Books like The Gay Science — picked by fans

This is an amazing and brief explanation of what existentialism is and why it should matter to anyone looking for meaning in their life.

I love that Satre demystifies his philosophy, making it accessible and understandable to anyone. The book is actually the transcription of a lecture he gave, so it is wonderfully readable and full of examples and situations that I learned a lot from.

He also defends existentialism from some of its common critiques, which makes the book even more useful as an introduction. Many of my questions were answered here!

If aliens land and ask me what it’s like to be a human, I’ll give them Heidegger’s first book, Being and Time. Of course, that might prompt them to destroy all humans out of frustration at the difficulty of his writing, but if they persevere, they will find the best description of what it’s like to live out your time on this planet (One Hundred Years of Solitude comes in second).

How many bibliographical jokes have you ever heard, well, read? This book has jokes in its Table of Contents, its title, its sub-title—in the author attribution! And at the end, the Postscript to this Postscript takes the entire thing back—twice!—although, as Kierkegaard says, to write something and take it back is not the same as not writing it. He wants to affect the reader, not just pass along abstruse theories. Kierkegaard criticizes the basic mindset of philosophy that pretends to have a God’s-eye view of reality when really we’re forced to make decisions of crucial importance, in precarious circumstances, with limited information, never knowing if it was the right one, perpetually living out our lives suspended over 70,000 fathoms of water. 

It’s not enough to know that Godot is a modern classic blah-blah-blah. I found that learning why was a crash course in creativity.

This play taught me so many profound lessons/strategies: Inaction is action; you cannot be inactive unless you have an active motivation; silence is brimming with sound; you can write a great play, and your characters can be anything but great; you can make a great philosophical statement through the most mundane of scenes.

Greatness comes with the overall synthesis of all the elements of the theatrical art – dialogue, story, stage, costume, etc. “Godot” is the most incredible name/metaphor. Can be anything, can be nothing.

I directed this play twice, and am still learning from it. I bow down to you, Samuel Beckett.

This book is based on Hubert (Bert) Dreyfus’s famous undergraduate philosophy course at U. C. Berkeley, affectionately called “From Gods to God and Back.” Like me, Sean was Bert’s teaching assistant for the course. We all loved this course because it draws out of our Western literary traditions a form of spirituality that we believe is essential for good lives today.

The book begins by looking at the relationship between Athena and Odysseus in Homer’s Odyssey. It’s a friendly mentoring relationship without any suffocating philosophical-theological pretensions such as omnipotence or omniscience. Later, we join St. Augustine as he tries to undermine (though unsuccessfully) the theological pretensions. The book ends with Melville’s polytheism in Moby Dick.

The book inspires us to look for “attainable felicities”: simple divine experiences without pretensions. 

Since Aristotle, friendship has seemed a pure, unadulterated good. Our friends bring the best out of us. End of story. We all have known enough betrayal, mixed purposes, and painful incompatibilities to suspect the tradition, as does the philosopher Alexander Nehamas.

I particularly love the parts of the book where he takes, as an example of friendship, that between Thelma and Louise in the film of the same name. By virtue of their friendship, Thelma helps Louise gain self-confidence, and Louise helps Thelma get beyond her neurotic self-composure. Aristotle and Montaigne would be happy. However, the cost is murder, robbery, and ultimately suicide.

With this and other engaging examples, Nehamas shows that friendship is always morally risky. The good life involves struggle and is not safe.

I love this book because Albert Borgmann shows that focal practices are at the core of any good life today.

Consider the end-of-day, carefully prepared family meal: the parents and children together showing gratitude, reviewing the day, arguing over bits, and resolving those arguments. Such moments do not always work.

When they do, they give each participant a sharp identity. There’s no place the participants would rather be, no others they would prefer to be with, and nothing they would rather do. When it works really well, participants sense they will remember it forever. These moments are heaven on earth.

We can make huddles and resource trading meetings play the same role in business. Borgmann writes of the woes of technology first; the focal practice solution comes at the end. 

Michel Foucault spent the last years of his life in his plain-speaking public lectures, calling our attention to the ancient philosophers’ practices for mastering the self. I help leaders (and myself) with these practices of managing desires without trying to eliminate them.

In this book (1982-1983 lectures), Foucault focuses on the practice that guides my life: parrhesia, telling truth to power. From 400 BCE to 600 CE, parrhesia reigned in education. Foucault’s account of Plato’s subtle truth-telling to Dionysius, the tyrant of Syracuse, is spellbinding. As thanks, Dionysius sold Plato into slavery. Telling the truth always carries a high moral risk. Truths cut across common sense.

Today’s mantra of radical candor—sharing views—avoids hard truths, produces agreeableness, and undermines good lives. This book wakes us up.

I learned some practical lessons about the mailability of my mind and how certain cultural “truths” most modern people take for granted are just tinted versions of reality that distort not only my ideas but also my behavior towards other people and nature.

I particularly appreciate the author’s efforts to contrast the modern American worldview with that of Native Americans. The differences are stark and continue to profoundly influence my evolving sense of reality. 

I read this book in college and it helped change my life, showing me the glories of science in a historical perspective. 

Beautifully illustrated and written, the book inspired me to appreciate the history of marvelous discoveries—from tools, fire, agriculture, metal, numbers, mathematics, writing and printing to astronomy, biology, and electronics—that advanced humans, making us the preeminent species on earth.