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damsorrow's review against another edition
3.0
Does what it says on the tin, which unfortunately does not include much by way of synthesis, especially in the face of 190 (really) individual synopses. Which is a pain because Simon Critchley's voice is funny, warm, interesting, and I would very much like to buy him a drink. I have been reading this book all day and now I am writing like he does. Hello guys, I'm Simon Critchley.
I still want my epitaph to be a lyrical excerpt from Prince's "Darling Nikki:" "Thank U 4 A Funky Time/Call Me Up Whenever U Want 2 Grind."
I still want my epitaph to be a lyrical excerpt from Prince's "Darling Nikki:" "Thank U 4 A Funky Time/Call Me Up Whenever U Want 2 Grind."
lucyking's review
will continue later on. Liked the premise and was entertaining. Not in the mood
gregbrown's review
2.0
This was hugely disappointing, and probably because it's not that good.
The premise of the book is actually pretty interesting: illustrate the various philosophies to death by recounting the personal deaths (and lives) of famous philosophers throughout history and how that compared or contrasted with their philosophy. However, there are a few mistakes that Critchley makes in telling the tales:
- Trying to tell the stories of over 190 different philosophers... in a 250 page book.
- Unable to decide whether the capsule biograpies are meant to be read in sequence or at will.
- Immediately - and with little supporting evidence - imposing his own viewpoint in the picture and allowing it to warp his histories without any apparent consideration of alternative stances beyond mere recounting.
As a result, Critchley rarely manages to eke any depth out of the philosophers discussed. This isn't too much of a problem early on in the greek philosophers, whose differences can be bluntly hashed out without too much loss in detail. But once he gets to medieval times, the enterprise starts to fall apart. (More later.)
Critchley's prose is merely middling, despite being specifically praised by Lewis Lapham (who normally has excellent taste as showcased in Lapham's Quarterly). His tone is so bland that it seems equally ill-suited to discussing philosophy or humorous anecdotes, despite being employed in the service of both. Sometimes there enough transitions between sections to indicate they were meant to be read as a whole, but other times they seem almost slapdash. Even when we're being given the These Are Connected signposts, there doesn't seem to be much added by their juxtaposition.
Finally, the whole book is semi-stifled by Critchley himself, who declares his position from the beginning and never ceases to remind you whether he agrees or disagrees with the author at hand. This is ok when it comes to constructing philosophy, but not when you're laying claim to exegenesis (deciphering the meaning of texts) or recounting their lives in a historically-accurate manner. But yet it does, and the result is that I was deeply suspicious of everything Critchley said. And because he slammed all 190 people into only 250 pages, there's very little given in the way of corroborating evidence. Yuck.
I almost wrote this negative review last night at about 100 pages in, but decided to persevere in hopes that it would get better once we reached more modern philosophers with better documentation of their personal lives. It did get better, but only mildly. There were moments that made me laugh, but only a handful in the whole book.
The premise of the book is actually pretty interesting: illustrate the various philosophies to death by recounting the personal deaths (and lives) of famous philosophers throughout history and how that compared or contrasted with their philosophy. However, there are a few mistakes that Critchley makes in telling the tales:
- Trying to tell the stories of over 190 different philosophers... in a 250 page book.
- Unable to decide whether the capsule biograpies are meant to be read in sequence or at will.
- Immediately - and with little supporting evidence - imposing his own viewpoint in the picture and allowing it to warp his histories without any apparent consideration of alternative stances beyond mere recounting.
As a result, Critchley rarely manages to eke any depth out of the philosophers discussed. This isn't too much of a problem early on in the greek philosophers, whose differences can be bluntly hashed out without too much loss in detail. But once he gets to medieval times, the enterprise starts to fall apart. (More later.)
Critchley's prose is merely middling, despite being specifically praised by Lewis Lapham (who normally has excellent taste as showcased in Lapham's Quarterly). His tone is so bland that it seems equally ill-suited to discussing philosophy or humorous anecdotes, despite being employed in the service of both. Sometimes there enough transitions between sections to indicate they were meant to be read as a whole, but other times they seem almost slapdash. Even when we're being given the These Are Connected signposts, there doesn't seem to be much added by their juxtaposition.
Finally, the whole book is semi-stifled by Critchley himself, who declares his position from the beginning and never ceases to remind you whether he agrees or disagrees with the author at hand. This is ok when it comes to constructing philosophy, but not when you're laying claim to exegenesis (deciphering the meaning of texts) or recounting their lives in a historically-accurate manner. But yet it does, and the result is that I was deeply suspicious of everything Critchley said. And because he slammed all 190 people into only 250 pages, there's very little given in the way of corroborating evidence. Yuck.
I almost wrote this negative review last night at about 100 pages in, but decided to persevere in hopes that it would get better once we reached more modern philosophers with better documentation of their personal lives. It did get better, but only mildly. There were moments that made me laugh, but only a handful in the whole book.
The Book of Dead Philosophers would be far better served as a two-part arrangement: a quick survey of the deaths of philosophers, followed by a deeper examination of the handful of philosophers whose work Critchley truly finds valuable. As is, it seems too much like Critchley wants to impress you with his research and then slip a fast one on you by sneaking in his own opinion as fact. I found it frustrating in the same way that I find it frustrating to read The Economist's smug claim to stating The Way Things Are while cutting off at the knees my own ability to critically examine the claims.
In the end, the best praise I can give this book is that it was smoothly-written enough that I was over with it fairly quickly. Only a night and a morning spent, and I'm onward to greener pastures.
lucasmiller's review
5.0
I purchased this book on a whim. I am teaching a class for high school seniors this year called Global Humanities. It is a wonderful idea that sometimes lacks in execution. As I was preparing to begin the school year, my personal definition of the humanities began to spiral somewhat. This book, a compendium of the deaths of some 190 odd philosophers seemed like the perfect companion to my year of teaching reluctant teenagers what it means to be a human in the world.
Lots of the negative reviews for this book (which I often try to refrain from viewing while I'm reading a book) mistake it for something else. Being disappointed because a book isn't the book you think it should be is categorically different than not thinking that a book is good or bad. This is not a text book about the history of philosophy. This not an encyclopedia or a collection of detailed essays on a representative group of philosophers spanning the entire history of philosophy. If you cravenly think the brief chapter on ancient Chinese philosophy is "trendy," or the inclusion throughout of a handful of lesser known female philosophers is a nod to "political correctness," I think you'd be happier reading philosophy blogs or edited collections. I read this book as a subtle argument being made by the author, as recursive personal essays hidden in the guise of a collection of biographical sketches. It reminded me of David Markson's late quartet of novels beginning with "Reader's Block." Collage, assemblage, commonplace book. These seem much more appropriate ways to describe Mr. Critchley's work than a failed philosophical treatise.
One of the threads that the author pulls through the whole messy collection is that people in the 21st century, particularly in America, have unhealthy views of death and difficult relationships with their own mortality. So it makes sense to disguise a discussion of this topic in a pseudo academic endeavor of collecting stories, myths, and personal anecdotes in relation to the deaths of famous (and less famous) philosophers.
That to philosophize is to learn how to die is the title of the essay of Montaigne from which the books epigraph is taken. Speaking of the necessity to affirm the constraint of our mortality, which defines human freedom, Critchley opines that to philosophize is to learn to love the difficulty of that task. Highly recommended.
Lots of the negative reviews for this book (which I often try to refrain from viewing while I'm reading a book) mistake it for something else. Being disappointed because a book isn't the book you think it should be is categorically different than not thinking that a book is good or bad. This is not a text book about the history of philosophy. This not an encyclopedia or a collection of detailed essays on a representative group of philosophers spanning the entire history of philosophy. If you cravenly think the brief chapter on ancient Chinese philosophy is "trendy," or the inclusion throughout of a handful of lesser known female philosophers is a nod to "political correctness," I think you'd be happier reading philosophy blogs or edited collections. I read this book as a subtle argument being made by the author, as recursive personal essays hidden in the guise of a collection of biographical sketches. It reminded me of David Markson's late quartet of novels beginning with "Reader's Block." Collage, assemblage, commonplace book. These seem much more appropriate ways to describe Mr. Critchley's work than a failed philosophical treatise.
One of the threads that the author pulls through the whole messy collection is that people in the 21st century, particularly in America, have unhealthy views of death and difficult relationships with their own mortality. So it makes sense to disguise a discussion of this topic in a pseudo academic endeavor of collecting stories, myths, and personal anecdotes in relation to the deaths of famous (and less famous) philosophers.
That to philosophize is to learn how to die is the title of the essay of Montaigne from which the books epigraph is taken. Speaking of the necessity to affirm the constraint of our mortality, which defines human freedom, Critchley opines that to philosophize is to learn to love the difficulty of that task. Highly recommended.
schildpad's review
2.0
Probably would not have finished this book (as quickly) if not for the interesting times in which we are living, leaving me with too much time to do nothing (and thus read).
Three thoughts, the first one somewhat philosophical, the other critical and the last one neither of those two things.
1) Critchley wants his readers to contemplate and meditate on death and the role death plays in our lives. He also argues for an approach to philosophy which does not disregard the lives of philosophers. These two things I found to be incompatible.
2) The witty style did not work for me as well: it felt like Critchley tried to take on too much at once. AND philosophical discussion of death, AND providing us funny/interesting stories of the deaths of philosophers AND presenting their thinking as one with their work. He should've chosen one approach, I think. Now the book was neither truly funny, nor all that interesting (spoiler: most deaths were really quite boring): presenting the discussed philosophers exactly as the stereotypes I already encountered in every other introduction to philosophy.
3) I do not really want to know what it says about me that I already knew every single actual interesting death in this book (the story of how Bacon died continues to be my favourite). I wish my memory for useful things was as good as my memory for morbid facts and details.
Would not recommend. Although it was better than staring at the walls and pacing through my room I guess.
Three thoughts, the first one somewhat philosophical, the other critical and the last one neither of those two things.
1) Critchley wants his readers to contemplate and meditate on death and the role death plays in our lives. He also argues for an approach to philosophy which does not disregard the lives of philosophers. These two things I found to be incompatible.
2) The witty style did not work for me as well: it felt like Critchley tried to take on too much at once. AND philosophical discussion of death, AND providing us funny/interesting stories of the deaths of philosophers AND presenting their thinking as one with their work. He should've chosen one approach, I think. Now the book was neither truly funny, nor all that interesting (spoiler: most deaths were really quite boring): presenting the discussed philosophers exactly as the stereotypes I already encountered in every other introduction to philosophy.
3) I do not really want to know what it says about me that I already knew every single actual interesting death in this book (the story of how Bacon died continues to be my favourite). I wish my memory for useful things was as good as my memory for morbid facts and details.
Would not recommend. Although it was better than staring at the walls and pacing through my room I guess.
nestnebula's review against another edition
4.0
I powered through this book. Really loved it- my only critique is that too many of the sections are too short- I just feel like I wanted to know more about some of these historical characters before I found out how they died. Some I'm familiar with already, but many I hadn't been introduced to yet.
againsley's review against another edition
2.0
what the hell was the point of this book? it was like reading who magazine for philosophy geeks. super shallow. the thing i'm angriest about is that this book is so utterly forgettable that one day in the future i will probably accidentally read it again.
lnprad's review against another edition
3.0
So many funny jokes in this book. The one about the volcano to justify his immorality. The one about the bean field or the one about the recently whipped horse and insanity. The one about defenestration. I laughed and laughed.
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