The usual reading review from last month. Just a couple of notes on new things before I get started.
First, though I have no intention of actually following my 'resolution' to keep posts under two thousand words, I am going to apply the concept selectively to reduce or break up posts as I see fit. I suppose you can guess what is about to happen to this one? You'll thank me later.
The second thing is a bit forced but I like its prospects to drag out some additional thinking into these reviews. For each book, I'll try to identify one thing I liked, one thing I didn't, and one thing I'm not all that sure about. It will make more sense once I start doing it, I bet.
OK- here we go, part one of my scattered thoughts and observations from last month's reading. Enjoy.
See you all again next Monday.
Tim
*Essays and Aphorisms by Arthur Schopenhauer (12/1)
This collection draws from his final work, Parerga and Paralipomena (originally published in 1851). One of the most well-known philosophers of the 19th century (or at least among those who 'know' 19th century philosophers), Schopenhauer is known best for his thinking about the aimless nature of human desire and behavior. (1)
The most enjoyable reading looked into the question of where life goes after death. Schopenhauer states one possibility: the same place we were before birth (but where is that?). From here, he speculates that perhaps it is life itself that is the dream state. This view of life marks death as the point of awakening where the soul returns to its natural, waking state.
Analogies are scattered throughout. He compares wisdom to a small but well-organized library. Though far less impressive than stack of every book from a warehouse ten times the size, the library's ability to quickly find and apply the needed information makes the former significantly more useful than the latter.
He also comments on balance, comparing the lives of those lacking it to a runner moving too quickly down a steep decline. The spectator sees a determined runner moving with great purpose. But the runner knows he is unable to stop. He settles for simply remaining upright, achieved only by continuing to run until his body collapses. (2)
In his longer musings, I discovered the same delight and inspiration that readers have enjoyed for almost two centuries. His insight and independence are evident with each new line of thought. I also discovered examples of his more widely known views, such as his emphasis on morality, in his essay-length writing than I did in his comments and aphorisms.
Schopenhauer acknowledges the everyday suffering brought on by the routines of the industrial age. In a world marked by tedium, disappointment, and lack of fulfillment, everyone needs kindness, sympathy, and patience from their neighbors. Of course, what everyone needs, everyone owes, and with that leap of reasoning he rests his case for why people should treat each other with goodness.
One up: A lot of the wisdom here is condensed into aphorisms. I'm always up for a good aphorism or two, even if the nonsense of the Americanized Chinese food industry have left some a bit jaded on the idea (fortune cookie: 'you love Chinese food.').
Whether the topic is buying books (too bad one cannot also buy the time to read them) or the link of reasoning and prophecy (each is a way to uncover the future) the quick observations covering a wide range of topics here were alone worth the time spent reading.
One down: Perhaps most remarkable here are his comments about women. Nothing from this disappointing portion of the book is worth highlighting here. In reading this section, I perhaps was exposed to my first true case of a philosopher 'being a product of his time'.
And yet, I cannot help but wonder if Schopenhauer's conclusions were derived independently of the views commonly held in his time. This, after all, would be consistent with the independent thought he utilized in analyzing so much else of his age.
Just saying: It's philosophy, and though condensed into a collection, still fairly thick. Without the right mental state, I've found reading philosophy tedious.
It's not Harry Potter, in other words.
*Revulsion: Thomas Bernhard in San Salvador by Horacio Castellanos Moya (12/6)
This book, accurately described to me as a one-hundred page rant, is a 'conversation' between two characters. The basic plot summary is that the speaker, returning home to El Salvador for his mother's funeral, vents for two consecutive hours to his companion over whiskeys at a local bar.
The topics covered in this rant include anything about El Salvador's politics, culture, or people that the speaker finds disagreeable. Anyone who has listened patiently while another has chosen that moment to 'let it all out' will probably immediately recognize what is going on in this book.
I noted before reading that Moya received death threats for this book. It is perfectly clear now why some reacted in this way. As we saw in this country over the past few months, criticism of the symbols, traditions, or entertainments of a given culture will spark a spirited rebuttal from those genuinely offended or simply feeling as if they are under attack.
One up: This book perfectly captured the sensation of being pinned down by the force of nature that is the ranting companion.
One down: I wondered at times if the most insightful observations were diminished or disguised in the forceful flow of the rant. Emotion and logic rarely go hand in hand. Rants, driven by sheer force of emotion, tend to envelope the clarity of thought process under the tide of conviction and feeling.
Just saying: A lot of people reached out to Moya after this book's publication and asked that he repeat the same for their own situations, circumstances, or communities. That sounds like fun to me. Keep an eye out for my own mini-versions of these rants in the next proper admin post.
*Messy by Tim Harford (12/7)
A few years ago, I read The Undercover Economist, Harford's debut book in which he explained various problems from everyday life through application of economic principles. I quickly moved on to his next two books, The Logic of Life and Dear Undercover Economist, both similar in purpose and enjoyable reads. He remains my answer to the never-asked question (I wonder why no one ever asks this) of 'who is your favorite economist?'.
His two more recent books are Adapt and Messy. These books are justifiably compared to bestsellers from writers such as Malcolm Gladwell (in fact, praise from Gladwell himself is on the front cover of Messy) and perhaps a little lazily compared to Marie Kondo's The Life Chaning Magic of Tidying Up (from my point of view, the two books are not all that similar). (3)
Messy has a very basic premise- Harford suspects that people forgo perfectly good opportunities by opting to complete tidying tasks instead.
Here are some basic applications of the idea:
*Instead of labeling email or sorting it into 'folders', answer them or delete them.
*Instead of creating a ton of rules governing workplace layout and hiring a consultant to move the couches three feet to the left, write down a couple of rules of thumb and let the employees control their environment.
*Instead of storing all the stuff into closets, organizers, or drawers, just leave things where you use them.
The way Harford makes his points is (naturally) messy. He utilizes anecdotes and science, finds parallels and connections among seemingly unrelated concepts, and explains everything with his usual blend of common sense and simple phrasing.
So, though I've drifted from this style of book in the past couple of years, I actually do recommend this one. I'm a big fan of the author, obviously, and I think he does this type of book well when others who perhaps sell better do a much sloppier job.
One up: Earlier, I noted that I saw little similarity with this book and the tidying book from Marie Kondo. If there is one thing they share, it is that these books bring out the best in each author's style.
Kondo is very capable of saying do this, then do that, over and over again. Harford's popularity through his writing and podcasting is based on his ability to explain in simple terms why the trend you noticed is perfectly explained by a causal relationship.
One down: Harford's method is all too familiar for readers of popular nonfiction. Mixing anecdote with science reminds me of the marshmallow experiment. Do you readers know how many times I've read about the stupid marshmallow experiment?
These books tend to rely on what people enjoy about easy conversation- a preference to point out facts rather than determine truth, a joy in speculation, and jumps from one line of thinking to another rather than focusing on one core idea. That's all very nice at lunch but guarantees nothing about how well a book will explain an author's thinking.
Just saying: Any reader with even the slightest interest in economics will enjoy his articles or Undercover Economist books. I'm not quite ready to say that those who enjoy his other work will enjoy this book given its lack of focus on economics. However, I repeat that his strengths as a writer and thinker do come through in Messy.
*The Waves by Virginia Woolf (12/10)
As my reaction was with Mrs. Dalloway, this novel left me baffled, awed, and moved, sometimes over the span of just a few sentences. And of course, the way she tells a story remains new to me. Even though Woolf is recognized as an innovator in the field, there do not seem to be too many authors who've managed to follow her footsteps in the many decades since she burst onto the literary scene.
The basic plot of the book is, in a way, irrelevant. It is a story about six characters, told from their childhood through old age. The story unfolds through a series of inner thoughts, monologues, and soliloquies, the characters taking turns to tell the story of their deepest thoughts and feelings.
One up: I found the final 'chapter', delivered through the voice of Bernard, as the most enjoyable. It starts off simply enough- 'Now, to sum up'- and it soon becomes evident that this section indeed is the summary, not just of the book itself, but seemingly of Woolf's deepest convictions about how we are all impacted by the ebbs and flows of life's waves.
One down: Despite the name, I suspect this is not really a beach read. Get a good night's sleep before starting in on The Waves.
Just saying: As regular readers here are aware, I decided back in the fall to try three of Woolf's novels. Two novels down! I'm looking forward to reading To The Lighthouse sometime in the next month or so.
One conclusion so far is that I was very ill-equipped for Woolf's style of writing (which some describe as lyrical and others call 'prose poetry'). Books like this require a little more time and a little more focus than I am accustomed to. (4)
Footnotes / imagined complaints
1. True On Average: a modern-day salon catering to self-appointed geniuses...
I enjoyed much of this collection despite initial uncertainty about whether I would find this worth the time. I remained on the fence until I came across the following in an internet review:
'(This) collection is Schopenhauer at his hyper-arrogant best, as self-appointed genius and highbrow aesthete, shooting verbal barbs and passing harsh judgment on everyone and everything in sight...'Say no more! You had me at 'self-appointed genius'...
2. We can't stop! We have to slow down first...
I'm not sure which movie comparison makes more sense here- Spaceball I going from ludicrous speed to zero via the emergency brake or Louis Mendoza scoring against Iceland in the gold medal game.
3. So whose side are you on, again?
I found it funny that, somehow, both critics and fans of Messy found ways to compare it to Kondo's bestseller.
4. The analogy of the week, presented by (your brewery here)...
An analogy comes to mind here. A self-trained beer drinker, I almost take my first sips of hard alcohol a little too quickly.
With focused effort, I'm able to slow down. I think books like The Waves require a related approach- I'll need to focus on taking it in a little slower than usual to maximize the value of it.
