📚 All the Beauty in the World: The Metropolitan Museum of Art and Me
✍ Patrick Bringley
📖 Non-fiction
⭐ 4/5

🙏 Thank you to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster for an advanced copy of All the Beauty in the World in exchange for an honest review.
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💭 "I am sometimes not sure which is the more remarkable: that life lives up to great paintings, or that great paintings live up to life."

In his early twenties, Patrick Bringley graduates college and begins an enviable career planning PR events for The New Yorker. A few years into his post-college life, his older brother is diagnosed with terminal cancer and passes away leading Patrick to reconsider how he spends each of his days on Earth. In an effort to slow his pace in the wake of his grief, Patrick begins a post as a guard at The Met, developing intimate knowledge of one of the world's most famous museums. Detailing his ten years at the museum and how his time in the presence of beauty helped him work through his grief, this memoir explores the way we engage with art and the unique history on display and hidden at The Met.
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🎯What I loved: I really enjoyed the way Patrick wove the progression of his own life experiences (feeling closed off and engrossed in his grief, building friendships within the museum, becoming a father, etc.) into what he took away from his experience at The Met. Despite wanting a seemingly slower paced life after his brother's passing, Patrick never took a passive approach to his role at the museum, instead completely immersing himself in the history of each wing he was stationed in. I learned so many details about works within the museum but more than that, was able to take away a deeper knowledge about the structure of The Met which was fascinating and eye opening.

🙅‍♀️What I didn't: Patrick and I have drastically different preferences when it comes to art. He spoke a lot about his enjoyment of and posts in the Egyptian, Iranian and Greco/Romanian wings in The Met and barely spoke about contemporary art. As someone who is passionate about contemporary art (of which The Met has a collection that could rival any museum in the world's), it felt like a big section of the museum was missing.
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Read if you love:
*art history
*museums
*reading about unique journeys through grief
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See also: Identity and the Museum Visitor Experience, The Birth of the Museum

The Author Patrick Bringley needs to find an outlet for his grief that he was experiencing when his older brother passes away from cancer. He leaves what many would consider a good job and applies and gets accepted for a guard position for the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. A museum that has 7 million visitors their jobs is to protect the artifacts and paintings in the museum. But as you will see that is not all these guards perform, they give directions to were various items are at or if they are even in the museum, they also provide some information concerning the different pieces and occasionally help a student with an assignment. He talks about his various interaction's first with his co-workers, the public and his observations as he has ten years' worth of time to look at the museum pieces and relate what they mean to him or what process the artist used to make them. This is a quick informative read about a great museum.

Thank you Netgalley and Simon and Schuster for access to this arc.

Do not go into this book expecting stories about funny experiences or hijinks in the museum. Instead this is a very thoughtful memoir of how Patrick Bringley sought solace and a place to "just be" after the death of his older brother and after his own realization that he needed to escape the rat race publishing job he had in NYC. Remembering the family trips to the Art Institute of Chicago, Bringley applied for a position as a guard at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. 

This is a job that pays you to stand and watch, and - if you want - to think. Where you don't have to "do" anything, sell anything, push anything at anybody and you get to do this all day - or evening - long. Needing some head space to mourn his brother, he begins ten years of wearing a cheap blue polyester suit, wearing out ten pairs of shoes, and using his $80/year allowance for socks all while getting to soak in some of the most glorious artwork in the world. From ancient Egypt to 20th century rural Alabama quilts, from a newly designed Islamic gallery, to pointing out where the "irises" are (Van Gogh), and helping frazzled mothers (who didn't realize that art is all that the museum has - no dinosaurs or other hands on stuff) with rambunctious children head towards the mummies and medieval armor.

Bringley learns the rhythm of the museum, which galleries he prefers (the ones with wooden floors are easiest on the feet), which individual artworks he enjoys most, that working the Met Gala is a bust (he got stationed too far away to see anything), and gains a new appreciation for all the artists who have captured humanity and human feelings and experiences over the millennia. He can pick out various "types" of visitors and discovers the ones he enjoys the most (those without preconceived notions who are willing to open themselves to the artworks, unafraid to admit ignorance, ready to learn). 

He gives a behind the scenes glimpse of how the museum works, the variety of guards (about half are immigrants and many are older - some coming to the job in middle age), becomes a father, and begins to realize that he's ready to try something different now. It's an amusing, pensive, informative book that I enjoyed reading. B

All the Beauty in the World is a lyrical and compelling narrative that will find fans in the genres of memoir and beyond. Highly recommended.

All the Beauty in the World was a great meditation on grief, art, and how art can help cure us. I really loved the insight of the author's time as a security guard at the Met. It was more emotional than the description led me to believe, but I really liked the exploration of the author's grief in losing his brother.

The Metropolitan Museum of Art was one of my favorite places growing up (I wrote an essay claiming exactly this when I was in grade school), so I was immediately drawn to this book. I was expecting it to be about the shenanigans Patrick Bringley encountered as a guard at one of the most famous museum in the world, but this book is far more than that. For one, it was more serious in tone. I would consider it a contemplative book, because that is what Bringley does as he guards the priceless art and artifacts. There are a few cute anecdotes sprinkled in here and there, but this is far more about Bringley's contemplation of big questions; his meaning-making process, especially after the loss of his brother; his deep appreciation and knowledge of art and history; and his reflections on the nature of humanity, if you want to get really general about it. The fun book I was expecting gave me a run for my money, but I'm not mad about it. It's clear that Bringley got a lot out of his experience, and it will certainly affect my museum-going behaviors and thoughts in the future.

“Too many visitors think of the Met as a museum of Art History, where the objective is to learn about art rather than from it. Too many suppose there are experts who know all the right answers and it isn’t a layman’s place to dig into objects and extract what meaning they can. The more time I spend in the Met, the more convinced I am it isn’t a museum of art history, not principally. Its interests reach up to the heavens and down into worm-ridden tombs and touch on virtually every aspect of how it feels and what it means to live in the space between. There aren’t experts about that. I believe we take art seriously when we try to discern what, at close quarters, it reveals. It feels like the more I explore, the more I will see, the more I’ll understand how very little I’ve seen. The world feels like a surfeit of details that refuse to coalesce.” - Patrick Bringley, All the Beauty in the World

This may well be my favorite read of the year. When left with grief of his older brother’s premature passing, former New Yorker employee Patrick Bringley turns away from a cutthroat desk job toward quiet, contemplative days as a security guard at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. We navigate the museum by way of Patrick’s own advice and memories, from pieces he’s personally struck by to snippets of conversations with museum attendees and fellow guards alike. Interwoven with reminders of his brother and the ways in which grief and its process can both color and change our perspective, this collection moves fluidly between truthful heartache and wistful dreaming. Thoughtful, grounded, and beautifully ordinary, readers can relate to the simplicity of Bringley’s voice and delight in the remarkable wisdom in his musings about art and life. This work of nonfiction is something I will keep with me for quite some time. Thank you to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster for the chance to spend quite a few moments with it; they won’t be my last!

I’ll start off by stating bluntly that I adore museums in general, and my favorite place in the entirety of nearby New York City is hands-down the Metropolitan Museum of Art, where I have spent many an hour. So it will be of absolutely no surprise whatsoever that I heartily enjoyed Patrick Bingely’s “All the Beauty in the World.” The book provided a wonderfully intimate look into the world of the museum guards, providing readers a wonderful opportunity to learn about the world they inhabit that puts them both in the thick of it and also behind the scenes. Bingley’s writing also provides a much needed and probably very overdue spotlight on these men and women in general - for how many museum visitors to the Met and similar institutions passed by these ubiquitous employees without giving them so much as a thought, much less a second glance? I of course can’t speak for others, but I can definitely consider myself quite guilty on this matter, and in turn am quite appreciative of the newfound consideration I’m able to devote to them.

On top of its informativeness, “All the Beauty in the World” carried an incredibly soothing quality to it, and in fact it may very well be the most calming nonfiction work that I’ve read this year. Whether Bingely was describing a particular exhibit that seized his attention, times spent lost in memories of an older brother that passed before time, or any of his on-the-job mental musings, it almost always seemed to capture one of the moods or sensations I most commonly experience while wandering about a museum. Mental and emotional capture by a work of art, winding mind trips that suddenly occur in particularly quiet halls and rooms, odd thoughts that suddenly spring up - these sensations came rushing right back to me again and again as I worked my way through the chapters. It was almost the next best thing to being able to revisit and get lost in one of my favorite museums once again. However, arguably this might be at least an equivalent experience, because admittedly in my usual trips I never get the behind-the-scenes peeks that were provided in rich abundance here.

Overall, a wonderful read to help calm down after a hectic year. Also, no need to stray away from this book if you’ve never visited the Met. If you just happen to be a museum lover of any degree, an art lover, or simply think you’d like to be interested in reading about life as a guard, then I heartily recommend this beautiful book.

It is said that resilience can be cultivated. But sometimes the death of a young and supremely loved person will overtake our timeline. The distant, aversive path we all believe will be available to us before a hole is blasted in our soul.

It wouldn’t have occurred to Patrick Bringley that his older brother, Tom, would die before him. A brilliant mathematician who choses the abstract language of bio math because, Tom says, of the amazing single cell, its fantastic redundancies and millions of variations on a theme. Those very cells will mutate in Tom’s leg, and Patrick will be at his brother’s side as cancer erodes his body. Patrick will see this experience as a modern Passion playing out. Agony, suffering, anguish, until that day of finality when Tom dies.

Patrick finds he cannot turn away from the real world that he has been plunged into where mortality is a pervasive presence. Stripped of innocence but maladapted, he needs a space where he can surrender to silence and beauty. The Met is that place, a cathedral of sacred beauty and a gateway to other eras, centuries that can be spanned by crossing from one living work of art to another. A place where one can watch and listen as art quietly mentors.

Patrick will discover that the permanence and cold hard honestly of art is a path on which one can tread when painful reflection is necessary. It memorializes the the gift of existence with all of its pain and vigor, sorrow and joy, tedium and wonder. Just as the masters have done, Patrick will patiently rebuild his strength and connection with the world one brush stroke at a time, one artwork at a time, until the weight of suffering no longer silences him.

This book is about art, its sacred aspect and transcendence, its power to heal and transform, to gather history and inspire. It is also about loss and healing and finding meaning again. This book will change you. It will change how you view art, change how you view loss, and change how you view healing.

This beautiful memoir flows like a low-gradient stream. It is crystalline and meditative and intensely moving. Unweighted by sentimentally but agonizing in its unvarnished honesty. You will find yourself wanting to close your eyes at moments of piercing insight, to let your mind settle, suspended in a narrative of breathtaking clarity and poetic beauty.

Many thanks to NetGalley for allowing me to read this ARC.

Beautiful, interesting glimpse of the daily goings-on at the NYC MET museum as the author made a career change following a tremendous loss and became a guard. I loved how the Met became almost like a character within the book… So much history within as exhibits and art, as well as the number of people who have experienced it. It’s a quick read and one that made me wanna visit my local museum. I’ll always look at the guards knowing now all the experience and their important role. Thanks to sign in aIt’s a quick read and one that made me wanna visit my local museum. I’ll always look at the guards knowing now all the experience in their important role. Thanks to Simon and Schuster for the advanced copy. What a gem.

Interesting and encouraging memoir about the life of a guard at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I enjoyed the writing style and descriptions of the art. The author was authentic and candid, and I think anyone (even non-art-enthusiasts) would enjoy his story.

This is a short, fascinating memoir that offers a glimpse into Met and the art it collects from the point of view of one of the guards. After losing his brother to cancer, Patrick takes a job as a guard at the Met as a form of escape. This book is about his decade long career with the museum and its impact on him. What I loved the most is how Patrick describes art and his reaction to it, how he engages with art is highly emotional and often passionate, and it's fascinating to read about how art makes an impact on him and what grabs his attention depending on his emotions. He highlights several artists and works, some well know others not so much, and gives such vivid descriptions of his thoughts and opinions that it's almost as if you're standing in the museum with him. Great book, he did a good job of weaving all the elements together, and this had made me definitely want to visit the Met one day.

This book is the author's memoir of his time as a security guard at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. An illness and loss within his family caused him to make a career change and he sought peace and solace among the many pieces of art. This book includes some fun behind-the-scenes details of what it is like to be one of the many staff members at the museum, and also the author's thoughts and reflections of some of the art itself.

Thank you to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster for this ARC. Patrick was working as a writer at The New Yorker when his brother gets sick and passes away. He then decides to make a big change himself. He signs up to be a guard at The Metropolitan Museum of Art. This books covers his 10 year stay as a guard and what the museum has taught him after long, silent hours on his feet. If you are an art lover or no, this book is filled with lots of insight about life and art. #AllTheBeautyInTheWorld #PatrickBringley #Feb2023 #Simon&Schuster

I’m giving this book five stars even though I agree with other reviewers that there are some rambling philosophical musings that aren’t quite pinned down by the author. With more experience his writing will have greater fluidity. However, this book is just so beautiful and uplifting, The author’s love for art is contagious and his research richly infuses each piece he writes about. I ended up looking up many of them and some images are in the book. But it’s not just a tour of the museum - this memoir takes us on a tour of this author’s journey through grief to find love and meaning through his relationships to museum-goers, cohorts, and last but not least his wife and children. If you have ever pondered if art can provide healing you need to only open this book and read it. Let it heal and transform you as well.

While the author’s emotions were swirling after the death of his brother, his shift to work as a museum guard brought a simplicity and calmness to a stressful time. It is almost as heavy on his brother’s cancer and dealing with grief as it is with art and the author’s emotional recovery and growth into adulthood.

An enjoyable memoir against the backdrop of one of the most impressive museums in the world. I distinctly remember my visits to the Met—the grand staircase, the temple of Dendur, arms and armor, Van Gogh, Jackson Pollock—and it was lovely to revisit

Some of the philosophical musings run long when more behind the scenes insight was what I wanted, but visiting the museum made it worthwhile. This is must-read for Met and art fans, just be aware of the cancer and grief content.

For his first job after he graduated college, my husband was a (night) guard at the Met, himself, and I really wanted to read this book because everytime I ask about what to me seems like an all-encompassingly fascinating job, all my husband says, was that it was boring (boring! 😒) - standing in one spot for hours, not moving, except for your shifts in different areas (a few hours in one area, a few hours in the next, and so on - he said they had 4 and 4 shifts per night. After nearly a year, the position was no longer tolerable enough to tempt him, the commute lengthy from his Jersey City home base, and he left for another, closer, job. That answer has never appealed to my curiosity, sense of romance, and everlasting sense of wonder for the Met, which was my favorite museum to visit during childhood (we lived in NJ, so visits were consistent, if not as frequent as I would have liked). Reading this seemed like a good way to learn about the magic of the place.

It also offered so much more as a thoughtful and beautifully written memoir, in which Mr. Bringley shares his grief and his process throughout navigating that cruel and awful time.

The writing here is honest, poignant, and the author writes about the art he has now spent so much time with very lovingly. The writing/storytelling is terrific.

It also holds enough history and information about the art and the museum to satisfy my longing to know more.

A definite recommendation.