A delightful book about reclaiming pleasure in mid-life—a potent mix of self-help and memoir, from one of today’s wittiest, wisest voices.
"I have done everything right, and I have missed everything."
When did our lives become entirely about efficiency and optimization? Especially as office workers, as parents, as consumers, as exercisers and healthy eaters. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could all be less useful?
With self-deprecating humor, devastating insight, and bracing honesty, Priyanka Mattoo shares her own journey toward being a less useful human, to investigate why pleasure gets back-burnered in American culture.
Think about what we choose to systematically cut out or overlook as we mature: Solo travel. Dessert. Sweaty dancing. "Pointless" hangs with friends. And then there are the activities that used to be fun and have somehow lost their luster, usually in the decade between 30 and 40: Cooking (ruined by exhaustion). Bad tv (the algorithm). Other humans (bandwidth). Eating at restaurants (Instagram).
Mattoo takes on the zeitgeist, delivering invaluable, laugh-out-loud entertaining life lessons without an ounce of preachiness or pressure. She looks at where pleasure begins, what it serves, how we learn to repress it—in families, in friendships and romantic relationships, in jobs. And she shows us a way back: to identify and accept the things that give us pleasure, then to welcome them into our lives. What if, instead of being useful, we could all learn how to be happier, lighter, more present, more engaged? How to Be Less Useful is refreshing, funny, sparklingly astute, unignorable--a book for the current moment.
I received an ARC of this book, and I loved it. I think the best writers are able to suck you in and make you identify with them even when you are different, and this author did that. I am not an immigrant or a parent, two strong aspects of her identity, and yet I kept feeling like she “got me” and like my best friend could have written this.
I love how unpretentious she is, how she recognizes both her privileges and challenges together. She acknowledges fights with her husband while simultaneously describing him with utmost love and respect and kindness. It feels real, and like I would love to be her friend. Warm.
The plot of the essays does follow her overall desire to control less in her life, to set better boundaries and priorities, to understand who and why she is how she is. I loved how each essay both built on the previous ones and could stand alone. Sometimes it feels like authors just throw a bunch of stories together, and this felt better thought-out and intentional. I never felt preached at, but I felt I was choosing strategies and ideas to take and improve my own life cadences. I used one this morning. Beautiful book.
“What if I simply exist?” is my new mantra. This lovely collection of essays resonates with me, especially as someone whose hobbies include ruminating and being helpful. Priyanka Mattoo tackles our relentless urge to be, or appear to be, useful and self-sufficient, challenging our understanding of what joy should feel like. Needless to say, I highlighted the whole book. Extra points to the author for including a bibliography and a further reading list.
This was way more memoir than commentary, with each chapter reading like its own personal essay. That made it a really easy read, and I thought the writing was excellent. Since I wasn’t familiar with the author beforehand, though, some of the life lessons told through her own experiences didn’t resonate as strongly with me. Still, this was a thoughtful, well-written, and very readable book—just a little different from what I expected going in.
Thank you to Knopf for the advanced reading copy of this book.
Mattoo captured my attention with her opening lines to each chapter. She’s a gifted writer, and this was a fairly easy read.
I loved her statement, “I have done everything right, and I have missed everything.” I really wish that, in the latter half of the book, she explored more about the “how” to not miss so much.
In opposition to the title, this didn’t read like a how-to guide. It was not self-help at all, in my opinion. It’s more of a collection of (incredibly well-written) essays about Mattoo’s life, some of which felt like diary entries. A handful of chapters were quite separate from the overall theme of being “less useful”, but I enjoyed it all.