Part family memoir, part Studs Terkel, How To Live considers some unusual sources--deathbed confessions, late-in-life journals--as well as offering a rich compilation of interviews with the over-70 set to deliver a highly optimistic look at our dying days.
Henry Alford is an American humorist and journalist who has contributed to Vanity Fair and The New York Times for over a decade. He has also written for The New Yorker. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_A...
Librarian Note: There is more than one author in the Goodreads database with this name.
I'll be quite frank and say that although I'm madly in love with Henry Alford and am a Henry Alford completist (that is, I make a point to read pretty much everything he writes), I wasn't expecting to like this one all that much. Generally, I don't care much for books about One Man's Search for Wisdom -- they tend toward the maudlin and self-satisfied.
But I loved this one without reservation, and although I'm refraining from a five-star rating solely because I try to save that rating for life-changing classics, I wouldn't foreclose giving it that rating in the future after I've had a chance to digest it a little more.
Alford skillfully mixes autobiography (an account of his elderly mother's divorce from his elderly stepfather) with celebrity interview (Phyllis Diller, Sylvia Miles, Edward Albee, Ram Dass) with common-man interview, without descending into the self-involvement that so often afflicts this genre. As you might imagine, the common-man interviews are by far the most affecting -- I dare you to read Alford's interview with Althea Washington without tearing up at least once. And the people reading this who know me in real life know that I'm a pretty hardened cynic, so when I say I cried enough while reading this book on the subway that I had to duck my head a bunch of times so as not to embarrass the other passengers -- well, take from that what you will.
And of course, as to be expected in any of Alford's books, it's often knowing and funny, as in this passage:
"It occurs to me that there are some kinds of wisdom that I can't get a purchase on, perhaps because I am too callow to do so -- as in the Jean Cocteau directive, 'Whatever the public criticizes in you, cultivate. It is you.' I once actually sat and wrote down all the criticisms that have come my way over the years, in an effort to understand what Cocteau was getting at. When I contemplated emphasizing all of them, I thought, This might be a fascinating exercise. Thirty seconds later I thought, Are you out of your fucking mind?"
Of course, Alford doesn't find wisdom -- at least not in the sense that he comes to any sort of definitive answers -- and he doesn't pretend to. As with the most worthwhile endeavors, it's the journey that counts, and embarking on this journey with Alford is a genuine pleasure.
A more accurate title for this book would be "Growing Old Gracefully", as it's obvious that the question Alford is really interested in is "How should we come to terms with our own mortality?" He decides the best way to find out is to ask a bunch of elderly people, then try to distil key life lessons from the resulting conversations. Framing this process as a “search for wisdom” doesn't help particularly, and occasionally causes him to get sidetracked into some fairly unproductive academic discussions. It’s not surprising that encouraging people to talk about their own lives works far better than asking them about “wisdom” in the abstract, an approach which, predictably, yields mostly just bland generalities.
As a general rule, his success is inversely proportional to the fame of the interviewee. Conversations with Harold Bloom* and Edward Albee lead to unhelpful pseudo-profundities like “wisdom is a perfection that can either absorb or destroy us”, and pointless exchanges about the dictionary definition of “wisdom”. A series of meetings with actress Sylvia Miles reveal little more than her apparently bottomless self-infatuation. The most interesting thing that is gleaned from self-styled guru Ram Dass’s pontification on “wisdom” and “spirituality” is his admission that he doesn’t plan to attend his own brother’s funeral. This, quite rightly, bothers Alford, though he later suggests that Dass is redeemed by the calm acceptance he displays in the aftermath of a disabling stroke. It’s unclear whether this reflects Alford’s innate generosity of spirit, or an unwillingness to admit to himself how worthless his pilgrimage to meet with Dass has been. Sandra Tsing Loh has already written more about her eccentric father than anyone might possibly want to know, so Alford’s decision to include further anecdotes about Mr Loh’s dumpster-diving and public urination is baffling.
* I should add that the most memorable response Alford elicits, in an otherwise fairly ho-hum interview with Bloom, is in answer to the simple question “What have you gained with age?” Bloom: “A healthier respect and affection for my wife than I used to have...” (smiles) “Next May will be our fiftieth anniversary”. Somehow that moment of sweetness makes one forgive Professor Bloom many of his more pompous utterances over the years.
Fortunately for Alford, and for the reader, his conversations with less well-known senior citizens are more rewarding. The best chapters of this book are those in which Alford describes meetings with ‘ordinary’ senior citizens: Charlotte Prozan, a San Francisco psychotherapist he met on a cruise organized by The Nation; Althea Washington, a 75-year old retired schoolteacher who lost her husband and her house in Hurricane Katrina; Setsuko Nishi, 86-year old professor emerita of sociology at Brooklyn College and CUNY; Doris Haddock (aka Granny D), who staged a 3000-mile walk across America in support of campaign finance reform back in 1999, when she was still a spry octogenarian.
Most affecting of all are the author’s conversations with his own mother and stepfather. In what comes as an obvious shock, shortly after he interviews each of them, his mother (aged 79 at the time) asks for a divorce. Alford’s account of the events that follow, and the reverberations throughout the family, is remarkable for his ability to navigate obviously treacherous emotional territory without ever becoming exploitative or judgemental. In all of his writing, one senses that Alford is fundamentally a true mensch, a really decent guy. It’s part of what makes his work so enjoyable, and it really serves him well here. His writing about his family is funny and moving (never exploitative: David Sedaris, please take note), and is one of the best parts of this book.
Interspersed among the conversations are the results of Alford’s auxiliary research – what various philosophers have to say about wisdom, what other cultures have to offer on the subject. There is also a (desultory) consideration of deathbed confessions and famous last words as possible sources of insight. These are, at best, intermittently amusing.
This book is a departure from Alford’s previous work, the two collections “Big Kiss” and “Municipal Bondage”, humorous essays reminiscent of, and often much funnier than, the work of David Rakoff and David Sedaris. Though his choice of subject here doesn’t afford him the chance to be as hilariously funny as he was in the earlier books, he is witty and engaging throughout. The interviews with Bloom, Dass, and Albee would have benefited from a little less deference: one gets the sense that Alford was holding his natural snark in check. “How to Live” doesn’t quite have the mischievous exuberance that made “Municipal Bondage” such a joy to read, but it does have compensating virtues of it own, particularly the interviews with ‘ordinary seniors’ and Alford’s extremely moving writing about his own family.
I had expected Henry Alford to be charming. Who knew he could be wise as well?
Reviews comparing the author to David Sedaris should have been a tip-off to me that this is a book about the elderly, but not for the elderly. I tried a few selections with my geriatric clients, but they found the style of narration and hipster references off-putting and confusing. ("When do we get to the part about Phyllis Diller?" "Is he gay now? Why do I need to know that?" "Why is talking about his mother? Is his mother famous?")
I wondered briefly if this is a book that will appeal to people Alford's age when they shuffle off to the retirement home, but I'm not sure the famous interviewees will have the same appeal twenty or thirty years from now. Will the future aged hipster know or care about Phyllis Diller or Edward Albee?
So much of what Alford labels wisdom seems to me to be temperament or good fortune, which makes it hard to apply to one's own life. If losing everything in Hurricane Katrina doesn't make you feel sorry for yourself, probably nothing will, but that isn't much comfort to someone who frames their life differently. How charming to find comfort and meaning in your interesting career, but of how little relevance to the grim man who has worked, grimly, at a job he hated for most of his life? The old people I work with are very different from the people Alford has chosen to interview.
I can't dislike a book because of its lack of utility in my work, however. I dislike this book because of the author's self-referential perspective. How is it that in a slim volume of interviews with elders like Harold Bloom, the Dalai Lama--and even Phyllis Diller--the reader still gets a chapter about the author's cat? Whatever the sub-title* of a book by Alford says, the book is just another one about Alford. Some people like that, I suppose, but I think it is asinine.
*Sub-titles are asinine, too...unless you are writing in the 18th Century. From now on, if your book has a colon on the cover, I'm automatically deducting 25 pages from my 100 page rule.
Henry Alford Finds Some Old Folks Do Know More Than You
By John Hood
Once upon a time, you couldn’t shake a cane on South Beach without hitting some old folk in the spotted noggin. Then came the younguns — or at least the youngly behaved — and all those old folks got run outta town on their walkers. Aside from the odd fashion tip I used to pick up from some of the more dapper gentlemen, I’d mostly forgotten about that colorful array of codgers and biddies. And if the Beach’s relentless attention to the young and the beautiful is any indication, so did you.
Too bad too, ‘cause had we heeded their presence while they were here, perhaps we might’ve learned something about ourselves — and about the world at large.
Such is the case made by Henry Alford’s illuminating How to Live: A Search for Wisdom From Old People (Twelve, $23.99), a book that looks into the hearts, minds and souls of some of those who’ve reached an age where insight and know-how pretty much come with the bus pass. Oh, that’s not to say all oldsters are wise, mind you, but it is evident that more than a few fogies have something to offer.
In How to Live, Alford gets with some of those sage-like seniors. There are those you know (Ram Dass, Phyllis Diller, Edward Albee), those you might know (cross-country walker Granny D, Sandra Tsing Loh’s dumpster-diving father) and those you don’t but won’t mind meeting (a nap-loving pastor, a Katrina survivor, Hank’s mom, who sparked the search in the first place), and in the end each leaves us much wiser for Alford’s effort.
The book also happens to be breezy but not vapid, conversational but not chatty, and informed but not pedantic; in other words, it reads like it was written by someone who spends most of his time writing for some of America’s best publications (when, that is, he’s not walking around Manhattan in his pajamas). And since the Thurber Prized contributor to Vanity Fair, The New York Times and The New Yorker has such a wily way with word-work, I decided to slip him 10 questions via e-mail and let him at it. Here’s his well-wrought reply:
At what age does knowledge generally start becoming wisdom?
I’m interested in people over 70 because that seems an especially ripe time for self-introspection and self-mastery. Grandma Moses started painting in her 70s; many critics agree that Philip Roth, Joan Didion, Edward Albee, sculptor Louise Bourgeois and composer Eliot Carter are all currently doing some of the best work of their careers.
At what stage does wisdom become hooey?
When people start smiling indulgently at you and looking down at the floor as if in search of a dog to pet.
At which turn do things generally become for the worse?
When, like a late-in-life Bette Davis, you knock over the microphone stand at the Oscars.
How many boring stories did you have to sit through before you heard your first gem?
I was lucky. One of my first interviews was Granny D, who talked eloquently about walking across the country at age 89 — complete with emphysema, severe arthritis, hearing aids and dentures — in support of campaign finance reform. I’m a former casting director for feature films, so I’m pretty scrupulous about recruitment.
Did you find elders of one race or country more prone to wisdom than others?
The most dramatic piece of wisdom I encountered was that of a fisherman from Indonesia. He’s a member of the Moken tribe — they learn to swim before they walk, and to hold their breath underwater twice as long as most humans. Noticing harbingers of doom on the morning of the tsunami in 2003 — the way the tide went out, the way the cicadas buzzed — he told his fellow tribesmen to climb a local mountain, and thus saved thousands of lives.
Generally, the more agrarian and rural a culture, the more elder wisdom is valued. … The big geographical divide in wisdom is West vs. East. Here in the Western world, wisdom is more quantifiable — it’s logic-based and linear. Whereas the Eastern conception is more akin to our notion of intuition — it’s more about the process rather than the result.
Is belief helpful or harmful when it comes to attaining wisdom in old age?
It’s definitely a boon, unless it takes the form of dogmatism or intolerance, as you sometimes find with religious fundamentalism. But on the whole, wisdom, existing outside the church as it does, is more universal than religion.
If you could choose a way to segue into whatever (if anything) comes next, which would it be?
To rapturous applause.
Who’s your favorite old folk — living or dead?
The Dalai Lama is both deep and hilarious; I would definitely watch an HBO series starring him and Everybody Loves Raymond’s Doris Roberts. Of the people in my book, my favorites are my mother, whose O.C.D. approach to knitting and the fiber arts has led me to call her Yarnivore; a retired aerospace engineer named Eugene Loh, who pulls much of the food he eats each day out of dumpsters; and actress Sylvia Miles, who said, “People disappoint you. Lovers disappoint you. But theatrical memorabilia stays with you, as long as you keep it under clear plastic.”
What’s the difference between a coot and a sage?
It’s sort of the same as the difference between cute and beautiful. You forget cute by the time you reach the corner. But beautiful colonizes your subconscious.
Is old the new black?
Absolutely. Old is very slimming. And it will definitely take you from day into evening.
Dear Goodreads: When I typed "How to Live" into "find books by title or author," your search engine suggested: How I Live Now, How Starbucks Saved My Life, How the Dead Live, How the Other Half Lives, How Shall We Now Live, Does This Clutter Make My Butt Look Fat (!), Pornified (!!) and 56 other books before finally hitting on the correct title. Perhaps you could borrow a summer intern from Google to show you how the "search" function is supposed to work? Anyway, this book was both funny and informative, plus there's a whole chapter about Sandra Tsing Loh's nutty old dad, so an extra star for that! I'm adding this to my secret list of "books that would make good Christmas presents."
HOW TO LIVE: A SEARCH FOR WISDOM FROM OLD PEOPLE (WHILE THEY ARE STILL ON THIS EARTH) BY HENRY ALFORD: Henry Alford has written for Vanity Fair, The New York Times, and The New Yorker, and is the author of Municipal Bondage. In his latest book, How to Live: A Search for Wisdom From Old People While They Are Still on This Earth, he does just that, providing insight and viewpoints from those who will not remain for much longer on this earth to give those who still have a while to go a greater respect and appreciation for life and what one can accomplish with it.
In the first chapter, Alford lays the ground rules, explaining that while there are certainly intelligent young people, one is most likely to find experience and wisdom from those over seventy who have simply lived much longer. Beginning with his stepfather and mother, Alford moves on from interview to interview, surprised at the response he gets from perfect strangers. In addition to interviewing some famous people like Edward Albee, Harold Bloom, and Phyllis Diller, it is the people we know nothing about who tell the most moving stories; like the retired schoolteacher who survived Hurricane Katrina, but lost her home, all her possessions, and even her husband, but still lives each day to its fullest. While How to Live is not all fun and games with some sad and sobering life stories, Alford balances it out with some funny stories like his descriptive tour through Sylvia Miles’s stuffed and cluttered apartment.
Whether you start the book with expectations and preconceptions, or pick it up for curiosity’s sake, you will ultimately be surprised and delighted with what people who have spent at least seventy years on this planet have seen and what they have to say about it and life.
For more book reviews and exclusive author interviews, go to BookBanter.
If you are interested in actual wisdom and how to live (and in an excellent read), read this instead: How to Live: A Life of Montaigne in One Question and Twenty Attempts at an Answer by Sarah Bakewell.
Alford (or his publisher) picked the right title to to cash in on all our worries about 'living right.' Unfortunately, the author doesn't come across as all that wise--maybe that's why his subjects didn't come across as that much wiser than the rest of us, either.
RICK “SHAQ” GOLDSTEIN SAYS: “IS IT WISE TO READ THIS BOOK… OR IS IT WISE… NOT TO READ THIS BOOK?” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- The author decides to set out on a quest… to not only search for wisdom… but to try to get a true definition of what wisdom really is… from people who have truly had the opportunity to acquire life’s experiences… our elderly. The wide ranging paths that the author travels… leads to many things… including conundrums… such as… sometimes our greatest strengths… are usually our greatest liabilities. The reader also receives interesting bits of historical data… such as… “Benjamin Franklin helped frame the U.S. Constitution at eighty-one; Golda Meir assumed leadership of Israel at seventy, and Nelson Mandela assumed leadership of South Africa at seventy-six.” We also get a heavy dose of the author’s elderly Mother’s decision to move out and divorce his stepfather. In fact there are more pages in this book dedicated to his Mother’s decision… and the resultant affects on her and their family… than any other individual subject in the book. We learn that his Mom makes decisions like a LASER-BEAM… “She doesn’t cut to the chase; she starts at the chase.” But my decision to purchase this book was not based on the knowledge... nor... the assumption… that so much time would be spent on this one topic.
The author obviously spent a lot of time and energy in background research… and also… in the effort of attempting to arrange interviews with some hard to pin down elderly subjects. One such subject Eugene Loh… was nauseating to read about. Eugene is an “eighty-seven-year-old retired aerospace engineer who left Shanghai to come to the United States to graduate school; he has five science degrees, including ones from Cal Tech, Purdue, and Stanford.” As the author ruminates what it was like watching AND SHARING all the food that Eugene takes out of trash cans… including black bananas… and partially ate sandwiches… a potential reader would have to fight off a “gag” reflex… when he goes to a Starbucks trash can and pulls out a “coffee cup with two inches of milky coffee in it and a cigarette; Loh fished the cigarette out and then drank the coffee.”
At times the reading became a laborious task in order to get to some key points the author was trying to nail down. To me… the best parts of the book… were the always enlightening historical quotations and facts that were peppered throughout… such as: “Einstein never dreamed of Hiroshima when he approached Roosevelt and convinced him to build the atom bomb. When Einstein heard it was dropped on humans, he pulled out his hair and said, “I don’t know what the weapons of World War III will be. But I know the weapons of World War IV-sticks and stones.”… and that when William F. Buckley died… the papers he bequeathed to Yale weighed seven tons… and even as diverse a subject as actress Sylvia Miles… who was nominated for best supporting actress twice… once for 1969’s “MIDNIGHT COWBOY”… and once for 1975’s “FAREWELL, MY LOVELY”… despite the fact that her combined time on screen for both movies was nine minutes.
“The term wisdom has had roughly EIGHT-MILLION definitions over the course of history”… and you have to invest some time and effort to learn the ones presented here”.
But perhaps the best advice of all comes from Mark Twain who said: “WISDOM IS THE REWARD YOU GET FOR A LIFETIME OF LISTENING WHEN YOU WOULD RATHER HAVE TALKED.”
I can never get enough wisdom. From that weird story of King Solomon to more recent things, wisdom is practically my bread and butter for reading. That was why I picked this book up from the Library. I figured it couldn't be bad since it had such a fascinating concept. We can all be wrong I suppose.
The main problem with this book is its scope. While the author says he wants to obtain wisdom from old people, he doesn't really do it that efficiently. I suppose it is rather difficult to find people willing to talk about being old, but Henry Alford doesn't even really know what wisdom is. How do I know this? He mentions it himself. After talking to Harold Bloom he realizes that he doesn't have a good working concept of wisdom, only vague hints of what people have said; adages and proverbs that are so worn as to become practically worthless.
So Henry Alford talks to a number of celebrities, but many people don't want to. Some people have so little to say that they only get one line in his book. For instance, he might have talked to Edward Albee, but I couldn't find the interview. On the other hand, you have Bill Cosby, the guy that sent a form letter since he had other stuff to do. Since this book was published in 2008 or something, this is pre-scandal Bill Cosby but still. So along with celebrities, Alford talks with his mother and stepfather. It wasn't that bad, but it culminates in their breakup.
From that point on, I guess Alford attempts to make a comparison between his mother and stepfather and how they handle it, but he just has so many threads to tie together. All in all, it wasn't that great. I much prefer the Sarah Bakewell book of the same name written about Montaigne.
This book was not exactly what I expected. There are times when the book annoyed me, always followed by places where it would surprise me and redeem itself. The highlight was the defense of aphorisms. I have always found aphorisms to be useful, interesting, and sometimes hilarious. When I read the the snide comments of some dismissing the sharing of aphorisms as some kind of "virtue signaling, my first thought is "get over yourself". Alford speaks to the importance and utility of aphorisms or epigrams, collecting many for this book. For this reason I will return to this book from time to time to "borrow" (okay, steal). Another thing that kept drawing me back in was how many books cited by the author are sitting on my shelves as I write this, and of the works cited that were not already in my library, I have already bought at least one. As part of my own aging and elderhood pilgrimage, there has been much here that will prove useful.
Alford has created an engaging quest for wisdom that is both insightful and laugh out loud funny. He interviews many older people, and cites numerous other sources in an effort to capture wisdom in it's many forms. The writing style is very easy to like and it's light, conversational style lends itself really well to a weighty topic such as this. This is an easy recommendation for everyone. It is deep and meaningful while being accessible and humorous, a tough combination to pull off.
The shining moments in these book were when the author allowed his subjects to speak. Their stories and their words were worth reading. Most of the time, however, it felt as if I was reading the authors journey, his opinions and his struggle with relationships and mortality. It's all well and good to struggle with relationships and mortality, but I didn't pick up the book to read about him and I wasn't particularly interested by his level of self injection into the narrative.
Pretty good. The thing I enjoyed most was thinking about how much life has changed with changes in technology. This book was written 10 years ago - I wonder how it would be different if written today. Some parts on "the history of wisdom" were a little dry, like I was reading someone's thesis, but the life stories and intertwined memoir were enjoyable. I definitely learned something from this book and finally picked up a Joan Didion title because of it, so I'm glad I read it.
I ended just skipping to the end about half way through. There are some nuggets of wisdom peppered throughout but for the most part it’s about the author’s personal life during the time he was writing the book. I found it a little difficult to see the direction he was going half the time but perhaps it’s because I was looking for the plain wisdoms rather than reading this book the way one enjoys a hard drink.
I read this book to see what wisdom famous/older/experienced people had learned in their lives. There was some of that but mainly this book was written by Alford to relate the breakup of his mother and his stepfather marriage and the effect on each of them because it didn't seem to have that much of an effect on Alford. The story was well-told but not what I was looking for.
I really enjoyed reading this. The auther interviews many people--some famous, some not--and is basically asking what they've learned through their years on earth. He interviews his parents as well, and you get a bit of family drama there. It is witty, warm and full of good advice about how to navigate the years we're on this earth.
Returning book to library unfinished, but enjoyable. Chapters go between personal life and interviews with older people. Not very actionable wisdom but perhaps the book is more about the “search” part of it, of which I was not drawn to finish reading about.
This book is full of advice from our elders. Nothing but wisdom in each page. This might change your perspective on some things and help you understand what will probably be most important to you when you’re at the end stage of your life. We have a lot to learn about life from the people who have already lived a long one before us
How to Live by Henry Alford is subtitled “A Search for Wisdom from Old People (While They Are Still on This Earth).”
Though a noble, worthy pursuit, a quest for wisdom encapsulated in book form by one particular individual is a preposterous and inherently flawed hunt. A quest for wisdom is what an individual would consider life. A writer’s quest for wisdom for the sake of an idea or treatment or assignment or ultimately, to warrant an advance, is destined to fail as singularly biased, limited and deficient.
And so it is for Mr. Henry Alford, who is, from what I can discern from this book, a caring and totally decent, well-meaning person. But How to Live provides in no way an answer to “how to live.” As it shouldn’t. But following the inherent flaws mentioned above, Alford’s work ends with no more significance or poignancy than it begins.
How to Live is simply Alford’s menial and insignificant “quest” for “wisdom.” It is a deeply personal story that reads like a person’s diary: boring. How to Live suffers from unfocused rambling, over-sharing and emerges as a too personal, self-absorbed, indulgent memoir-cum-amateur quest for wisdom. There is too much of the author and the author’s mother; two people I was really sick of hearing way before page 262. And it reminded me WAY too much of The Thing About Life is That One Day You’ll be Dead, a far more engaging and redeeming book.
Alford’s two other books are titled “Big Kiss: One Actor’s Desperate Attempt to Claw His Way to the Top,” and “Municipal Bondage: One Man’s Anxiety-Producing Adventures in the Big City.” Following my consumption of How to Live, I have absolutely no desire to read these other two chronicles. You are writing about life, Mr. Alford, and if you fail to offer anything remotely significant about your foibles, we have no need to read your work. We are too busy living our own eccentric adventures. Except WE are not harassing others with mediocre details chronicling such mundane and normal goings-on.
How to Lives does provide a smattering of truly fascinating sections featuring such luminaries as Albee, Burroughs, Mailer, and Bloom, but such oases are quickly interrupted by the barren imagination of the author, the author’s dry mother, or, more often, both.
Kubrick said it best: “Real is good, interesting is better.”
My favorite aphorism gleamed from this book comes from a 90-year-old named Peg Franks, a volunteer at a senior center:
“Always read stuff that will make you look good if you die in the middle of it.”
I will not be so cruel as to suggest that you should not read this book, or to quickly finish it for fear of being found dead with it.
Author, Henry Alford, goes on a journey of sitting down and interviewing people up in age about what they have learned about wisdow and life and what they have to offer to younger people. This style of books has been done before so the expectations are not different from what you normally would get from a book like this.
Most of his interviewees are people who have established themselves, accomplished an amazing feat or simply survived a very tramatic event or live an unconventional lifestyle. Most people going into a book like this always think or replay the same phrase that has been taught and repeated many times, "Live your life to the fullest everyday and don't waste a day." The phrase over time can wear thin and many time people fall back into the run of their everyday living and going about their errands.
The book does take a turn as the author includes the events of his mother's life into it. The author does mention that he is looking to understand his mother and how he wishes to have a better relationship with her and understand her more about her life and what she has to offer. Most readers in the beginning can tell what this book also turns into, an author trying to find what wisdom and life really has to offer to those looking to make sense out of it and live it to its fullest, but takes a turn for including his mother into the story. From this you can tell what the overarching theme will be and what it will also include and how that biases the author's conclusion.
Rather then finding more dept to what each contributing subject has to offer and how to apply it to one's life, the author keeps pulling back his mother into the story to find some connection of what he just learned and how it apply's to his life and his mother's.
There is some great information and advice throughout this book and one has to be able to extract the author's personal convictions toward each idea to be able to take away and use the advice. The last person he interviews has one of the most interesting outlooks on life which he uses epigrams to explain life.
So it took me a while to read this book. My original curiosity was sparked by a review in the NY Times. it started off at a slow clip...how much does one care about the author's mother's divorce in the first few pages? But the pace picked up and there were some thought provoking one liners and I was really enjoying the book, in the middle. About 3/4 through the book- the pace completely changed and it was like the author lost focus. I read an entire chapter about his cat, Hot Rod. Now those of you who know me, know that I like furry creatures a heck of a lot- but WTF does a book about the search for wisdom from old people have to do with a cat that is slowly dying because the owners decided not to give it it's insulin or hydrate it? That chapter pissed me off... I finished the book because I was so close to the end- but it didn't really leave me with anything deep. It left me feeling kind of like a patsy for paying full price for the damn thing...In the end, I really do think this author could have had something great if he had just disciplined himself more. I guess the search for wisdom is an inherintly personal search but I would have preferred he took a bit more of himself out of the book and kept it a lot more about the "old people" he was interviewing. if anything their stories were infinitly more interesting.
How to Live: A Search for Wisdom from Old People (While They Are Still On This Earth) is a memoir of sorts of the author trying to find wisdom from old, famous people while his own mother makes decisions about her own life as she ages.
So although I should have seen from the title that this book is "a search," I thought it would be a book of chapters that went from person to person, discussing the wisdom they have found to be true in their lives. Unfortunately, this book is not that. I am quitting reading this book after 170 pages mostly because I find it to be boring and not at all what I thought it might be. I could continue reading to the end, but there are other books I am more interested in and I'm afraid that I just don't have the interest to see this book through. Although I do enjoy memoirs, I found the aspects of the author working through his mom deciding to move into a retirement home to be slightly interesting but, ultimately, boring. I found the chapters where the author has found an old person to interview extremely boring and really not at all about wisdom that they have gathered through their lives. I think this book could have been so much more.