This is the first in a possible series of republications of papers that I was forced to write for school about subjects I wasn't interested in that somehow turned out okay. The following is a review of the smash hit "Tuesdays with Morrie" by sports journalist turned cult leader, Mitch Albom.
“I know you think this is just about dying, but it’s like I keep telling you. When you learn how to die, you learn how to live.” Morrie lends some formulaic insight on that one. This is characteristic of the novel. It is when a middle-aged Mitch Albom sees a friend from his past on television that he begins a journey of self-actuation, or at least self-encouragement.
Morrie was Albom’s good friend and professor from his days as a student at Brandeis University. In his declining years he contracted a degenerative disease that made his person notable enough to land an interview with Ted Koppel. Albom is at a rough spot in his famous and financially successful life when he spots the old friend. He awkwardly attempts to rekindle the friendship. Morrie hearkens back to the teacher-student, mentor-apprentice relationship.
On their first meeting Morrie opens up with some Socratic prompts such as: “Have you found someone to share your heart with?” and, “Are you trying to be as human as you can be?”
Deep. This meeting sets a precedent for the following dozen-or-so Tuesday get-togethers. We cannot tell if Albom is actually interested in growing, if he is trying to gather some good material for a novel, or if he is trying to impress his old friend. He wrote, “I squirmed trying to show I had been grappling deeply with such questions.” Their relationship was only partially believable. I believed that these meetings may actually have occurred, but the connection Albom tries to portray seems fundamentally flawed in the pretenses of their reunion. In a novel that is based on factual events I would certainly expect believability, somewhat lacking in this work. I understand the fact that you’ve got to write a book to sell it, but the all-but lack of treatment of any relationship outside of the wisdom imparter-imparted left me parched.
About three Tuesdays in Morrie asks what Albom wants to learn. He lists off nine subjects just profound enough to not have a simple answer on Ask.com. There may even be some controversy to these matters, but just barely. Death, fear, aging, greed, marriage, family, society, forgiveness, a meaningful life; you’re breaking new ground here, Aristotle. These subjects are all covered in the text and constitute generally each topic of the remaining study sessions. If Morrie has immutable wisdom to impart, so does Albom, because he asked all the right questions, covered all the bases, and left nothing left to be discovered.
As an inspirational book I would hope to find more that is inspirational and less that is glibly formulaic. Frankly I’ve read email forwards from people I’ve never heard of that draw more emotion out of me. I am reminded constantly of a character in another work in another media, pulling my attention away from the novel. In the Universal Pictures comedy, Mystery Men, a strange man named “The Sphinx” takes on the task of training a ragtag team of wannabe superheroes. He teaches not only skill, but also philosophy with such quips as, “To learn my teachings, I must first teach you how to learn,” and “He who questions training only trains himself at asking questions.” At one point these adages evoke the wrong emotion from “Mr. Furious” a man whose power is his anger:
Mr. Furious: “Okay, am I the only one who finds these sayings just a little bit formulaic? ‘If you want to push something down, you have to pull it up. If you want to go left, you have to go right.’ It's—"
The Sphinx: “Your temper is very quick, my friend. But until you learn to master your rage—"
Mr. Furious: “…your rage will become your master? That's what you were going to say. Right?"
If found in a work of comedy, Morrie’s glib advice on marriage, “love each other or die” would have been worth a laugh, but as-is it only makes me wince.
Finally I would express the actuation this novel should have, but did not proffer. If a man learns some truth but does not change his life to live in accordance with that truth, then that man has learned no truth. Not for lack of effort, I have learned no truth by my reading. Albom seems to be a good enough man, serving for charities and the like, but at the outset, not knowing much of the author I expected him to join the peace corps, I expected him to quit his job or work less. By the end of it and after reading the inside of the back cover, “about the author,” I feel no stirring within myself to change the world or try something new. I’ll love my wife the same ways; I’ll probably still be a selfish miser. The problem is that there were no views illustrated that were controversial. There was nothing to provoke thought or emotion outside of the “warm fuzzies.” The answers offered here to life’s questions are banalities, platitudes both tried and true, another in the over-produced line of the “Chicken Soup for the Soul” series.
I must, in closing, make note of Albom’s skill in narration. He took this rather plain story with little moral value and did at least tell it in an interesting way. The story switched back and forth from Albom’s days at the university to the time of his last course of study with his old friend. This regular rhythm made the book easy to read. Morrie seemed almost super-human, but Albom did make himself a pretty believable and human character. This novel is not groundbreaking in any respect, but does portray and cross-section the basic human experience. If an alien to Earth’s culture and ethics were to read this book it would help with orientation, but I must say that for any of us acquainted with/living in the world, this book is hardly worth the asking price or the time spent reading.
