The pleasures and sorrows of Alain de Botton.

I have always rather enjoyed books by Alain de Botton. I really enjoyed Status Anxiety, although I'm hard-pressed to remember anything about it, now that I think of it, and I also liked The Art of Travel. Truth be told, though, I think I enjoy his subjects and the formats of his books more than I actually enjoy his style; Status Anxiety was about how we all try to keep up with each other in what we own and the affluence we project; it also included a number of photographs which served to break up de Botton's sometimes dense text.

The same goes for his most recent book, The Pleasures and Sorrows of Work. I read it over the last weekend and found it quite enjoyable, although once again the inclusion of photographs really helped it along. In the book he examines a number of different professions, but he doesn't so much investigate them as he ruminates on them, and sometimes from afar.* (In a chapter seemingly about transmission engineering, electricity, and the structure and construction of electric line pylons, he describes the work from the somewhat removed vantage point of walking along a trail of pylons across southeast England with a pylon installer and enthusiast, describing less the actual process of pylon installation than the willingness of human beings to ignore such fundamentally basic and important structures in their lives and surroundings.)

I don't know that this is an author I'd like to have a conversation with (he seems a bit prickly sometimes**) and sometimes I did get the feeling he's in love with the sound of his own voice, as when he describes his experiences at an aviation conference:

"At the stand of the world's second-largest engine manufacturer, I spent some minutes observing an unusually attractive young saleswoman with shoulder-length chestnut hair, dressed in a beige suit, who was biting the nail of her left index finger and crossing her slender legs whilst leaning against a large fan blade. She was not the first of her type I had seen that day, but something about her appearance left me thoughtful. I had until then believed that the vendors' frequent and deliberate reliance on feminine appeal was merely a vulgar stratagem intended to win over airline executives, through an implicit suggestion that a purchase might bring them closer to intimacy with a sales agent. Now I began to see the matter differently: it seemed obvious that no order, however lucrative, would actually render these women available to buyers, so their presence on the stands took on a more poignant and commercially effective dimension. Their real function was to serve as a reminder of the unavailability of beauty to an overwhelmingly male, middle-aged and harried-looking base of customers..."

I just don't know about all that. And it seemed to take a long time for de Botton to say. But overall? The subject matter and the photographs still won the day; the chapter on accountancy was a wonder to behold, and I simply love all books about work, the way only someone who really tries to avoid work at all costs can.

*Except for his chapter on tuna fishing, which is alarmingly in-depth. If you like tuna (and by this I mean, like having it in a sandwich) and you want to keep on liking tuna, I would suggest not reading the tuna chapter.

**Although I was a bit tickled that he told a reviewer who gave this book a less than sparkling review "I will hate you till the day I die and wish you nothing but ill will in every career move you make." There he was able to get something said with remarkable economy of words! Reviewers of course have the right to actually review books, and authors have the right to respond, so his prickliness doesn't really bother me here.

Comments

[Diana Raabe]

Thanks for a fine review; you've helped me decide whether or not I will buy this book. I like de Botton, too, particularly The Consolations of Philosophy and The Art of Travel.

[Robert Brown]

I read a rather negative review of this book in the NYT. I wonder if it was the reviewer de Botton now despises.

Speaking as a writer, I cannot condone such arrogance. What a sodding git, I say. You've no right to attack a reviewer, even a reviewer who has trashed your book, even with malice aforethought.

Be thankful someone read it, and move on to the next book.

The nerve of some people!

Was he having the reviewer on, do you suppose? The career-move line makes me wonder. It certainly isn't a bullet riddled copy of the review, or a severed horse-head in the bed.

I eat tuna often. Let's move along, shall we, I beg of you.

[Citizen Reader]

Diana,
I'm glad it was helpful to you. Re-reading it now, I'm not sure if it's a negative or a positive review, so I'm not entirely sure which way your purchasing decision went. But that's all right. Although now I just hope de Botton doesn't start to wish me ill in every career move I make. The joke will be on him--I make as few career moves as possible.

Bert,
I'm pretty sure the NYT review was the one to which de Botton was angrily responding. If I find the energy later I'll try and confirm that.

Ooh, "sodding git," you're making me homesick for Great Britain. I think that's a fair assessment. But really, if I'm going to defend the right of the reviewers to say whatever they want (including things like "Jodi Picoult is making us dumber as a nation"), then I kind of have to defend the authors' rights to defend their own honor in whatever way they see fit. I doubt very much he was having the reviewer on, but I could be wrong about that; I also doubt that he has the power to really cause any lasting damage to the reviewer's future career. I'll hope he doesn't have access to any horse heads.

Yes, moving on. I like tuna too, so I would suggest you skip this book and you'll be much happier about eating the tuna. It's a fair trade.

[Eva]

I just finished listening to Status Anxiety! It was my third Botton this year, and I really love his style. :)

[Thomas]

My experience with Status Anxiety is the opposite of yours. I didn't much enjoy it, but I DO remember something interesting from it. The notion that most folks don't get status anxiety thinking about Donald Trump buying a yacht, but they do get it when they think about a neighbor or a co-worker buying something incrementally better than something they themselves own.

Beyond that, I don't rember a thing.

[Citizen Reader]

Yes, Thomas, I do think Alain de Botton's strength is less in his writing than in his way of coming at topics. I must admit I don't remember much of Status Anxiety either, other than thinking how sad how much energy goes into trying to keep up with our neighbors. So I had to give him kudos for turning that thought into a book.