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whichthreewords's review
4.0
Definitely get the audiobook -- each section is pretty in-depth, and is best experienced while out walking yourself!
jwsg's review
3.0
In Horowitz's book, On Looking, Horowitz walks around her NYC neighbourhood with 11 different individuals with very different ways of looking at the world: a typographer, a geologist, Horowitz's toddler son, a blind person, a sound engineer, a dog, illustrator Maira Kalman, a field naturalist, a wildlife scientist, a staff member from the Project for Public Spaces and a doctor. Horowitz notes that "at a basic level...paying attention is simply making a selection among all the stimuli bombarding you at any one moment". But paying attention necessarily requires filtering, to then deliberately be inattentive to other things in your environment. We each have our own ways of filtering and looking at the world - based on our backgrounds, education and training, etc. (In some ways, it's a little like how the solutions we propose to problems are very much shaped by our training/background; how a neurologist might diagnose a persistent headache as a sign that something is going on with the brain, while a TCM practitioner might say that your body is out of balance and prescribe some blend of herbs and acupuncture to rebalance the body, or a chiropractor might suggest that some misalignment of the spine might account for the pains.)
Horowitz tries to shift her frame of reference by taking walks with other individuals, and in those few hours, trying to see the world through their lenses. With the typographer, she notices the riot of fonts in the landscape, with her toddler son, the fascination of previously overlooked details like the hiss of steam from ventilation shafts and the multitude of triangles on the handrails of the stairs. In a heavily urbanised environment like NYC, it takes walks with the geologist, the field naturalist and the wildlife scientist to point out all the signs of Nature in the city, if we just care to look. From Kalman, Horowitz learns that you can get inspiration if you just open yourself to the potential of random objects - a couch sitting forlornly on the sidewalk, bags of trash waiting for the garbage truck to arrive. From the sound engineer and the blind person, Horowitz is reminded that we experience the environment through senses other than sight - that our experience of the city is shaped as much by its sounds and smells as it is by its sights.
When I read William Whyte's The Social Life of Small Urban Spaces or Jan Gehl's Life Between Buildings: Using Public Space, they made me look at urban spaces in a completely different way. Likewise, reading Simon Garfield's Just My Type made me pay closer attention to the fonts surrounding me. There's a little bit of that in On Looking - where it's made me more conscious about what I'm paying attention to - and what I'm inattentive to - in my environment, and how I might look at the city using different lenses. That's what made the book for me. What I found frustrating though (which makes this a three star, rather than a four star rating) is that while On Looking is split into several short, standalone chapters, I found Horowitz's writing a little tedious to plough through at times.
Horowitz tries to shift her frame of reference by taking walks with other individuals, and in those few hours, trying to see the world through their lenses. With the typographer, she notices the riot of fonts in the landscape, with her toddler son, the fascination of previously overlooked details like the hiss of steam from ventilation shafts and the multitude of triangles on the handrails of the stairs. In a heavily urbanised environment like NYC, it takes walks with the geologist, the field naturalist and the wildlife scientist to point out all the signs of Nature in the city, if we just care to look. From Kalman, Horowitz learns that you can get inspiration if you just open yourself to the potential of random objects - a couch sitting forlornly on the sidewalk, bags of trash waiting for the garbage truck to arrive. From the sound engineer and the blind person, Horowitz is reminded that we experience the environment through senses other than sight - that our experience of the city is shaped as much by its sounds and smells as it is by its sights.
When I read William Whyte's The Social Life of Small Urban Spaces or Jan Gehl's Life Between Buildings: Using Public Space, they made me look at urban spaces in a completely different way. Likewise, reading Simon Garfield's Just My Type made me pay closer attention to the fonts surrounding me. There's a little bit of that in On Looking - where it's made me more conscious about what I'm paying attention to - and what I'm inattentive to - in my environment, and how I might look at the city using different lenses. That's what made the book for me. What I found frustrating though (which makes this a three star, rather than a four star rating) is that while On Looking is split into several short, standalone chapters, I found Horowitz's writing a little tedious to plough through at times.
leafdmcg's review
4.0
Fascinating, mostly. Could have been 5, but a little prolix and indulgent at times
heckmanity's review against another edition
4.0
Some chapters (and the perspectives of the guest walkers in those chapters) definitely engaged me & grabbed me more than others, which I suppose was to be expected, but overall this was an enjoyable reminder of all the stories that surround us if we only look for them and "take the longcut."
pattydsf's review
3.0
“A walk is exploring surfaces and textures with finger, toe, and—yuck—tongue; standing still and seeing who or what comes by; trying out different forms of locomotion (among them running, marching, high-kicking, galloping, scooting, projectile falling, spinning, and noisy shuffling). It is archeology: exploring the bit of discarded candy wrapper; collecting a fistful of pebbles and a twig and a torn corner of a paperback; swishing dirt back and forth along the ground. It is stopping to admire the murmuring of the breeze in the trees; locating the source of the bird’s song; pointing. Pointing!— using the arm to extend one’s fallen gaze so someone else can see what you’ve seen. It is a time of sharing.”
I really wanted to like this book. Overall, it wasn’t bad – I just wanted it to be better. To be honest, if I want a book to be “better” maybe my expectations don’t match up what the author is trying to do. My lack of connection is more likely my problem than the author’s.
Horowitz is attempting to get her readers to pay more attention. She knows, from watching others, that we don’t see much when we are in a familiar place. I know that I don’t see much on my daily drive to the gym or my weekly trip to church. There is much more going on. So, I am grateful for Horowitz’s premise. She takes various walks with a diverse group who see their environment through different passions (rocks), different senses (blindness) or different ages (her young son). All this is good – there just seemed to be something missing.
As I look through the book one more time, I think my issue is with the voice that Horowitz uses to tell her tale. It seems inactive to me. I am not sure I am explaining this correctly, but I might have liked the essays more if in some of them I felt like an active participant. I don’t have this right – I may have more to say after my book group meets.
I like the premise of this book, maybe I just wanted more than Horowitz actually promised.
I really wanted to like this book. Overall, it wasn’t bad – I just wanted it to be better. To be honest, if I want a book to be “better” maybe my expectations don’t match up what the author is trying to do. My lack of connection is more likely my problem than the author’s.
Horowitz is attempting to get her readers to pay more attention. She knows, from watching others, that we don’t see much when we are in a familiar place. I know that I don’t see much on my daily drive to the gym or my weekly trip to church. There is much more going on. So, I am grateful for Horowitz’s premise. She takes various walks with a diverse group who see their environment through different passions (rocks), different senses (blindness) or different ages (her young son). All this is good – there just seemed to be something missing.
As I look through the book one more time, I think my issue is with the voice that Horowitz uses to tell her tale. It seems inactive to me. I am not sure I am explaining this correctly, but I might have liked the essays more if in some of them I felt like an active participant. I don’t have this right – I may have more to say after my book group meets.
I like the premise of this book, maybe I just wanted more than Horowitz actually promised.
kaylielongley's review
4.0
In 2019, I am setting 19 goals for myself. On Goodreads, that's 36 books. In real life, one goal is scheduling time for adventure, at least once a week. Alexandra Horowitz' nonfiction book, On Looking, encourages just that.
Sometimes, I get stuck. Horowitz, a cognitive psychologist and avid walker, suggests I need to go outside, sometimes with a companion, to get a fresh perspective. But she got 11. Though it's not quite 11 walks around the same block, it reads like a love letter to New York: tangents (and walks) are winding, and some stories feel more personal. The footnotes, clearly inspired by Oliver Sacks, often miss the clever mark. The so-called experts include her son, dog, and various professionals, in sound engineering, physical therapy, typography, and much more. I'm not sure how she found these folks, or why she chose them, but the richest material highlights their passions: on these walks, neglected couches are flipped over, letters on windows are "pregnant", and only certain spots are suitable for dog peeing.
Yet despite the promise of 11 consistent paths (and thus creating a constant variable), I loved the conversations between the author and her blind companion, thoughtful and reflective. The bookends, a walk with her toddler and pup, add depth by reminding me to pause, sniff, and laugh at the mundane. Horowitz wants to be perceived as an expert social scientist, but she is full of zest and curiosity, and that is her strength. I learn a mouse can fit into a dime-sized hole. That sometimes a bug's path grows larger as the bug himself does, too.
Life is all about one's perception, and On Looking reminds me to keep exploring.
Sometimes, I get stuck. Horowitz, a cognitive psychologist and avid walker, suggests I need to go outside, sometimes with a companion, to get a fresh perspective. But she got 11. Though it's not quite 11 walks around the same block, it reads like a love letter to New York: tangents (and walks) are winding, and some stories feel more personal. The footnotes, clearly inspired by Oliver Sacks, often miss the clever mark. The so-called experts include her son, dog, and various professionals, in sound engineering, physical therapy, typography, and much more. I'm not sure how she found these folks, or why she chose them, but the richest material highlights their passions: on these walks, neglected couches are flipped over, letters on windows are "pregnant", and only certain spots are suitable for dog peeing.
Yet despite the promise of 11 consistent paths (and thus creating a constant variable), I loved the conversations between the author and her blind companion, thoughtful and reflective. The bookends, a walk with her toddler and pup, add depth by reminding me to pause, sniff, and laugh at the mundane. Horowitz wants to be perceived as an expert social scientist, but she is full of zest and curiosity, and that is her strength. I learn a mouse can fit into a dime-sized hole. That sometimes a bug's path grows larger as the bug himself does, too.
Life is all about one's perception, and On Looking reminds me to keep exploring.
clubsanwich's review
An insightful and interesting concept. Just wish the writing was more concise. It was difficult to get immersed in the stories when it was so verbose.