This brief memoir chronicles the author’s decade as a guard at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. Bringley took a curious route to his position at The Met. He was in his early 20s and working at the New Yorker magazine when his beloved older brother was diagnosed with an aggressive cancer that would kill him a few years later. Distraught, Bringley sought refuge at The Met, quitting his supposed dream job to spend his days standing on marble floors, shuffling from room to room filled with priceless works of art.
All the Beauty in the World proceeds on essentially parallel tracks. In one, Bringley meditates on the artwork he is surrounded by and offers up his thoughts on what art means to him and to the world in general. On the other track, Bringley shares both his personal story (tending to his brother, falling in love, starting a family) and the stories of his fellow guards.
Bringley’s writing on art is a little florid for my taste. He reaches for language befitting the masterworks that move him so deeply. But nothing in print can capture the effect of seeing a work of art in person, leaving the reader wanting more. There are some illustrations in the book, but they were not particularly impressive. (I read this book on Kindle, so perhaps they work better in print.)
However, I was captivated by the personal stories Bringley shared, especially of his fellow employees. They are an eclectic mix of native New Yorkers and immigrants from around the globe, some who are knowledgeable about art and others just looking for a steady union job. Many have colorful life stories, like the ancient “Johnny Buttons” who has been tailoring guards’ uniforms in the basement for decades, or Bringley’s pal Joseph from Benin, who was a prominent banker until he crossed the wrong people and had to flee the country after an attempt on his life.
All the Beauty in the World may not have captured just what’s so magical about ancient urns or a bunch of paintings of Jesus, but in his relating the stories of his fellow guards, he has succeeding in creating his own work of art, if not necessarily a masterpiece.