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darrellreads2much 's review for:
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry Into Values
by Robert M. Pirsig
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance has a surprising number of detractors in the world.
Despite being widely hailed as a cultural touchstone, Pirsig's most popular work seems to strike the modern reader as average-at-best, didactic and boomerish (if that is a word) at worst.
Perhaps it's a case of mistaken identity, as it is not at all what it claims to be, and suffers from the potholes associated with both what it claims and what it actually is, its "underlying form," as Pirsig would say.
Is it a philosophical text? No, not really. Pirsig has his views on how you should view the world, but they're never opinionated enough to come off as messianic. Pirsig simply gives an account of his story, of how he views (or used to view) the world. Which is good, but makes this not a philosophy essay. Next.
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance can sort of be described as "autofiction." While it's in the first-person, and is by all accounts true, Pirsig is trying to tell a story. Naturally, reality doesn't hold up to suspense, so the "story" here is limited in its capabilities. As such, I can't speak to the nature of the characters, as they, well, if we take Pirsig's word, aren't really characters.
Where Pirsig succeeds, is in making a hybrid philosophy lecture that combines the road novel, long swathes of hypotheticals and ramblings, fully explained references, and a great deal of knowledge and questioning that can be implemented daily in one's life. It's the prime example of a book that readily points to what it's talking about, even 50-odd years down the road.
Regardless of whether you agree with Pirsig's current or past philosophy, this text is a feat of approachability without sacrificing content. Which is saying something in this day and age. On top of that, his biography, a good deal of which is given here, is fascinating. The man has quite a story to tell. The question of whether or not you'll like this book is whether or not you'll like Pirsig.
(The other question, apparently, is whether or not you blame schizophrenics for schizophrenia. One review in particular seemed to critique this book for just that reason. Not the issue I thought anyone would have with this novel, but hey, I guess everyone has an opinion.)
I like Pirsig. I find the philosophy approachable, fun, and deeply interesting. In addition, this book functions as an account of the beauty of the world long after hope has become diminished. However, as Pirsig starts the book off with, it talks little of Zen. Or of motorcycle maintenance.
Despite being widely hailed as a cultural touchstone, Pirsig's most popular work seems to strike the modern reader as average-at-best, didactic and boomerish (if that is a word) at worst.
Perhaps it's a case of mistaken identity, as it is not at all what it claims to be, and suffers from the potholes associated with both what it claims and what it actually is, its "underlying form," as Pirsig would say.
Is it a philosophical text? No, not really. Pirsig has his views on how you should view the world, but they're never opinionated enough to come off as messianic. Pirsig simply gives an account of his story, of how he views (or used to view) the world. Which is good, but makes this not a philosophy essay. Next.
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance can sort of be described as "autofiction." While it's in the first-person, and is by all accounts true, Pirsig is trying to tell a story. Naturally, reality doesn't hold up to suspense, so the "story" here is limited in its capabilities. As such, I can't speak to the nature of the characters, as they, well, if we take Pirsig's word, aren't really characters.
Where Pirsig succeeds, is in making a hybrid philosophy lecture that combines the road novel, long swathes of hypotheticals and ramblings, fully explained references, and a great deal of knowledge and questioning that can be implemented daily in one's life. It's the prime example of a book that readily points to what it's talking about, even 50-odd years down the road.
Regardless of whether you agree with Pirsig's current or past philosophy, this text is a feat of approachability without sacrificing content. Which is saying something in this day and age. On top of that, his biography, a good deal of which is given here, is fascinating. The man has quite a story to tell. The question of whether or not you'll like this book is whether or not you'll like Pirsig.
(The other question, apparently, is whether or not you blame schizophrenics for schizophrenia. One review in particular seemed to critique this book for just that reason. Not the issue I thought anyone would have with this novel, but hey, I guess everyone has an opinion.)
I like Pirsig. I find the philosophy approachable, fun, and deeply interesting. In addition, this book functions as an account of the beauty of the world long after hope has become diminished. However, as Pirsig starts the book off with, it talks little of Zen. Or of motorcycle maintenance.