"This book, a polished, winding meditation on the theory and fractiousness of motorcycles, celebrates both their eccentric history and the wary pleasures of touring."― The New Yorker In a book that is "a must for anyone who has loved a motorcycle" (Oliver Sacks), Melissa Pierson captures in vivid, writerly prose the mysterious attractions of motorcycling. She sifts through myth and hyperbole: misrepresentations about danger, about the type of people who ride and why they do so. The Perfect Vehicle is not a mere recitation of facts, nor is it a polemic or apologia. Its vivid historical accounts-the beginnings of the machine, the often hidden tradition of women who ride, the tale of the defiant ones who taunt death on the racetrack-are intertwined with Pierson's own story, which, in itself, shows that although you may think you know what kind of person rides a motorcycle, you probably don't.
Melissa Holbrook Pierson is the author of the acclaimed Dark Horses and Black Beauties, The Perfect Vehicle, The Place You Love Is Gone, and her newest book, The Man Who Would Stop At Nothing was published in the fall of 2011.
"(and where is the Susan Sontag who will write an erotics of highly specialized equipment?)" the author bemoans, oblivious that she is the damn closest thing. The Perfect Vehicle is the book every author before and after Pierson wanted to write about motorcycles but couldn't. In lieu of trite wanderlust narratives and tired outlaw tales, she so poetically tells us the joy of simply fitting with the machine and taking off on it. The book is periodically dissected into tales from, thoughts about, and history of the road. Women riders especially will read chapter 7 and feverishly nod their heads in agreement over the many sexist exchanges one will have on the road -- some covert, some less so. I'm knocking a star off because the book was too easy to put down, and I often did. The book is not gripping, but a humble love letter from a woman to her machine.
perfect description of the feeling of being "one with the bike." great writing style and good anecdotes. the author definitely has a handle on motorcycle history and manufacturers and was able to intertwine that with personal experiences.
Due in part to my AOOCD (Adult Onset OCD (which, parenthetical within a parenthetical, is not a real disorder)), when I get hooked on something I voraciously consume all there is to consume about it until I have exhausted that particular interest and move on (I think that's exactly how viruses work, actually). Lately, that topic has been motorcycles. I now own not one, but two motorcycles (anyone interested in a 1996 Yamaha Virago XV250 in near mint condition?). And, since it's winter, and I can't ride them, I'm doing the next best thing, and gobbling up motorcycle related reading.
Quality motorcycle writing is not too common. As I've heard stated elsewhere, those who ride don't often like to write, and those who write don't often like to ride. I can't quite speak to the veracity of that statement, but based on what's available out there to read about motorcycles it seems to be pretty accurate. Melissa Holbrook Pierson's book notwithstanding. Pierson, like me, found herself suddenly infatuated with bikes, and tentatively dived in head first. How do you tentatively dive in head first? With floaties on - or, by being cautious, and a little terrified, and taking all the necessary courses and precautions, and doing your research, and falling in love with the activity in spite of (or because of) its inherent danger. It's like a long courting process, and much of the excitement comes from the reserve and patience that allow anticipation to build.
Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, Pierson writes intelligently about riding, intermixing history nicely with her own personal head first dive. She writes a lot about what it is like to be a woman rider, and how the men she dated lead to her interest in bikes, which other reviewers found "too personal" but which I enjoyed nonetheless (all the history would've been dry otherwise). The subtitle of the book is: "What it is about bikes", and that is exactly what Pierson delves into with soul and insight. As those who have also fallen for a motorcycle know, there IS something about bikes. Pierson's ability to touch on answers both concrete and abstract, historical and personal, only adds to the obsession. Long live the infatuation!...
My boyfriend gave me this book to read, saying it was what made him love motorcycles. Reading it made me want to ride too. It was surprisingly well written too--almost poetic in places.
Pros: - has lots of mini insights - written by a woman - makes you wanna go ride a motorbike - well-researched
Cons: - very badly organized - jumps from one topic to another without warning. I had to stop at many places because I didn't see how the paragraphs connect.
A good read. Interesting Motorcycle history and jargon. It was a bit disjointed at times but overall a good winter motorcycle fix as I wait out the cold temps to get back on my ride...
I very nearly put this book down a few pages into reading the Foreword, which describes what it's like to ride a motorcycle, but reads like a poorly executed creative writing class exercise. Thankfully I persevered with the book, and Pierson left the classroom to pen what is an interesting, thoughtful and at times moving book about motorcycling, from an avid practitioner of the art.
Intertwined with diversions into motorcycle racing, manufacturing, record rides and other interesting facts, Pierson tells the story of her motorcycling life, which will ring true with fellow motorcyclists even as it teaches them things they don't know.
Like many people who come to motorcycling from a family that doesn't partake in the past-time, Pierson was introduced to 'bikes through a significant relationship; in Pierson's case a boyfriend. Her riding history in this book is also a history of her relationships until - after marrying a non-rider - she can truly realise that she loves the activity of motorcycling itself, rather than her involvement with other motorcyclists.
After acknowledging that it is impossible to impart in words the visceral experience of riding to someone who has never done it, Pierson does try to describe what it is about riding that hooks the hard-core few (4-7% of American motorists) into choosing it over many other things. And there is so much to describe: the feeling of travelling through country rather than over it, of being one with the machine, of the feeling of achievement in overcoming obstacles of weather, roads, and sometimes the fickle machine itself.
Pierson is a rider who likes to travel on her 'bike, not just go for a short Sunday ride, and much of this book is taken up with stories of long trips both in the USA and Europe. And these trips keep living and are re-lived by the rider: in dreams, stories around the campfire, or in friendly bench-racing sessions at the local hostelry.
While things may have changed in the 20 years since this book was written - although I doubt it - Pierson points out the sexism inherent in motorcycling, where being female relegates you to being either a pillion, decoration, or ignored totally.
Finally this book is paen to that greatest of motorcycles - Moto Guzzi, the most legendary Italian maker of them all. Anyone who knows anything about motorcycles wants one, and those lucky few who own them are surely right to think themselves biker aristocracy. Pierson well describes the intense joy and pain that these Italian thoroughbreds can give an owner.
As a fellow rider (and it is a fellowship, as Pierson notes), I really enjoyed reading this book. As a biker, I'm probably not the person to say that a non-biker would "get it" after reading this, but I know that after I finish this review I'll be packing my panniers and heading out on the road.
A really enjoyable book, just make sure you skip the Foreword.
Pierson writes eloquently and intelligently, from a perspective on the subject of motorbikes and the motorbiking community rarely encountered, the female point of view. She only dwells solely on the subject of female riders coexisting alongside male riders for one chapter (7) but her unique perspective permeates the book. What I found most interesting to read was how she translates to the page how motorcycling makes her feel. It’s something immediately recognisable to anyone who has owned and loved a bike, usually a wordless understanding between bikers, yet she has managed to put into words those shared feelings. Other than her personal accounts, there’s nothing new that Pierson revealed to me about biking. Yet reading this book she managed to evoke from me my own feelings and memories, and allowed me to intimately connect with her own experiences, the ups and the downs. I would recommend this book to all audiences, though I think those who would get the most from it would be existing bikers, those curious about the world of biking and perhaps most importantly, the under-reported community of female bikers. Happy reading and happy riding.
What 'On Any Sunday' is to films about motorcycles, 'The Perfect Vehicle: What It Is About Motorcycles' is to books about motorcycles. The very best of the genre. If after reading her book you don't have the urge to jump on a bike you don't have a pulse. Interesting factoid in her book- the brand of automobile that's involved in more traffic accidents with motorcycles than any other is Volvo. Melissa wrote her book in 1991, over 30 years ago, so I'm not sure her statement still holds true. There seems to be a lot less Volvos now than in years past. Personally I think it says more about the driver than the automobile. And No she doesn't ride a Harley, she rides a vintage Moto Guzzi. How classy is that?
Melissa Holbrook Pierson, and the gifter of this book Dennis Murphy, gave me just what I needed in the cold of Wisconsin and Chicago. Thank you for the perfect words for how and why I love to ride. Thank you for the help this book gave me to let go of my beloved BMW sport touring and start to grow more deeply into the Honda cruiser. Thank you for making the midwestern winter for this rider more than just a wait until spring.
I read this book for my book club; otherwise, this book would never have crossed my path. It certainly an interesting place to start from for a memoir. I understand the appeal of motorcycles and have ridden as passenger on them. I have also piloted a mini bike as a teenager at the lakes. Reading this book was more enjoyable than expected - but I still really do not want to get on one again
This book made me remember why I got a motorcycle in the first place and made me fall in love all over again with every woman in my life. This book was written a woman seeking self and growing into herself despite fear and anxiety. Melissa just happened to stumble into beautiful machines at the same time.
Nothing else like it. Moves curiously between author positions: subjective/personal, objective/historical, travelogue objective/personal... For myself, I find them all good but the final result doesn't feel whole. Maybe that's intentional.
Like many other readers I found the writing to be disjointed at times. I think it was intentional by the author so really, who are we to judge? Overall, I enjoyed the book and much of it resonated with me. The love of motorcycles and motorcycling is very evident here.
Great read for anyone, but was especially timely for another young woman discovering motorcycles (and the world of men accompanying it). The commentary is insightful and honest, without feeling forced.
Decent book. A lot of informational stuff. Most of it had a college paper feel, which I suppose should be expected, but more so that I really anticipated.
Has some evocative descriptions yet some slow areas, even for a motorcyclist. However, the author reveals honesty in her self reflections and observations of others.
Poetic and lyrical, this tribute to the motorcycle was a beautiful and engaging read. As a relatively new bike owner, I appreciated the author discussing her journey from interested passenger to unabashed enthusiast over time, and casting the lens of her meditations equally on her own experiences and the cultures that she finds and participates in. There are places where she and I are psychologically different -- I don't find the peace in riding from things that are driving me the rest of the time, but perhaps that's something that manifests as a more experienced rider. But I do share her joy in movement and freedom and minimalist packing, and there were passages that made me smile with fond reminiscence. A far more experienced female motorcyclist friend sent me this book -- I'll have to thank her for it, and I've passed it on to another motorcyclist in my turn. It's that kind of book. Worth sharing.
Facets of a woman's life as reflected in her connection to a motorcycle and the act of riding one. Melissa Holbrook Pierson is not a biker; she's a young woman who becomes intoxicated by the idea of her motorcycle, even as the reality of its obscure leaks and breakdowns frustrate her.
The book contains lots of obscure ephemera about the history of motorcycles and their (often female) riders. But it is Ms. Peirson's brief descriptions of boyfriends, lovers and fellow riders that are the most memorable. These are touching, personally revealing, and very similar to her views about motorcycles; they are flawed objects of love and idealization.
I don't often read a book wishing I had known the author, but I wish I knew Melissa.
I got my car and motorcycle licenses in 1978 - I've never owned a car. So, with my credentials as a die-hard motorcyclist established I'm bound to admit that most books on the subject should never have been printed. Few who can write bother with motorcycles, and few who ride can write in any engaging way. MHP has the gift of both skills. I even managed to ignore/forgive the occasional rambling forays off into the bushes of her love-life. :-) A stunning read with a touch of poetic craft in places. The best read on the subject to recommend to a non-motorcyclist as well.
This is a great book that put forth the idea that the motorcycle is the ideal vehicle for human transport, and indeed when I read it I completely agreed. However I have some problems with that now and that is why I challenge the bicycle community to put forth a book that argues that the bicycle is "The Perfect Vehicle". I still feel that if people here in the U.S. would use motorcycles much more that we would be much better than where we are now, over SUVers.
I had read Pierson's more recent motorcycling book, The Man Who Would Stop at Nothing, first before reading this. While I enjoyed reading her newer book, I didn't really think it was quality. I also misjudged Pierson: she makes herself sound mechanically illiterate in "The Man Who..." but she reveals a deep knowledge of and appreciation for motorcycle mechanics in this older book, published more than a decade ago. I have to say I enjoyed this book much more than her newer work.