A playful, analytical, informed, and poetic exploration of the delight and transformative power of real-life encounters. The light touch of a hairdresser’s hands on one’s scalp, the euphoric energy of a nightclub, huddling with strangers under a shelter in the rain, a spontaneous snowball fight in the street, a daily interaction with a homeless man―such mundane connections, when we closely inhabit the same space, and touch or are touched by others, were nearly lost to “social distancing.” Will we ever again shake hands without a thought? In this deeply rewarding book, Andy Field brings together history, science, psychology, queer theory, and pop culture with his love of urban life and his own experiences―both as a city-dweller and as a performance artist―to forge creative connections: walking hand-in-hand with strangers, knocking on doors, staging encounters in parked cars. In considering twelve different kinds of encounters, from car rides to video calls to dog-walker chats in the park, Field argues “that in the spontaneity and joy of our meetings with each other, we might find the faint outline of a better future.”
a cool concept and deffffff agree with the premise that interacting with people is the point of life but idk something wasn't working for me to loooove it
I'm wavering between 2 stars and 3 stars. I liked the idea behind the book, but I feel like it could have been cut in half and you still would have gotten the same idea that the author was trying to get across. I am definitely an introvert and would be quite content to sit at home by myself, but I still found a lot of the author's words to ring true. However I found myself skimming toward the end of each section as it felt like a repeat of what he just said, like he was trying to reach a certain word count.
Wonderfully lyrical, deep feeling and entertaining, this is a real love letter to the spontaneous and delightful encounters we open up to when we leave the house. Each essay is carefully crafted, and full of questions that lead the reader onto further contemplation. It makes me think about daily interactions I take for granted, like talking on a video call or holding my husband's hand, in a whole new light.
I wish I could say I loved it, but I just didn't. Very cute concept, and I'm a big advocate for in-person encounters, but the execution wasn't it for me. I just got a little bored?
Someone else may love this book, but it just wasn't my cup of tea.
"Care" is a word that repeats through Andy Feld's writing. He uses it when describing the strange but familiar comfort provided by a barber when our jugular is exposed. He uses it to describe the mechanical embrace of a robotic hand (p.271) to generate empathy. Ending the book, he lists some fun and hilarious ways to pay the book forward to a stranger, to ensure our own encounter, and asks that it be done with care. Care seems a healthy response to the post-covid world, and maybe the only generative one available.
"Encounterism" is a quirky but accurate way to describe the regular moments of friction that permeates our lived experience. In a post-covid world where articles on loneliness and social media's distorted mirror proliferate, we still encounter difficulties or problems that are interruptions to our own desires (p.37). In these essays, Feld describes a place, a technology or an activity that elicits the encounter . These days we may be more accurately described digital flaneurs, disconnected from our bodies without conscious thought. Nevertheless, we meet versions of ourselves in shared encounters. Haughty nightclubs, community parks, backs of car seats and movie theaters give us physical space to relate differently, and be different.
Reading these essays, I became attuned to Andy Feld's joy and imagination. Moments where he shares himself and his work is the most rewarding. At times he describes his interactions working with kids and honors their visions of the future. His embodied experiences nervously waiting in a barbershop or wanting to have a sensory experience at a nightclub are written with great honesty and detail. Given Feld's theater background and openness to experience, I enjoyed imagining these experiences if they were crafted into scenes of improv and fringe theater. Many of the references he gives were enthralling and artistically centered such as photographers or wild bourgeoisie parties.
Strongly recommend the first chapter about the barbershop in particular. A great mix of social commentary, experience of the self and some thoughtful insights into our ancestral past. The chapter also showcases his strong attention to detail such as the Steve James "City so Real" documentary. This attention to detail flourishes in other chapters too, such as the John Updike "Spring Rain" references or the euphoric nightclub leitmotif of "Your Love".
At times Field's essays spring from topic to topic and the experience can be a bit exhausting, but it's a small price to pay for the new contours and exploration of places that seem so familiar and so strange.
I loved the cover and general idea, but it was not what I had imagined. The author streamed from one topic to another. Unfortunately, the connections between the aspects of the topic were weak and rambling. I was mostly disappointed. It may be a matter of too high expectations. The first topic in the book was about getting a haircut. Snatches of ideas drifted in and out during his discussion but it had a meandering feel I was happy when the chapter ended. My thoughts and feelings about getting a haircut are entirely different from his, but I felt that he was stretching out his writing. I would have preferred a more edited and polished essay about getting a haircut.
There are nine chapters with "Notes on Sources' at the end of the book that directs you to the articles read in preparation for this book.
You may have a different experience. To me, the word "encounter" brings back the groups in that I participated back in the 1970s, we spent a couple of hours each time sitting on bean bags in a circle. We learned how to build trust, and that invited us to be daring in what we said and what we revealed about ourselves. Because of years of experience in those groups and sometimes leading them, I was very disappointed in the overall content and depth of the essays.
I loved this book from start to end. A joyful, thoughtful, poetic exploration of everyday human encounters, reframing these overlooked moments as the unique and beautiful encounters that they are. Each chapter looks at a different encounter - such as getting a haircut, going to the cinema, or holding hands - and through a blending together of personal stories with other elements like social history, art, science, psychology, Field creates a fascinating, expansive portrait. A portrait that is so joyous and insightful that I couldn't help but see my own everyday interactions in a whole new light. It was a real gift to be gently shown a new way of seeing the world. The kind of book I would recommend to anyone I like, as it’s such a beautiful and enjoyable read!
(rounded up from 3.5 stars) This was pleasant and surprisingly inclusive-- there were many points where I was about to complain "well, that's easy for you to say as a straight, white, nondisabled cis man" and then the author actually would consider his privilege and various other identities' perceptions of some aspect of togetherness-- though I will admit I'm not super into performance art and a lot of this book was just about various performance art pieces.
I also found that sometimes the language was excessively flowery, like the author didn't trust his paragraphs about some specific, fascinating social interaction to stand alone so he'd toss in a couple of "here we are, together at the end of the world as the lights go up" type sentences.
This book tried to be so many things, and it somehow couldn't be any of them? I had high hopes and felt like the book started alright, then got progressively worse. It went from casual meandering to just unorganized pretentious rambling. I'm not usually one to give really low ratings, a lot of books are decent and maybe just not for me, but I started getting fed up trying to finish this book. It seems like the author is one of those "I'm enlightened and soooooo sad that I'm more enlightened than everyone else. Let me ramble about how sad that is and throw in bits and pieces of miscellaneous info and expressionism through art and see if people will give me money." I was more enlightened and learned more from the book The Anxious Generation by Jonathan Haidt and that book wasn't even written on the topic. Huge unorganized messy let down.
A delightful meandering sociology read that delves into the various ways we connect with one another. Andy Field's prose feels like you've just sat down with a random stranger who is sharing their experiences and musings with you. A bit scattered in parts, the work weaves its way through the last 150-odd years pulling on examples of how interactions in various forms have forever changed the way we interact as a society in a sort of association game. Easy to pick up and put down for busier readers. Each chapter and subchapter reads like a little vignette. I am particularly fond of the postscript which highlights ways to share this book with others; bringing them into the conversation.
I've been thinking about being in person with others a lot since the Covid quarantine. After that I moved out from my childhood home where I grew up with 4 generations/8-6 people to now live in apartment with my husband and cat in a neighborhood where we don't know anyone. I am an extrovert and desperately need people, but I'm also shy. The authors little stories are good reminders about the joys of being in person for a time when we're all often focused on the potential awkwardness, tense situations, or even danger. Having community is worth the risks and this is a good addition to the literature on the subject.
I felt this book had attractive elements but never quite surpassed the sum of its parts... the writing was lyrical and I generally appreciated his arguments about care and accessibility, but it seemed to lack any animating force. At times, the author seemed to romanticize working class jobs in ways that seemed patronizing or reductive, even with such carefully tailored language describing privilege. I appreciated the "object study" chapters (i.e., of the automobile) more than the broader essays, which seemed a little trite.
I really loved spending time with this book. Andy Field guides us through a series of perfectly ordinary situations (going to the cinema, dancing in a club, walking in a park) and invites us to reflect on the hidden wonders of each moment shared with friends, family and even strangers. Every one of his anecdotes made me pause and add my own to the mix. 100% a book that made me notice – and feel grateful for – the everyday magic of life.
I bought this book as a sort of supporter/preparation for some social research I had been doing. From bookstore reviews and a skim of pages it seemed like this would be a good read on "the neglected joys of being in person."
I found it to be overall boring, lackluster and long winded. I don't believe it accomplished anything laid out in the back of book summary.
Was really excited to read this one, honestly a sore disappointment. Giving it 2 stars instead of 1 because it's not awful.
“Thank you to all the strangers I have sheltered from the rain with and all of the strangers I have argued in the park with. Thank you to the bodies on the dance floor and the screams in the movie theater. Thank you to everyone whose hand I have ever held, out of love or solidarity or fear.”
Such a lovely and heartwarming book about encounters with strangers, human nature, and the communities we share with the public. A bit slow at times but an interesting read!
A melodic take on urban environments, which, oddly, seem less populated by the human encounters than promised in the title despite their obvious presence.
Started off promising but never found a consistent stride. I like the premise but the author veered into summaries of his performance art too often and I was like huh?
I stopped at 150p. Honestly I couldn’t get into it at all. Interesting symbolic interactionalists perspective but just no connecting storyline. Very slow.
I love the randomness of the stories and how at the end everything is connected. Every sense of being is a story - the shame, the awkwardness, the heroic action, is to seek connection.