. Some created by me (notions of what I want my life to be), some created by others (visions of what a “correct” life is). By separating the two concepts I can feel the former more fully and dismiss the latter.”
We can see from all of this that nihilism, in its rejection of cosmic significance, can paradoxically make our actual moment-to-moment experience more significant. When we stop our incessant pursuit of meaning, we can begin to embrace the present moment and revel in the miraculous proposition of being alive in the first place.
Think about it: Do we really need to believe that humans are on a special cosmic mission to enjoy the feelings of love, friendship, and pleasurable activities? The answer seems to be no, and further, that getting caught up in philosophical or religious nonsense can actually impede our everyday enjoyment. This was actually one of Nietzsche’s arguments. As Syfret wrote:
“Ironically, Nietzsche felt our will to believe was deeply nihilistic. He argues that religion didn’t enrich life, but soothed by offering an escape from it. Viewed like this, one could argue that the suggestion we toil on Earth in exchange for an afterlife or other future redemption dismisses the value of life as it exists right now.”
So it is the religious that are, in a sense, deeply nihilistic, in that they view everyday existence as an ultimately inconsequential task one has to simply endure on their way to an afterlife that has an exclusive claim to meaningfulness. The problem is, of course, that if an afterlife doesn’t exist, the religious have devalued and wasted their one life in pursuit of an illusion.
Despite the cogency of Syfret’s arguments—and the fact that I found myself agreeing with many of her points—I nonetheless have no plans to go around calling myself a nihilist. Part of the reason is the historical baggage associated with the term. But it’s more than that.
Syfret is correct to point out our ultimate cosmic insignificance, and trying to fill our lives with meaning at this level is, in a sense, delusional. But whereas there is no cosmic meaning, I wouldn’t go so far as to say that we can’t find meaning in our everyday interactions and experiences. Syfret says as much in the book, so it makes you wonder if she’s stretching the definition of nihilism into something unrecognizable.
Part of the problem seems to be that Syfret is conflating these two aspects of meaning. Cosmic meaning doesn’t exist. But I think that many of our pursuits can be said to have meaning in a more mundane sense. For example, if, through our work, we can bring pleasure to others, or we can reduce suffering in some way, I would call that activity meaningful, not in a cosmic sense, but in a humanistic sense. Nihilism—with its overemphasis on meaninglessness—just doesn’t feel like the right term to describe this orientation towards life. A nihilistic humanist (which it appears Syfret is) just seems like a contradiction of terms.
Besides, better alternatives are available. A host of life philosophies—Stoicism, humanism, existentialism, epicureanism, and Zen Buddhism—all, in their own way, emphasize the present moment, human flourishing, and the freedom to create one’s own meaning without inventing false narratives of cosmic meaning (Ok, some aspects of Stoicism may do this). But the point is, if you want to build an ethical disposition based on mindfulness and appreciation of the present moment, other life philosophies seem infinitely more appealing.
Some might object that the Stoics did believe in cosmic significance. In some sense, they’d be right. But the Stoics also placed the highest value on the development of virtue, the promotion of the common good, and the focus on the present moment. Since Syfret is altering the traditional definition of nihilism anyway, it seems like an easier task to just adopt Stoicism while dropping the parts about cosmic significance.
In fact, if you read the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius, the book is filled with examples of him contemplating his own cosmic insignificance as a means to better endure his own hardships. As Aurelius wrote in Book VI of Meditations:
“Asia and Europe are corners in the Universe; every sea, a drop in the Universe; Mount Athos, a clod of earth in the Universe; every instant of time, a pin-prick of eternity. All things are petty, easily changed, vanishing away.”
Additionally, when she’s not writing like a Stoic, if you didn’t know any better you’d think Syfret was writing a book about existentialism. Consider this quote from the book:
“To resist that urge to grab onto something [superficially meaningful in the cosmic sense], but rather to face the infinite pointlessness of our lives, joys, anguish, and existence, is horrifying to many. It casts us totally adrift, alone. But it also marks us as completely free.”
This might as well have been written by Sartre. With Syfret’s emphasis on creating your own meaning by pursuing the pleasures of everyday life, being mindful, and helping others and your community, she seems like she’s advocating for a mix of existentialism, epicureanism, humanism, and Zen Buddhism. So why focus so much on the eliminative aspect of nihilism when there is a more direct route to the positive aspects of her philosophy? And do we really care about labels? Why not just select among the best aspects of each philosophy?
Despite these issues—and the fact that I don’t personally consider the book to be a successful defense of nihilism—the ideas presented will likely act as a wake-up call to others who find themselves placing too much emphasis and meaning on superficial things.
Ultimately, despite what term you wish to use, the message is the same: too many of us fail to appreciate our own existence precisely for what it is. As Syfret wrote, in this Richard Dawkins-esque entry:
“The thing was, from what I could glean, it seemed pretty wild that I existed at all. The fact that my parents decided to have sex on some random day in 1987, at the instant the sperm and egg that made me were feeling particularly energized, allowing me to win the lottery of conception, already seemed significant. Add to that the luck of surviving birth and the near decade that followed. I wasn’t sure why anyone needed to complicate things further; my very presence seemed complicated and miraculous enough.”
As Dawkins himself wrote: “The chances of each of us coming into existence are infinitesimally small, and even though we shall all die some day, we should count ourselves fantastically lucky to get our decades in the sun.”
This doesn’t sound very nihilistic to me.
Further Reading
Earlier I suggested that better alternatives to nihilism, even sunny nihilism, are available; here are my favorite titles covering these alternative life philosophies:
Stoicism
- A Guide to the Good Life: The Ancient Art of Stoic Joy
- The Practicing Stoic: A Philosophical User's Manual
Epicureanism
- How to Be an Epicurean: The Ancient Art of Living Well
Existentialism
- At the Existentialist Café: Freedom, Being, and Apricot Cocktails with Jean-Paul Sartre, Simone de Beauvoir, Albert Camus, Martin Heidegger, Maurice Merleau-Ponty and Others
Humanism
- The God Argument: The Case against Religion and for Humanism
- What It Means to Be Moral: Why Religion Is Not Necessary for Living an Ethical Life
Zen Buddhism
- The Way of Zen
- Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind: 50th Anniversary Edition
August 8, 2021
For any burnt-out millennial rethinking their entire life path during yet another rolling pandemic lockdown, this book is a comforting reminder to jump head-first into the void and find the joy. Loved it!
July 27, 2022
You know what must suck? Come up with a incredibly funny (if you have a dark sense of humor) and catchy book title, and then have to twist hundreds of years of philosophical thought into a pretzel to write a book around it. It's a freaking brilliant title. Unfortunately, she pretty much had to redefine the classical concept of nihilism to get it to fit. Did it work? Umm...not fully. What she calls "sunny nihilism" is more like just not being a conceited, self-absorbed ass because you're not nearly as important as you think you are.
While the author does go into some basic history of philosophical concepts and some observational sociology, most of the book is her opinion about how all this relates to her life. For someone who talks a lot about how insignificant she is in the grand scheme of things, she talks about herself a lot. It's entertaining and usually interesting, but you have to appreciate the touch of irony there.
I liked this as well as I did only because she's preaching to the choir with a lot of this. Books are always a little more enjoyable if the confirm your own bias. Sad, but true. I'm with the guy early in the book who pleaded, "Why does everything have to be A Thing?" To quote SNL's Dan Aykroyd as Sigmund Freud (1976), "Sometimes a banana is just a banana, Anna."
While the author does go into some basic history of philosophical concepts and some observational sociology, most of the book is her opinion about how all this relates to her life. For someone who talks a lot about how insignificant she is in the grand scheme of things, she talks about herself a lot. It's entertaining and usually interesting, but you have to appreciate the touch of irony there.
I liked this as well as I did only because she's preaching to the choir with a lot of this. Books are always a little more enjoyable if the confirm your own bias. Sad, but true. I'm with the guy early in the book who pleaded, "Why does everything have to be A Thing?" To quote SNL's Dan Aykroyd as Sigmund Freud (1976), "Sometimes a banana is just a banana, Anna."
December 4, 2021
A very easy read, Syfret has amassed what reads like a series of blog posts sharing her musings on life. She exposes so many foolish contemporary ideas about where to find meaning, but concludes that a failure to provide ultimate meaning renders something completely meaningless - and fills the book with similar overreactions. Her exclusion of religion is on the basis of crass misunderstanding and extreme examples which make for easy pickings. She has articulated a worldview that suits modern sensibilities, and her prose will appeal to many for its illusion of wisdom; but I found it often frustrating and lacking honest depth. Having said that, I'm sure I'll use many quotes for sermon illustrations!
December 14, 2025
Nihilism, viewed as a weird thing, where indeed it is, but does it have to be a bad thing? What's the meaning if it was weird or not!
(Okay bad joke)
A term used a lot here 'sunny nihilism' is not the best, Imagine me saying 'meaningful absurdisim'.
~~~
Your life is yours, of course, yours to make the meaning out of it, and most of the time this meaning isn't really a 'meaning' to other people. So the first chapter questions if we even need this meaning, why would we make sure to understand why we do this, do that?.. like, brush our teeth in the morning breeze -listen I didn't reach a good level of eloquence yet- the author proposed: maybe we have to let go of suffering the meaning of every little act we do in our daily lives and just live, whole heartedly I agreed.
On the other hand, she had to SCREAM about 2020 covid every single PAGE! WE GET IT! 2020 WAS HARD, GIRL, WE WERE ALIVE!!
She had to talk about how her mom, neighbors, boyfriend, all were searching for meaning in that period and the book circled about) >nihilism is good>covid was hard>my mom.., it kept going about these topics for the last 90 pages at least.
A book discussing a big topic that is misunderstood by most of people should be DEALING with the topic itself more, I get the author tried to show us her point of view and experiences, but unfortunately the book failed discussing the core of nihilism and explore how we could view it more positively in our lives.
But definitely it had great arguments and amazing chapters, give it a shot, or maybe don't, dosen't matter.
(Okay I won't joke again.)
3 stars ★★★.
(Okay bad joke)
A term used a lot here 'sunny nihilism' is not the best, Imagine me saying 'meaningful absurdisim'.
~~~
Your life is yours, of course, yours to make the meaning out of it, and most of the time this meaning isn't really a 'meaning' to other people. So the first chapter questions if we even need this meaning, why would we make sure to understand why we do this, do that?.. like, brush our teeth in the morning breeze -listen I didn't reach a good level of eloquence yet- the author proposed: maybe we have to let go of suffering the meaning of every little act we do in our daily lives and just live, whole heartedly I agreed.
On the other hand, she had to SCREAM about 2020 covid every single PAGE! WE GET IT! 2020 WAS HARD, GIRL, WE WERE ALIVE!!
She had to talk about how her mom, neighbors, boyfriend, all were searching for meaning in that period and the book circled about) >nihilism is good>covid was hard>my mom.., it kept going about these topics for the last 90 pages at least.
A book discussing a big topic that is misunderstood by most of people should be DEALING with the topic itself more, I get the author tried to show us her point of view and experiences, but unfortunately the book failed discussing the core of nihilism and explore how we could view it more positively in our lives.
But definitely it had great arguments and amazing chapters, give it a shot, or maybe don't, dosen't matter.
(Okay I won't joke again.)
3 stars ★★★.
January 9, 2022
Thanks to Libro.fm for the chance to listen to an ALC of this book!
While it might seem like a given I wouldn't enjoy a book about Nihilism as a Christian, I thought I'd give this book a chance as I quite enjoy philosophy and learning about the beliefs or experiences of others. I found myself agreeing with some of what the author said in the beginning of her book, regarding our modern culture's need to make the most of every moment and infuse meaning into the mundane. However, I expected to learn more about the philosophy of Nihilism itself. Rather, I found the author glazed over it completely and instead wanted to inject readers with her perceived stereotypes of Millenials and Gen-Zers, her Liberal politics, and endless rants about the "evils" of Capitalism. Instead of learning anything new, I thought this book to be a reflection of everything I hate about the modern world. It displayed the lack of desire of most young people to do anything but vegetate with a phone in hand and regurgitate the Leftist ideals that are wrecking our current society. There wasn't much depth to the writing and instead, it left me feeling quite depressed and angry, as opposed to "Sunny". After the last two years, I think most of us have had enough anger and depression for a lifetime. Honestly, this was probably the perfect book to end crappy 2021 with. *shrugs*
While it might seem like a given I wouldn't enjoy a book about Nihilism as a Christian, I thought I'd give this book a chance as I quite enjoy philosophy and learning about the beliefs or experiences of others. I found myself agreeing with some of what the author said in the beginning of her book, regarding our modern culture's need to make the most of every moment and infuse meaning into the mundane. However, I expected to learn more about the philosophy of Nihilism itself. Rather, I found the author glazed over it completely and instead wanted to inject readers with her perceived stereotypes of Millenials and Gen-Zers, her Liberal politics, and endless rants about the "evils" of Capitalism. Instead of learning anything new, I thought this book to be a reflection of everything I hate about the modern world. It displayed the lack of desire of most young people to do anything but vegetate with a phone in hand and regurgitate the Leftist ideals that are wrecking our current society. There wasn't much depth to the writing and instead, it left me feeling quite depressed and angry, as opposed to "Sunny". After the last two years, I think most of us have had enough anger and depression for a lifetime. Honestly, this was probably the perfect book to end crappy 2021 with. *shrugs*
September 8, 2021
I thought it was OK but a bit light weight. I was surprised she didn't delve into Buddhist thought e.g concepts of no-self and impermanence for instance, and into other writers who've touched on these issues e.g. Llewelyn Powys, who observed poignantly "Of course if people endeavour to graft their own particular ideas of what life ought to be upon life as it is, they begin to sigh and grow grave immediately. Once however let a man come to understand "that nothing really matters," that there is not particular purpose in our corner of the universe, that the earth has but to circle the sun some seventy times and he is gone, and a new acquiescence will be born into his soul, an acquiescence which will give him time and taste to look around him and let the golden sand run through his fingers how wistfully!" in the book Confessions of Two Brothers (1916)
July 29, 2024
3rd read:
This is one of my favorite books when I get in certain moods and worry too much about the future. It was my third time reading it, and it’s just as great. Syfret’s argument is that nihilism isn’t all doom and gloom. When you realize how little things matter, it can actually give you some serenity and clear your thinking. She also discusses how it helps us be more mindful in the moment and be grateful for what we have in our lives. As per usual, it lifted me up, and I’m so glad she wrote this book.
2nd read:
I usually don’t read the same book twice in a year, but I hit a rough patch of depression and decided to give this one another read. As much crap as nihilism gets, it’s what pulls me back to reality in a good way and improves my mood. Wendy Syfret was the first one to really shine a light on that for me with this book. She explains how there are different types of nihilism, and it doesn’t have to be this thing that sends people down some terrible dark path. When you realize how little everything matters, it’s really freeing, and Wendy highlights that perfectly in this book. While she mainly started using nihilism for her anxiety, it helps me with depression, and I’m glad this book exists.
1st read:
No matter what I write in this review, I won’t be able to do this book justice. At the time of finishing this book, we’re only 24 days into 2022, and Wendy Syfret may have written my favorite book of the year. It’ll definitely be hard to beat it. But why is it so good? Well, as a recovering drug addict and alcoholic, my mental health is my top priority, and something that’s greatly improved my mental health and overall well-being is realizing how little everything matters. When I discovered nihilism, I started researching the hell out of it, and all I saw was these negative takes about how depressing it is or turns people into these numb zombies. But lately, I’ve been discovering books like this one that show how nihilism can make your life awesome.
Wendy Syfret starts the book by sharing her experience in marketing and noticing how everything is trying to brand itself as having some way of bringing more meaning to your life. She also shares how realizing at a young age how insignificant she is in the grand scheme of the universe brought some comfort to her when she felt anxious. From there, she explains the misconceptions about nihilism and lays the foundation for how it can improve your life. Each chapter discusses a different topic that makes a lot of us miserable and how we can change our perspective on it. She covers our relationships to work, love, a higher purpose, and much more. She even has a chapter about the dark side of nihilism and how people have used it as an excuse for some awful stuff. But at the end of the day, the “sunny” version of nihilism is extremely freeing.
Wendy is an incredible writer, and she has a ton of references to various books, articles, and other writings throughout the book that I was writing down as I read it. This book is one of a kind, and I can only hope it gets the attention that it deserves.
This is one of my favorite books when I get in certain moods and worry too much about the future. It was my third time reading it, and it’s just as great. Syfret’s argument is that nihilism isn’t all doom and gloom. When you realize how little things matter, it can actually give you some serenity and clear your thinking. She also discusses how it helps us be more mindful in the moment and be grateful for what we have in our lives. As per usual, it lifted me up, and I’m so glad she wrote this book.
2nd read:
I usually don’t read the same book twice in a year, but I hit a rough patch of depression and decided to give this one another read. As much crap as nihilism gets, it’s what pulls me back to reality in a good way and improves my mood. Wendy Syfret was the first one to really shine a light on that for me with this book. She explains how there are different types of nihilism, and it doesn’t have to be this thing that sends people down some terrible dark path. When you realize how little everything matters, it’s really freeing, and Wendy highlights that perfectly in this book. While she mainly started using nihilism for her anxiety, it helps me with depression, and I’m glad this book exists.
1st read:
No matter what I write in this review, I won’t be able to do this book justice. At the time of finishing this book, we’re only 24 days into 2022, and Wendy Syfret may have written my favorite book of the year. It’ll definitely be hard to beat it. But why is it so good? Well, as a recovering drug addict and alcoholic, my mental health is my top priority, and something that’s greatly improved my mental health and overall well-being is realizing how little everything matters. When I discovered nihilism, I started researching the hell out of it, and all I saw was these negative takes about how depressing it is or turns people into these numb zombies. But lately, I’ve been discovering books like this one that show how nihilism can make your life awesome.
Wendy Syfret starts the book by sharing her experience in marketing and noticing how everything is trying to brand itself as having some way of bringing more meaning to your life. She also shares how realizing at a young age how insignificant she is in the grand scheme of the universe brought some comfort to her when she felt anxious. From there, she explains the misconceptions about nihilism and lays the foundation for how it can improve your life. Each chapter discusses a different topic that makes a lot of us miserable and how we can change our perspective on it. She covers our relationships to work, love, a higher purpose, and much more. She even has a chapter about the dark side of nihilism and how people have used it as an excuse for some awful stuff. But at the end of the day, the “sunny” version of nihilism is extremely freeing.
Wendy is an incredible writer, and she has a ton of references to various books, articles, and other writings throughout the book that I was writing down as I read it. This book is one of a kind, and I can only hope it gets the attention that it deserves.
May 9, 2022
stare into the ✨void✨
August 16, 2021
Wendy has put into words the slow epiphany I have experienced over the last two years as a result of being in my 30s, Covid-19 and the realisation I no longer wanted to be a working bee. Growing up in this world, many of us buy into the ideals of how to live our lives to make it worthwhile when those ideals no longer serve us. This book offers a refreshing view to the age old question of 'what does it all mean?' and is a funny and liberating read.
October 17, 2023
The premise of this book is important, and is conspicuously missing from most of the literature on nihilism (looking at you Nihilism). In particular: existential nihilism, which is not a full guide on how to live one's life but the premise that nothing really matters, can be an enormous psychological relief to some people. Far from driving the thinker to destruction, it can can provide her with permission to relax.
I've thought the same for a long time. Now with this book, it seems to ring true to at least one other grind-too-hard product of American work culture and the Christian religion. That alone made this book a pleasant read, although I am not a Millennial office worker in America, and a whole lot of the book makes it very clear that it's written for those people by one of those people. The book doesn't lie about what it is, though. Disappointed as I might be that it wasn't a more rigorous work of philosophy, it says it is "a declaration of the pleasures of pointlessness", and declaring it what it does. For this alone it gets three stars.
Syfret doesn't stop at nihilism, but rather proposes that it be used as permission to enjoy life. In valuing this, she seems to ultimately be hedonist or utilitarian, though she stops well short of using either of those words. There is also a fair amount of thought bordering on Buddhism, but there's no chapter on Buddhism either.
The author is oddly soft on religion -- an atheist herself, she discusses that fact and her reasoning before adding "But that dismisses the comfort that believing in something can provide. ...We want to believe our suffering isn't in vain -- that it has value and is drawing us toward something worthwhile. I'm aware of the callousness, the smugness, of belittling that." She declares herself glad that her mother is religious. This, although she herself derives comfort also from nihilism and has written a whole book intending to declare and illustrate that fact? The reader wonders why, and only "utilitarianism" comes close to a compelling answer. To be specific, she values comfort, and if her mother gets it from believing in myths, she is okay with that.
And one more missed opportunity: she says about nihilism that "ultimately it requires a lot of thinking about death." Yet... there isn't much on the topic of death here. A quick quote from Epictetus, an admission that she sometimes fears death too, and we are sent on our way.
Some quotes I liked:
In closing, here's a hint at a mystery I would love to see studied one day:
I agree, and am with the author on this one. So... what makes the difference? Is there some identifiable group that feels more relief than anxiety at the thought that there's no great scorecard in the sky? Is there a difference between those on different parts of the political spectrum, or does it have to do more with the pressure under which people were raised, or a correlation with one of the Big 5 personality traits, or is it something else? In my own life when I was growing up, I felt the biggest wash of relief when I thought -- for the first time -- that maybe my religion wasn't true, that maybe all the extra rules I was following and all my attempts to police my own thoughts just weren't necessary because at the end I would not be judged, that maybe I'd just die peacefully. However, I quickly found the same thinking helped me relax about grades, so I don't think it was only that background that primed me for the correlation. Someday, a more scholarly work than this one might give us all some clues.
I've thought the same for a long time. Now with this book, it seems to ring true to at least one other grind-too-hard product of American work culture and the Christian religion. That alone made this book a pleasant read, although I am not a Millennial office worker in America, and a whole lot of the book makes it very clear that it's written for those people by one of those people. The book doesn't lie about what it is, though. Disappointed as I might be that it wasn't a more rigorous work of philosophy, it says it is "a declaration of the pleasures of pointlessness", and declaring it what it does. For this alone it gets three stars.
Syfret doesn't stop at nihilism, but rather proposes that it be used as permission to enjoy life. In valuing this, she seems to ultimately be hedonist or utilitarian, though she stops well short of using either of those words. There is also a fair amount of thought bordering on Buddhism, but there's no chapter on Buddhism either.
The author is oddly soft on religion -- an atheist herself, she discusses that fact and her reasoning before adding "But that dismisses the comfort that believing in something can provide. ...We want to believe our suffering isn't in vain -- that it has value and is drawing us toward something worthwhile. I'm aware of the callousness, the smugness, of belittling that." She declares herself glad that her mother is religious. This, although she herself derives comfort also from nihilism and has written a whole book intending to declare and illustrate that fact? The reader wonders why, and only "utilitarianism" comes close to a compelling answer. To be specific, she values comfort, and if her mother gets it from believing in myths, she is okay with that.
And one more missed opportunity: she says about nihilism that "ultimately it requires a lot of thinking about death." Yet... there isn't much on the topic of death here. A quick quote from Epictetus, an admission that she sometimes fears death too, and we are sent on our way.
Some quotes I liked:
To wish for meaning is to be devastated by its absence. To accept that life is meaningless but still full of pleasures that are better to exist for than not exist for, to me is personally a better bet. You can only fret over the lack of meaning if you allow yourself to buy into the myth of it all.
I glance around and see for myself: What right now is beautiful, tasty, exciting, terrifying, unknowable? What makes my life feel precious, despite knowing it is ultimately pointless?
...we see a new reality take form. One with lower stakes, pleasures at hand, simpler answers, and achievable goals. Meaning will never be attained, because it doesn't exist. But respect, care, delight, space, a phone call with a loved one, an action to help another person are available right now.
These days I ask myself different questions about work. Instead of, What does it mean? I try, Am I well? Do I have what I need? How about those I love?
In closing, here's a hint at a mystery I would love to see studied one day:
Nihilism to me has been a revelation, a space where I can finally breathe. For others, the vacuum of meaning is crushing, a gaping hole so chilling, it leaves them vulnerable to exploitation, or invites them to become the exploiters themselves.
I agree, and am with the author on this one. So... what makes the difference? Is there some identifiable group that feels more relief than anxiety at the thought that there's no great scorecard in the sky? Is there a difference between those on different parts of the political spectrum, or does it have to do more with the pressure under which people were raised, or a correlation with one of the Big 5 personality traits, or is it something else? In my own life when I was growing up, I felt the biggest wash of relief when I thought -- for the first time -- that maybe my religion wasn't true, that maybe all the extra rules I was following and all my attempts to police my own thoughts just weren't necessary because at the end I would not be judged, that maybe I'd just die peacefully. However, I quickly found the same thinking helped me relax about grades, so I don't think it was only that background that primed me for the correlation. Someday, a more scholarly work than this one might give us all some clues.
April 24, 2022
This book was largely pointless.
And that's almost a good thing.
As a book about nihilism, pointlessness is to be expected, I suppose. Any dissatisfaction I feel resides more within the "largely", than the "pointless".
First, though, Wendy Syfret is clearly a talented writer. Her first chapter is masterfully composed. She manages to tidily contain the way our modern world broadcasts a noisy and imposing pressure to find meaningfulness in an increasingly inane range of products and commodities. In a metaphor about cliche-emblazoned sandwhich boards, Syfret invites the reader into a deliciously subtle, countercultural superiority. We can all agree that ice-cream flavours are not the epicentre of meaning and connectedness.
Part of this book's "sunniness" comes from the author's ability to blend big ideas with personal experience, embedding them accessibly and relatably into a story of human experience.
As the book went on, personally, I became less enamoured. The place of conversational equality I'd found in her authorial tone faded. The language became a little more preachy and didactic.
I could understand and resonate with the author's desires to cast off the weight of expectation. The call to break free from the bonds of a dutiful and commoditised meaning-making, to bask in the freedom outside of others' frameworks of meaning is compelling. However, Syfret doesn't go all the way. Her views seem to be supported by a lattice of ideas and ideals which are not subjected to the same kind of skeptical interrogation. For example, while I would expect a nihilist to undermine the authority of political systems in general, Syfret decries only the political right and capitalist market structures. Though there is Nietschean disregard for religion, it is coupled with the cheery espousing of a near-religious respect for the sacred now, of individualism, and of nature.
I am grateful for Wendy Syfret's personal exploration of what nihilism has meant for her, but I would be hesitant to recommend the book. I don't think the well-referenced, deeply internet culture-centred philosophical lattice contained within is truly that nihilistic.
And that's almost a good thing.
As a book about nihilism, pointlessness is to be expected, I suppose. Any dissatisfaction I feel resides more within the "largely", than the "pointless".
First, though, Wendy Syfret is clearly a talented writer. Her first chapter is masterfully composed. She manages to tidily contain the way our modern world broadcasts a noisy and imposing pressure to find meaningfulness in an increasingly inane range of products and commodities. In a metaphor about cliche-emblazoned sandwhich boards, Syfret invites the reader into a deliciously subtle, countercultural superiority. We can all agree that ice-cream flavours are not the epicentre of meaning and connectedness.
Part of this book's "sunniness" comes from the author's ability to blend big ideas with personal experience, embedding them accessibly and relatably into a story of human experience.
As the book went on, personally, I became less enamoured. The place of conversational equality I'd found in her authorial tone faded. The language became a little more preachy and didactic.
I could understand and resonate with the author's desires to cast off the weight of expectation. The call to break free from the bonds of a dutiful and commoditised meaning-making, to bask in the freedom outside of others' frameworks of meaning is compelling. However, Syfret doesn't go all the way. Her views seem to be supported by a lattice of ideas and ideals which are not subjected to the same kind of skeptical interrogation. For example, while I would expect a nihilist to undermine the authority of political systems in general, Syfret decries only the political right and capitalist market structures. Though there is Nietschean disregard for religion, it is coupled with the cheery espousing of a near-religious respect for the sacred now, of individualism, and of nature.
I am grateful for Wendy Syfret's personal exploration of what nihilism has meant for her, but I would be hesitant to recommend the book. I don't think the well-referenced, deeply internet culture-centred philosophical lattice contained within is truly that nihilistic.
July 22, 2022
This audiobook caused my anxiety to rise. It’s directed to Gen-Zs and I’m a GenXer and it is quite obvious that we are living in two different worlds. Having fear over physical and emotional pain is different than having fear nobody likes you.
March 30, 2022
I’m definitely not the target audience but there was barely anything sunny about this. Very depressing.
December 24, 2024
Although this book took me a while to read due to its clunky language, it did enforce a strong point to me. This was to enjoy the now, accept there may be no overall meaning to life, but knowing you’re here in the universe as a result of a billion events coincidently occurring is enough of a point in itself.
October 15, 2021
Why I read it: Someone sent me an article by the author as an encouragement to accept the meaninglessness of life and enjoy it more that way. The article didn’t help me to embrace the idea, so I thought a book might.
How I liked it?
I’m not sure. It was easy to follow as author is quite good at using stories to convey her message. But I don’t think I grasped the point fully. And I felt there were some contradictions.
The main message as I understood it was:
People tend to seek meaning to make themselves feel better. In the past we had more firm and institutionalised sources of meaning, like religion. Now once they are crumbling, we turn to things like productivity and wellness in order to escape the void. But we should instead turn to the void and give it a good look. That should somehow open us up for enjoying little moments in life as well as dedicating ourselves to bigger goals like activism. And I just can’t align myself to that. I would very much like to enjoy the little moments, but then the anxiety comes (what if I don’t try hard enough at work and will lose it and be unable to support myself) and shifts my focus.
The activism thing felt a little contradicting. We should understand how meaningless and worthless our lives are and dedicate them to something bigger and more lasting (fights for ecology, equality etc.). But I think it is very easy to start feeding your ego on those activities instead of humbling yourself.
I liked the chapter about author’s obsession with work and how we start to think our time is so valuable and must be used only with the utmost efficiency that we start buying precooked meals and hiring cleaning ladies – as if the times of people providing us those services is less valuable. And maybe we would actually relax and enjoy life more if we left the space for cooking and other simple acts. It resonated with me deeply as I also use food delivery services to leave more time for my hobbies or studying etc. But I talked about this with several people and they mostly disagreed – some said there is nothing bad in making time for things you really like doing by buying some services you can afford. Others said you can still be stressed and anxious and thinking about work while cooking yourself dinner. I think those are valid points.
So I guess in conclusion the book offered interesting points to consider, but they didn’t seem to hold water very well. Plus I think it is meant for a very specific audience – those who have careers they can strive for achievements in and enough income to afford wellness products.
I might try to re-read it (instead of listening on audible) and see if the message gets through to me better.
How I liked it?
I’m not sure. It was easy to follow as author is quite good at using stories to convey her message. But I don’t think I grasped the point fully. And I felt there were some contradictions.
The main message as I understood it was:
People tend to seek meaning to make themselves feel better. In the past we had more firm and institutionalised sources of meaning, like religion. Now once they are crumbling, we turn to things like productivity and wellness in order to escape the void. But we should instead turn to the void and give it a good look. That should somehow open us up for enjoying little moments in life as well as dedicating ourselves to bigger goals like activism. And I just can’t align myself to that. I would very much like to enjoy the little moments, but then the anxiety comes (what if I don’t try hard enough at work and will lose it and be unable to support myself) and shifts my focus.
The activism thing felt a little contradicting. We should understand how meaningless and worthless our lives are and dedicate them to something bigger and more lasting (fights for ecology, equality etc.). But I think it is very easy to start feeding your ego on those activities instead of humbling yourself.
I liked the chapter about author’s obsession with work and how we start to think our time is so valuable and must be used only with the utmost efficiency that we start buying precooked meals and hiring cleaning ladies – as if the times of people providing us those services is less valuable. And maybe we would actually relax and enjoy life more if we left the space for cooking and other simple acts. It resonated with me deeply as I also use food delivery services to leave more time for my hobbies or studying etc. But I talked about this with several people and they mostly disagreed – some said there is nothing bad in making time for things you really like doing by buying some services you can afford. Others said you can still be stressed and anxious and thinking about work while cooking yourself dinner. I think those are valid points.
So I guess in conclusion the book offered interesting points to consider, but they didn’t seem to hold water very well. Plus I think it is meant for a very specific audience – those who have careers they can strive for achievements in and enough income to afford wellness products.
I might try to re-read it (instead of listening on audible) and see if the message gets through to me better.
February 6, 2022
This book made me feel how I feel when I think about space for too long. It's not a great one for people with anxiety, though depending on your POV, you could find a lot of relief from said anxiety with some techniques in here. The core of this book is convincing yourself to think larger - nothing matters, you won't be remembered longer than a few years after your death, you are small in a giant universe that will dissolve you to atoms sooner than you think.
My main issue is the book doesn't read as finished. The author admits the first run of drafts was a collection of ideas that needed a more cohesive structure to be an actual book. The repeating sentence structures & ideas come across as padding from an editor. Repeating themes can be important to drive home a point, but it was lost in this book.
The things I *did* like were the 'sunny' part of interpreting nihilism. There is a certain release in thinking of big life actions - a job interview, moving, a difficult conversation - as ultimately meaningless to take the pressure off yourself & give yourself the freedom to be braver than you normally would. I can see the appeal - but I imagine it would take long practice to reach the point where this type of thinking comes naturally. It mostly just makes me sad. There are lots of other ways to focus on the present & enjoy the small pleasures in life without the looming shadow of your own insignificance overpowering all thoughts.
My main issue is the book doesn't read as finished. The author admits the first run of drafts was a collection of ideas that needed a more cohesive structure to be an actual book. The repeating sentence structures & ideas come across as padding from an editor. Repeating themes can be important to drive home a point, but it was lost in this book.
The things I *did* like were the 'sunny' part of interpreting nihilism. There is a certain release in thinking of big life actions - a job interview, moving, a difficult conversation - as ultimately meaningless to take the pressure off yourself & give yourself the freedom to be braver than you normally would. I can see the appeal - but I imagine it would take long practice to reach the point where this type of thinking comes naturally. It mostly just makes me sad. There are lots of other ways to focus on the present & enjoy the small pleasures in life without the looming shadow of your own insignificance overpowering all thoughts.
June 11, 2022
I enjoyed the chapters focused on the unrealistic expectations we place on romantic love, the “myth” of meaningful work, and the counter-productivity of looking to individualism for meaning. The overall philosophy, however, felt half-baked, with the different sections lacking cohesion. The “pleasure of pointlessness” was continually touted, but this phrase just kept conjuring the image of hedonistic pursuits in my mind. I think I get the author’s intent - enjoying the little things, the here and now, and not getting caught up in “what it all means” - but given that hedonistic spiraling seems like an equally (if not more) likely result of nihilism, it felt like more explanation was warranted.
I think the overall development of the sunny nihilist worldview could have been strengthened by replacing some of the many repetitive passages that all paraphrased the same thing - “meaning does not exist, but rather than being terrifying, this can be liberating.” Each repetition made this feel less impactful. The other main qualm I had was that most of the author’s support was anecdotal, drawing primarily from her experience with her friend group, or just entirely nonexistent - assertions would be made and we would just have to accept them as readers.
I think the overall development of the sunny nihilist worldview could have been strengthened by replacing some of the many repetitive passages that all paraphrased the same thing - “meaning does not exist, but rather than being terrifying, this can be liberating.” Each repetition made this feel less impactful. The other main qualm I had was that most of the author’s support was anecdotal, drawing primarily from her experience with her friend group, or just entirely nonexistent - assertions would be made and we would just have to accept them as readers.
January 29, 2022
Yes but...
I like and agree with the premise that life is meaningless, as hard a concept as that is. But I kept saying to myself, there has to be more (my search for meaning perhaps?)
To say that life is meaningless so enjoy the moment, seems to come a bit from a place of privilege, when our stomachs are full and we have the type of worries or cares that can be calmed by remembering that life is meaningless. Another person's suffering is not meaningless to them and it can seem dismissive to suggest otherwise.
Another reaction that reading this brought out in me is that even with life being meaningless, we need something to fill the time between birth and death. To just be in the moment all the time seems to be a disservice to all the possibility of life.
"Life is meaningless, except for the meaning that you give it" resonates more with me and recognizing that everyone may choose a different focus for that meaning is my truth. But as the author is suggesting, no matter the focus, pop your head up every now and then and live in the moment, that's what I take from this book.
I like and agree with the premise that life is meaningless, as hard a concept as that is. But I kept saying to myself, there has to be more (my search for meaning perhaps?)
To say that life is meaningless so enjoy the moment, seems to come a bit from a place of privilege, when our stomachs are full and we have the type of worries or cares that can be calmed by remembering that life is meaningless. Another person's suffering is not meaningless to them and it can seem dismissive to suggest otherwise.
Another reaction that reading this brought out in me is that even with life being meaningless, we need something to fill the time between birth and death. To just be in the moment all the time seems to be a disservice to all the possibility of life.
"Life is meaningless, except for the meaning that you give it" resonates more with me and recognizing that everyone may choose a different focus for that meaning is my truth. But as the author is suggesting, no matter the focus, pop your head up every now and then and live in the moment, that's what I take from this book.
June 18, 2022
This book took me so long to finish because the writing was so clunky. I kept getting snapped out of the narrative as I read and reread sections that were just parachuted into the text without any finesse, stumbled over, then forgotten about altogether.
The parts of the books I liked best were when Syfret was writing smoothly, drawing on her own experiences or opinions. This is where her writing was the most confident and engaging.
But unfortunately the author constantly would insert vaguely relevant quotes or ideas, spending lines of text introducing the quote. And then abruptly abandon it. It reminded me of reading an undergraduate essay which included irrelevant quotes in order to meet the works cited or word limit requirement.
Syfret’s editor should have done a better job in guiding the author to cut down unnecessary quotes and references, and fit the real gems into the text more seamlessly.
The parts of the books I liked best were when Syfret was writing smoothly, drawing on her own experiences or opinions. This is where her writing was the most confident and engaging.
But unfortunately the author constantly would insert vaguely relevant quotes or ideas, spending lines of text introducing the quote. And then abruptly abandon it. It reminded me of reading an undergraduate essay which included irrelevant quotes in order to meet the works cited or word limit requirement.
Syfret’s editor should have done a better job in guiding the author to cut down unnecessary quotes and references, and fit the real gems into the text more seamlessly.
September 24, 2021
Do not buy
- I cannot fathom why did I pay 18 dollars for this (kindle version).
- If you read Nietzsche and know about him.
- You are well versed in nihilism.
- well versed in buddhism and/or meditation practice.
- if you know about stoicism, read about it, practice it.
- if you are a hedonist.
- if you do not feel special; and if you do and it causes you problems mentioned in the book, about meaning or lack of it just go and read "You are not so smart"by David McRaney - witty, funny and actually helps.
- if you think this book opens up some new philosophical venues.
- if you think this is self-help.
- and so on and on and on, ad nauseam.
Just, dont buy this book.
- I cannot fathom why did I pay 18 dollars for this (kindle version).
- If you read Nietzsche and know about him.
- You are well versed in nihilism.
- well versed in buddhism and/or meditation practice.
- if you know about stoicism, read about it, practice it.
- if you are a hedonist.
- if you do not feel special; and if you do and it causes you problems mentioned in the book, about meaning or lack of it just go and read "You are not so smart"by David McRaney - witty, funny and actually helps.
- if you think this book opens up some new philosophical venues.
- if you think this is self-help.
- and so on and on and on, ad nauseam.
Just, dont buy this book.
July 30, 2025
A really interesting read for me — validating to see a lot of my similar thought processes analyzed on paper. The style was a somewhat odd blend of personal essay, self-help, and research; the main focus was on explaining the author’s worldview, but it tried to make generalizations and address counter-arguments, which could’ve been explored more at times. Would love to have a conversation with her!
September 26, 2023
What frustrated me was Syfret’s assertion that there is no meaning or authority while simultaneously crafting a moral code of social activism. (Is there a problem with such activism? No. Is there any logical reasoning to reach that conclusion within this philosophical framework? Also no.) It’s merely shoehorning the author’s personal feelings with little to no proper examination.
November 9, 2022
An extended think piece on a worldview more and more people are turning to, especially the college-age generation from my personal experience. As they say in BoJack Horseman: "The universe is a cruel, uncaring void. The key to being happy isn't a search for meaning. It's to just keep yourself busy with unimportant nonsense, and eventually, you'll be dead."
Syfret claims that sunny nihilism is a new take on the more commonly perceived dark and depressing nihilism of the likes of Friedrich Nietzsche and Albert Camus; however, this sure sounds a lot like shades of what some of the Corinthians were experiencing in the 1st century:
"If the dead are not raised, “Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die.” (1 Corinthians 15:32)
Similar to fellow atheist (though not a nihilist) David Foster Wallace, Syfret accurately speaks of how full faith in romantic love or your work will crush you. Better to just enjoy the ride of life and not try to find meaning in it. You'll just be disappointed in the end anyway when all goes black.
I believe Christ raised from the dead, so I believe in a purpose and meaning greater than our present realities; but, overall found this to be a fascinating and insightful read on the worldview of sunny nihilism.
Syfret claims that sunny nihilism is a new take on the more commonly perceived dark and depressing nihilism of the likes of Friedrich Nietzsche and Albert Camus; however, this sure sounds a lot like shades of what some of the Corinthians were experiencing in the 1st century:
"If the dead are not raised, “Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die.” (1 Corinthians 15:32)
Similar to fellow atheist (though not a nihilist) David Foster Wallace, Syfret accurately speaks of how full faith in romantic love or your work will crush you. Better to just enjoy the ride of life and not try to find meaning in it. You'll just be disappointed in the end anyway when all goes black.
I believe Christ raised from the dead, so I believe in a purpose and meaning greater than our present realities; but, overall found this to be a fascinating and insightful read on the worldview of sunny nihilism.
January 6, 2024
A lot of this really resonated and reminded me of conversations I’ve had with friends in my own life. Why does everything have to have a greater meaning and purpose? Why does everything have to be everything? Why can’t a thing just be a thing?
I found the beginning parts about careers and love most interesting. I wanted the section about religion to do…something….but it sort of fell flat and would have been better not being included. At that point my interest started to dwindle but this happens to me at about 75% through most non-fiction books. The main points had been made, in my opinion, and it just became repetitive instead of introducing anything new. It had that feeling of when you’re trying to hit your word count for a school assignment so you just summarize the point in slightly different words until you get there. But again, I feel that way about most non-fiction books.
Overall I really enjoyed it as an audiobook and would highly recommend it.
I found the beginning parts about careers and love most interesting. I wanted the section about religion to do…something….but it sort of fell flat and would have been better not being included. At that point my interest started to dwindle but this happens to me at about 75% through most non-fiction books. The main points had been made, in my opinion, and it just became repetitive instead of introducing anything new. It had that feeling of when you’re trying to hit your word count for a school assignment so you just summarize the point in slightly different words until you get there. But again, I feel that way about most non-fiction books.
Overall I really enjoyed it as an audiobook and would highly recommend it.
June 2, 2023
Without describing all the ins and outs of my worldview, I will say that Syfret’s advocacy for what another reviewer termed “nihilistic humanism” aligns with my perspective. I wanted to be convinced, but I needed the argument to be more rigorous. I still think Stoicism, Buddhism, some aspects of Christianity, etc cover the bases pretty well. The book holds an important space in its existence as counterpoint to the misrepresentation of nihilism as a toxic philosophy, but Syfret’s alternative vision seems more like a memoir or reflection than a comprehensive take on revamping the philosophy.
I enjoyed her writing and it is probably the kind of book I would write if I attempted the subject- probably much better. But I need a bit more. Onward with the philosophy journey.
I enjoyed her writing and it is probably the kind of book I would write if I attempted the subject- probably much better. But I need a bit more. Onward with the philosophy journey.
April 18, 2025
I think this was an interesting and compelling argument for nihilism. The whole book kinda felt like a really long op-ed which I guess makes sense given the author's background. I appreciated the authors user of their own experience and how these concepts worked for them but sometimes it felt too specific to their situation and it wasn't super easy for me to relate. I also think I'm probably too much of an optimist/scientist so the whole "nothing you will ever do or accomplish will be remembered or make that much of a difference" argument I fundamentally disagree with.
May 3, 2022
I started reading this book without hearing much about it and I was shocked by how quickly it spoke to me. I felt like Syfret's thoughts about nihilism and purpose are ones that I also held but hadn't taken the time to put into words. Syfret is an incredible writer with a fresh perspective and a good sense of humor, which is absolutely necessary when writing about philosophy (which I've found can be pretty tough to read).
The Sunny Nihilist is a book that I can see myself rereading in the future. It's that good.
The Sunny Nihilist is a book that I can see myself rereading in the future. It's that good.
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