Oh this book is so beautiful to look at. I really love that the publishers of this one took the title and explored the idea of phosphorescence through lovely application of foiling. Just gorgeous.


The writing inside is, at times, absolutely gorgeous, too. The opening, where Baird talks about cuttlefish, had me absolutely immersed (that may have been an ocean pun) and just feeling light and happy. Throughout the book, examples of phosphorescence are interspersed with the other things Baird talks about, and I found myself looking forward to reading about those parts. This was so so close to something that I would absolutely adore - nonfiction with elements of memoir interspliced with nature writing? That’s pretty much my brand at this point. And yet, it just wasn’t quite there.


There’s a chance that my issues with this book only came up because I read it at a time of upheaval for me - moving house is rough at the best of times, and I wouldn’t call now the ‘best of times’ - so I will just remind everyone that reading experiences are always coloured by personal experience and context. However, there were just a few things that bothered me about this book so I couldn’t love it as much as I wanted to.


First of all, whilst I loved the chapters on beauty and societal expectations of women, I did feel that it was a little surface level, and also just kind of fell into some usual fallbacks - corsets are the devil’s work, for example, and also some frustrating pronouncements about plastic surgery. Occasionally I find myself really drawn in by what Baird was saying, only to be thrown completely back out by a vast generalisation that clearly was based on opinion or extremely general knowledge rather than any sort of research or deeper thought. You could argue that the book was more memoir-based, and thus didn’t need to be researched as much, but I would say that because the book’s subtitle is ‘on awe, wonder, and things that sustain you when the world goes dark’, this was a good opportunity to really delve deep and research everytthing before just throwing it in there. (Also, as far as I could tell, Baird doesn’t have any experience of corsets or plastic surgery, so it felt a little random to make such vast generalisations.)


There was also a little of this sort of feeling with some of the other chapters - it felt like Baird was trying to get really vulnerable, and invite us to be more vulnerable, too, which I absolutely love. In many cases she was completely successful, but then there would just be a random throw-away comment about Taylor Swift or someone that would just ruin it. I wanted more of the vulnerability, less of the random judgement.


Finally, it did feel like this book tries to do too much. Sometimes I had trouble figuring out what the main theme was, and/or how it connected back to phosphorescence. By the end of the book, I had gotten confused a few times about what the book was trying to say. The feeling I was ultimately left with was that this book is a bit of a beautiful mess - sometimes you’re going to feel a little lost, but a lot of it is so luminous and lovely that you don’t really mind, overall.


8/10 colour-changing cuttlefish.


I received a review copy of this book from Netgalley in exchange for an honest review. All thoughts and feelings are my own.

This is a delight to read as Julia shares memories of her 40+ years of life with the underpinning thread of 'phosphoresce' running throughout her stories. She shares how holding onto awe, wonder and mystery has helped her to navigate through the good and not-so-good times. Her struggle with intestinal cancer requiring 3 surgeries, even though not mentioned too much, is a powerful example of how she coped while solo parenting two children.

I particularly appreciated how Julia highlighted the importance of a significant few friends in her life who have travelled alongside her one wild and precious life, the ups and downs, and especially practically supporting her in her darkest days of illness. Her letter to her daughter and her desires for her son are beautiful odes to living a life of love, compassion, kindness and goodness. Her faith shines through and her passion for the maligned, misunderstood and mistreated in society is clearly evident. I found this especially convicting realising how easy it is settle for the comfortable when Jesus challenges us to be uncomfortable when confronted with the homeless, widowed and unloved members within the neighbour.

There's really something for everyone in this easy to read memoir. Julia writes brilliantly and refers to many of the people who have played a key part in influencing, encouraging and challenging her.

Highly recommended.

I received an early ebook version from the publisher via NetGalley with no expectations of a favourable review.

I didn’t need much convincing about the importance of feeling ‘wonder and awe’ when I started reading Julia Baird’s part-memoir-part-essay-collection, Phosphorescence. The book begins with Baird’s experience of ocean swimming. I know the feelings she describes. I know those feelings from the sea. I know those feelings every time I look up at the clouds. I know those feelings when I gaze at the muddy sweep of the Yarra.

Something happens when you dive into a world where clocks don’t tick and inboxes don’t ping. As your arms circle, swing and pull along the edge of a vast ocean, your mind wanders, and you open yourself to awe, to the experience of seeing something astonishing, unfathomable or greater than yourself.

An amazing thing happened while I was reading this book. There was a big rain event in Melbourne and a sinkhole appeared in my suburb. I couldn’t stop visiting! I loved that there were others standing quietly looking at hole as well. Baird speaks of the importance of feeling ‘small’ –

We spend a lot of time in life trying to make ourselves feel bigger – to project ourselves, occupy space, command attention, demand respect – so much so that we seem to have forgotten how comforting it can be to feel small and experience the awe that comes from being silenced by something greater than ourselves, something unfathomable, unconquerable, and mysterious.

She goes on to add that in becoming ‘small’, we shrink in significance, and “…become better at living alongside and caring for others. And we become more content.” The sinkhole, COVID lockdown and my reading of this book aligned, and the timing felt lucky – it gave me a different lens through which to consider the pandemic.

In one sense, there are not a lot of new ideas in this book – we know that we live in a culture that is increasingly ‘silence-avoiding’; that under-appreciates nature; that is faster and faster and faster – but Baird frames it in a new way – the overarching tenet is awe, with a theme of mindfulness, and a foundation of fascinating research. She affirmed so many of the things I know to be true – the power of immersing yourself in water; the intrinsic benefit in volunteering; the importance of social connections and relationships for health and happiness; and the existence of ‘therapeutic landscapes’. The chapters on the need to tell stories are beautifully detailed and multi-faceted. And the chapters on friendship are exquisite. In one section, Baird describes the importance of long friendships –

These people are the crossbeams of our resilience.

That might be my favourite quote in the whole book. It is so, so true, and I keep coming back to it, turning it over in my mind when I speak to dear friends.

It’s not a perfect collection. Baird’s letters to her children, while beautifully written, feel slightly out of step with other chapters. Likewise, the chapters on faith didn’t hold my interest as much as the others, although they allow Baird to come full circle –

Many who don’t attend church or adhere to any particular religion, congregate on beaches, in forests and on mountaintops to experience awe and wonder, to sense a ‘peace that goes beyond understanding’, the ‘sighs that have no words’, and seek ways to bring light into their lives.

I read this book in April, just weeks into lockdown 1.0 for Melbourne. Five months on, still in lockdown, I have reflected on how my world has both shrunk (to a 5km bubble) and expanded, in the sense that this is a problem being experienced the world over. Baird states, ‘When you shrink, your ability to see somehow sharpens’ – these words weren’t written during the pandemic, yet I can’t help but apply them to what is happening now, and wonder what will change as a result.

4/5 A collection I will revisit many times.

I received my copy of Phosphorescence from the publisher, Harper Collins Australia, via NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.

I was super excited when I saw this available on NetGalley and was delighted to receive and advance copy. I just adored "Victoria" - it was a spectacular book, so I was hopeful that Phosphorescence would be what I needed during these dark pandemic times.

But, I just couldn't get into it. Julia Baird writes beautifully, however, I struggled to appreciate the direction of the book. Every chapter felt like a bit of a slog and I had to push myself to finish it.

Despite this, Phosphorescence kept me thinking and after a few days it struck me as to why I couldn't get into it. This book is not written for me. The ideas that Julia Baird writes about are already instinctual part of my life, so everything felt a bit "well, duh". I have always been a person who is frequently struck be awe and the wonder of life, I don't need help identifying and embracing experiences. Consequently, Phosphorescence did not bring anything new to me.

So, while I didn't enjoy this book, I think people who need a bit of guidance to embrace awe will gain much insight.

This is exactly the book the world needs right now. It's a book about finding light in the darkness, about love, and acceptance, and nature.
I cannot say it strongly enough, this book is wonderful. I usually read fantasy, but something about the description spoke to me and I'm so glad I read it. It's full of vivid imagery and made me want to go swim in the sea, climb mountains, find phosphorescence and just live life. At times it brought tears to my eyes, but most of all it made me smile. This is one of the best, and most important books I have read this year.
In very dark times around the world, this book is more than just a book about finding light in yourself, the book itself is light.

The release of this book could not be more well timed with all that is currently going on in the world. Here author Julia Baird sheds light on seeking enjoyment through the little things in life, purposefully recognising moments of awe that will assist in providing a move to mindfulness and acknowledgment of our place in the universe. She claims this book to be a ‘salve’ by finding the small things that keep one afloat in times of hardship, by seeking the comforts that keep you going.

‘... the answers to the question that inspired this book —how do we endure when suffering becomes unbearable and our obstacles seem monstrous? How do we continue to glow when the lights turn out? —are there, right in front of us, all the time. All we can do really is keep placing one foot on the earth, then the other, to seek out ancient paths and forests, certain in the knowledge that others have endured before us.’

Ask the right questions:
‘instead of how do we stay happy, should we ask how do we survive, stay alive or even bloom when the world goes dark’

Take note of those special moments:
‘... we need to reach for those tiny drops of stillness. And they can fall throughout our day, in snatched or carved-out moments, even in the midst of working, commuting, loving.’

This book is a timely reminder to stay grounded even in uncertainty, positivity within brings a calm without. Take stock, take note, be reassured in the fact that little things can bring a lasting and positive impact to one’s life. Things to sustain you in moments of darkness.

‘... we have the ability to find, nurture and carry our own inner, living light —a light to ward off the darkness. This is not about burning brightly, but yielding simple phosphorescence —being luminous at temperatures below incandescence, quietly glowing without combusting.’




This review is based on a complimentary copy from the publisher and provided through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. The quoted material may have changed in the final release.

I don't know if it's possible that this book could've come at a more poignant moment for society. It has definitely been an eventful 2020 for Australia and not for the affirming reasons we've become accustomed to.

Baird has prompted us to remember to seek awe, which in turn inspires us to reexamine our place in the universe and how we are such a small part of it. This reminder should humble us and ensure that we maintain a kindness to the people around us and the space we inhabit. The chapters addressed to her children were incredibly beautiful and moving and full of wonderment. (I was especially fond of Chapter 11 - Letter to a Young Woman.) Baird's commentary surrounding religion toward the end of the book I found highly relatable and was the most engaging part of the book. It was worded with such truth and eloquence; it really verbalised my relationship with religion so well.

Reading this book was a timely reminder of everything I aspire to do and be daily to keep me grounded, mentally positive and provide me with a sense of happiness and calm. It was nice to actively review these steps that I take, as they do become second nature over time, but it is reassuring that they make a positive impact on my life.