This is one of the most difficult religious treatises I've ever read. The language is somewhat arcane, and the concepts are very esoteric. It sounds like I didn't like the book, but I did; enough to probably reread this some day given how thought provoking it was. The idea that the soul prospers in abandoning everything, paring down even beyond the spiritual action, is counter-intuitive, and somewhat convicting. Highly recommended for the searchers in life. ( )

A beautiful meditation on spiritual progress, primarily aimed at those relatively advanced in the spiritual life. I was surprised to find how much like a modern self-help book the text really is. ( )

Dark Night of the Soul (Spanish: La noche oscura del alma) is a poem written by the 16th-century Spanish mystic and poet St. John of the Cross. The author himself did not give any title to his poem, on which he wrote two book-length commentaries: Ascent of Mount Carmel (Subida del Monte Carmelo) and The Dark Night (Noche Oscura).

I fear I've understood only a small bit of this book, but I'm glad I worked my way through it. It's a view into a mind and religious worldview that is completely foreign to me but still worth trying to internalize. ( )

This book is a Christian classic. It is somewhat like a commentary on a poem. The reading requires contemplation, and it really should not be rushed. The fact I was in a rush to complete it probably influenced my lower rating. I found the language a bit "stilted" and the sentences too long for most modern readers. ( )

This book offers incredible and honest insights into spiritual growth and development. It consists of an explanation of a poem by the same author, also called the Dark Night of the Soul, and although it ends abruptly, the wisdom the reader can draw from it seems unlimited.

Summary from Amazon:
The great Spanish mystic St. John of the Cross became a Carmelite monk in 1563 and helped St. Teresa of Avila to reform the Carmelite order — enduring persecution and imprisonment for his efforts. Both in his writing and in his life, he demonstrated eloquently his love for God. His written thoughts on man's relationship with God were literary endeavors that placed him on an intellectual and philosophical level with such great writers as St. Augustine and Thomas Aquinas.
In this work — a spiritual masterpiece and classic of Christian literature and mysticism — he addresses several subjects, among them pride, avarice, envy, and other human imperfections. His discussion of the "dark night of the spirit," which considers afflictions and pain suffered by the soul, is followed by an extended explanation of divine love and the soul's exultant union with God. ( )

Upon a darkened night
The flame of love was burning in my breast
And by a lantern bright
I fled my house while all in quiet rest...

I was first introduced to this famous poem by 16th-century mystic St. John of the Cross through Loreena McKennitt's song on her album "The Mask and Mirror." It's a beautiful piece of work describing the soul's union with God, and I was interested to read the theological treatise he wrote later in his life about it. Unfortunately, the poem is much better read by itself than painstakingly expounded.

The "dark night of the soul" is a term that denotes a period of spiritual dryness, when all devotional activities feel particularly flat and stale, and the soul is assailed by doubts and confusion. As a description of spiritual drought — something I think every Christian experiences — it's excellent, but where I just don't follow St. John is in his insistence on the details of every stage of the dark night. His wandering, belabored descriptions quickly become tedious, and the result is irrelevant to the vigorous pursuit of holiness taught by the New Testament.

Biblically speaking, is the dark night supposed to be the defining theme of the Christian life? I'm not convinced it is. In the New Testament, Christians are urged to live wisely, serve one another, grow in knowledge and wisdom, work hard, examine themselves, bear fruit, be humble, and love faithfully. One thing we aren't told to do is spend our lives analyzing our spiritual depression and contemplating the vicissitudes of our inner man. Focusing so much energy and time on what's going on inside seems a little narcissistic, even if it is a spiritualized introspection. The Bible doesn't emphasize the experience of spiritual dryness and I think it's a mistake for us to do so. I'm not denying that spiritual dryness exists, but I think wallowing in it encourages a focus on self to the exclusion of other things like serving others and being faithful regardless of our feelings.

St. John's biblical exegesis is weak; he only quotes Scripture when it supports his point (rather than Scripture being the starting point and his point being drawn from it), and he often has to twist it dreadfully to make it mean what he wants it to. Occasionally even the interpretations he wrests from his spare lines of poetry are also a stretch; at times he is extremely literal and other times the meaning is, of course, highly symbolic. There is no consistency in his interpretative principles.

What I'm gathering from the Catholic mystics I've read thus far is that they are just like mystics of any other religion: they spout lots of man-made ideology and structures, they are absorbed in their own spiritual lives to the point of being self centered, and occasionally they say something that is true and beautiful. For the Christian seeking biblical truth, this will not satisfy. ( )

Beutiful poetry even for a novice like myself. The depth would be unreachable without Johns outstanding commentary. ( )

This is the follow-on companion book to the Ascent of Mount Carmel. Honestly I have not indulged my self yet. It appears to be done in the same objective approach as Ascent of Mount Carmel. ( )

Listening to this audiobook as part of the KC Public Library Winter 2013 Adult Reading Program 'While the City Sleeps' ( )