Tagged: Nonfiction

Extreme Ownership

Extreme Ownership: How U.S. Navy Seals Lead and Win by Jocko Willink and Leif Babin, 4/5

This book’s layout is flawless: each chapter starts with an engaging war story, extracts a leadership principle for further analysis, and concludes with a real-life application to business. My only complaint is that the authors often stop short in each example of exploring the actual results of their approach, sometimes failing to address the outcome altogether and other times glossing over it with vague descriptions of generic success. The question left, for me, is not whether the authors are effective hammers, but what scenarios realistically constitute appropriate nails.

Why I read it: It’s been on my radar for quite a while.

A Hunter-Gatherer’s Guide to the 21st Century

A Hunter-Gatherer’s Guide to the 21st Century: Evolution and the Challenges of Modern Life by Heather Heying and Bret Weinstein, 1/5

I found this book to be profoundly and unrelentingly irritating. The authors are clearly well-educated and well-spoken, yet they seem more concerned with sounding impressive and achieving “guru” status than presenting a rational argument. Each chapter is a hodgepodge of facts, references to the work of others, opinions, and anecdotes, concluding with a short bullet point list of generic lifestyle recommendations that, in most cases, feels completely unsupported by the previous content. This would be annoying enough, but the thing that really made me furious was how the authors use a self-satisfied, scholarly tone and liberal endnote references (which somehow never supported the claims that I was actually interested in verifying) to mask under-developed theories and bad writing. Obviously, I feel under-qualified to criticize the work of two experienced academics, but it doesn’t take a PhD in Biology to recognize their consistent failure to present convincing points in a logical manner that supports bigger ideas.

Why I read it: a birthday present from my dad.

Parenting with Love and Logic

Parenting with Love and Logic: Teaching Children Responsibility by Foster Cline, MD, and Jim Fay, 3/5

I really like the core of this parenting philosophy, which is that even very young children should be given opportunities to make decisions and experience the resulting [reasonable] positive and negative consequences without parental interference, thus becoming equipped through practice for wise and independent decision-making. I do feel the authors take it a bit too far, though, suggesting manipulative and contrived phrases to mold every encounter into a choice and weaponize consequences.

Why I read it: a friend recommended it.

The Purpose Driven Life

The Purpose Driven Life by Rick Warren, 1/5

Reading this, one could be forgiven for mistaking Christianity for a pyramid scheme and this book for its investment pitch.

Why I read it (or at least, the first 84 pages): it was included in a bunch of books passed along to me by a friend. I remembered it being really popular for a while, so thought I’d check it out.

Hand-Taming Wild Birds At the Feeder

Hand-Taming Wild Birds At the Feeder by Alfred G. Martin, with photographs and drawings by the Author, 5/5

I bought this book for the charming naivete of its cover and topic, but soon became fully invested in all the feathered characters featured inside. The author provides helpful, if purely anecdotal, advice about diet preferences and taming techniques for specific species, in addition to many touching stories about birds he has known.

Why I read it: a thrift store find.

Range

Range: Why Generalists Triumph in a Specialized World by David Epstein, 5/5

On good days, I appreciate the diverse array of skills and experiences that make me who I am. Not yet 40 years old, I can make a credible case for claiming the informal titles of musician, intellectual, artist, athlete, teacher, and photographer. Many days, though, I struggle with feeling like a failure for never having pursued a “proper” career (and the money that comes with one) and so far not finding that one big, important thing I am supposed to be doing with my life.

If I’d read this book earlier, I could have avoided some of those bad days. Epstein blows apart the notion that choosing a career path as early as possible and pursuing it single-mindedly in ever-increasing depth, is the only road to success. Instead, he makes a convincing argument for the value of developing a broad base of interests and experiences, while unashamedly searching for pursuits with high “match quality” to yourself (instead of making a virtue of never quitting). The time this takes need not be wasted, since the most innovative contributions tend to come from people making connections between superficially disparate experiences and ideas, not from those who have specialized the most in any given field.

Life has not been as linear and predictable as I expected; in this book I was comforted to see a reflection of that experience. I learned that, contrary to the claims of pop psychology, personalities and even core values can change over time. That it is ok not to jump on the academic bandwagon of learning more and more about less and less. That continuing to follow my curiosity will provide the best chance of encountering my life’s purpose. And that I shouldn’t undervalue (or under-utilize) the skills and experiences I accumulate along the way just because they weren’t all acquired on a traditional timeline.

Why I read it: I think it was mentioned in Steven Kotler’s The Art of Impossible.

Learned Optimism

Learned Optimism: How to Change Your Mind and Your Life by Martin E. P. Seligman, Ph.D., 5/5

Life-changing, thought-provoking, fascinating, insightful, convicting–it’s hard to write a review of this book that doesn’t sound super clichéd. Starting with a chillingly relatable description of “learned helplessness,” Seligman then explores the characteristics of pessimistic vs optimistic interpretations of events, makes a compelling (but not naive or condescending) case for optimism and provides a simple approach for changing pessimistic thinking patterns.

Usually, I would try to summarize an impactful point or two for future recollection, but it’s difficult, in this case, because there was so much helpful info that I feel like it would be more useful to simply re-read the book if my memory fades. Also, I don’t want my own summary of the concepts to taint their potential novelty for other readers.

Now, for the answer to the million-dollar question: yes, I am a moderate pessimist (but also, triumphantly, more of a realist than optimists are).

Why I read it: I was intrigued by Stephen Kotler’s mention of it in his book The Art of Impossible.

The Art of Impossible

The Art of Impossible: A Peak Performance Primer by Steven Kotler, 4/5

The author believes that the average person can achieve groundbreaking results by finding and fulfilling their life passion, a process that he attempts to reduce into a series of replicable steps through analysis of the “flow” state, the characteristics of high achievers (in whose company he firmly places himself, with less-than-convincing self-deprecation), and grossly over-simplified neuroscience.

Ironically, this book both poses and fails its own test. Kotler attempts the impossible and succeeds in writing a book that is slightly unlikable, painfully over-systematized, and, crucially, ascribes prescriptive value to what I strongly suspect are merely descriptive (if well-researched and insightful) observations. This last failing is a pervasive one in the self-help genre and, if the author had promised less, it would be easier to focus instead on the book’s many positive aspects.

While I strongly doubt that one could make long-lasting and meaningful life changes merely from following the steps in this book, it does provide some helpful ideas to fine-tune and recognize good character qualities and habits that already exist and to understand a little of the brain chemistry behind concepts like motivation, creativity, and fear.

Why I read it: a recommendation from a gym friend.

Mind Gym

Mind Gym: An Athlete’s Guide to Inner Excellence by Gary Mack with David Casstevens, 1/5

Determined to develop a healthier mental approach to martial arts competition, I started this book with an optimistic attitude and pencil in hand, committed to completing every exercise and buying into the inevitable inspirational cliché or few. How unprepared I was for the relentless barrage of banalities I would encounter! Every exercise (and they were exceptionally few) was eye-rollingly familiar and the text was a hodgepodge of quotes and borrowed anecdotes that descended into the utter madness that can be found on page 198…

So what happens on page 198? Well, firstly, the author states that “His [Kurt Warner’s] bags-to-riches story is as inspiring as the song I play for athletes at the end of every training session. The song, by Mariah Carey, is titled Hero.” … Let’s take a moment to process that statement. A legitimate counselor of sports psychology habitually inflicts a Mariah Carey song on his clients for its raw motivational power? Really? Every training session? That song? Do they sit there with eyes closed for the full 4 minutes, absorbing all that sweet 1990s inspiration, or does it play on his phone as a sort of alarm to mark the end of a session, or is it background music for a hasty exit? The more you think about it, the less sense it makes. And the less sense it makes, the more it starts to throw into doubt literally everything else the author has to offer.

Just two sentences later, the unfortunate reader encounters this clunker of a paragraph: “Competitive sports can bring out the best in people. Instead of playing small, they overcome their self-doubts and fears. They let their light shine. They find courage, which is the opposite of discourage, and tap into their reservoir of potential. Reflect a moment.” The author means for us to reflect on moments of personal heroism, but instead, let’s focus on the much more interesting question of how the phrase “courage, which is the opposite of discourage” made it into print.

By the end of this book, I had lost so much faith in author Gary Mack that I became curious about his academic qualifications (conspicuously absent from the author bio). From his obituary, I learned that he did earn a Masters of Counseling Psychology, but what I find far more impressive is that he built a credible career in that field without have a single original thought! Perhaps it is a common failing, though. The next sports psychology book in my to-read pile (Champion’s Mind) was written by a PhD, yet peeking out from under the dust jacket flap is a note from a fellow, disillusioned library user: “Terrible–a bunch of slogans strung together by poor writing. Skip this.” Thank you, kind stranger. I shall.

Why I read it: lent to me by a gym friend.

Shakespeare’s Fingerprints

Shakespeare’s Fingerprints by Michael Brame & Galina Popova, 1/5

This is one of the most ludicrous books I have ever read and I could not stop talking about it to my poor husband, who also had to listen to a soundtrack of shocked snorts, giggles, gasps and groans as each page revealed some new absurdity.

The authors disagree with the scholarly consensus that William Shakespeare was a common actor from Stratford-upon-Avon, instead believing that his name was used as a pseudonym by Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford. The most convincing basis for this belief is a timeline of biographical events from de Vere’s life that seem to be referenced in Shakespeare’s plays and poems (assuming these works are semi-biographical, which the authors in no way prove).

Unfortunately, any reasonable and interesting points are obscured by inane literary analysis using criteria so broad that it soon loses all meaning. The authors start by claiming that Shakespeare’s use of certain common letters and combinations (e.g. o, vo, wo, vvo, eo, ver, fer, fair, etc.) should be interpreted as a purposeful play on the letters and sounds in de Vere’s name and title–a “fingerprint” clue to the author’s real identity. Not satisfied with co-opting such a large number of very common words to support their hypothesis, they then proceed to compare Shakespeare’s writing with other literary works of the time, identifying any similar metaphors, phrases, topics, rhyming word choices, poetic forms, even basic grammatical structure, as “proof” that de Vere was the real author. Ultimately, their tortured reasoning forces them to conclude that de Vere used no less than 37 pseudonyms (many representing real people who were alive at the time) and was single-handedly responsible for the development of 16th-century English literature.

Frustratingly, the authors focus on fluffing up ridiculous arguments with academic terminology in an effort to sound erudite, meanwhile studiously avoiding the performance of any real research that would prove or disprove their hypothesis. I really can’t emphasize enough how absolutely embarrassing and ridiculous the end result is. It’s difficult to write a review because the more detail I try to include, the more we fall down the rabbit hole of insanity. By keeping my analysis fairly short, I am not over-simplifying their arguments, but portraying them in a better light than they appear after closer examination. Still, I can’t resist giving two specific examples of what the amused reader will encounter. At one point the authors analyze the adjective “sweet” thus: “sweet ≡ sv veet ≡ seventeenth Vere” (99). Even the title Much Ado About Nothing is proof of Edward de Vere’s authorship in their eyes, since “Ad is most plausibly a play on Ed, the nickname of the genius lurking behind the Shakespeare pseudonym” (8). Insanity!

Oh, and if you are wondering, as I did, how not just one but TWO academics from the University of Washington could be behind this book, it might help clear things up to know that they were married at the time…

Why I read it: I bought it greatly discounted at a used bookstore many years ago.