If you have been following my site, it probably will not surprise you to hear that On Being Blue is a book that I like. The author, William H. Gass, died last week. So I drew a little tribute.
Furthermore, the sense of passion or of power, of depth and vibrancy, feeling and vision, we take away from any work is the result of the intermingling, balance, play, and antagonism between these: it is the arrangement of blues, not any blue itself, which lets us see the mood it formulates, whether pensive melancholy or thoughtless delight, so that one to whom aesthetic experience comes easily will see, as Schopenhauer suggested, sadness in things as readily as smoky violet or moist verdigris.
–William H. Gass, On Being Blue
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