The Tipping Point (review: 2/5)

I’d seen this book pop so often recently I figured it was some sort of sign. I have to say, The Tipping Point was about as disappointing as Malcolm Gladwell‘s more recent book, Blink. Which doesn’t necessarily mean it was bad, just disappointing.
The topic is the “tipping point,” that mysterious fulcrum where obscure flips to famous, niche products turn to commodities, where just a nudge can cause dramatic changes.

What I was really interested in was the tipping point itself. I wanted Gladwell to really dig in to that moment, that place of change–what I actually read was mostly about popularity and influence in general. I think the book suffers from too few examples explored too deeply–e.g., 40 pages on strategies for children’s television production. Perhaps more disappointing is that, like Blink, this is something of a “feel-good” book, even though it still feels journalistic. I didn’t perceive much passion or much challenge. The book ended up feeling less like an well-constructed argument than a guided tour.

On the upside, I can appreciate that Gladwell is perceptive enough to come up with this idea, to identify some tipping influences, and show how this arises in everyday life. As in Blink, he does a great job of digging up those obscure little psychology and sociology studies and expanding on them, not to mention some great interviews. Like always, Gladwell’s writing is very accessible, and it only takes a couple hours to breeze through. Take it or leave it.

Heidi Klum’s Body of Knowledge (review: 3/5)

Yes, I will read just about anything. Heidi Klum offers a collection of wit and wisdom gathered from her years of modeling in Heidi Klum’s Body of Knowledge: 8 Rules of Model Behavior (to Help You Take Off on the Runway of Life). Of course, one of the best parts of this book are the excellent photos, in particular the 40-something page spread of her favorites.
Aside from that, you’ll find the canned guidance you’ll find in other business books (goal setting, confidence, risk-taking, etc.)–but spun with enough bubbly personality and moments from her life to make it worthwhile. It’s also cool to see her celebrity friends share their thoughts in the sidebars: Bono, Michael J. Fox, and Anthony Kiedis (Red Hot Chili Peppers), among others. Take it for what it is–a really thick, well-bound magazine with great photos–and you might like it. Also includes a recipe for authentic German cabbage soup.

The Time Traveler’s Wife (review: 3.5/5)

In recognition that I read much more than I can think cogently about, here are some quick thoughts on Audrey Niffenegger’s The Time Traveler’s Wife.
It’s a wonderful concept. Here’s the story of a guy, Henry, and a gal, Clare. Henry can time travel, but he can’t control it. He just disappears and flits from when to when. Clare met Henry when she was six and he was in his thirties. It’s a beautiful love story that spans a lifetime together.

I love the narration and the character sculpting. Everyone feels unique and weird enough. I give demerits for the dialogue, though. At times, it reads more like theatre than a book. The conversations are so snappy, references so witty and quick, maybe even a bit too arch. It wasn’t bad enough to set it down, but at times the characters interactions feel too ideal. But as far as couples go, Henry & Clare really aren’t that normal, so maybe that’s okay.

But Henry and Clare still lack for drama in their lives, and most of the action just doesn’t feel that special. Some marital issues come later, but feel too compressed to make an impact. After more than 500 pages, the Moment never came. High drama it is not. This is a pastorale on companionship, patience, loyalty. For what it lacks in adventure, I suppose it gives enough in mind-warping hypothesis. Read it.

Everything Bad is Good for You (review: 4/5)

I really enjoyed this one. Steven Johnson is one of the more articulate writers I’ve flipped through recently, outside of my readings in more academic circles. One thing I noticed in the first 30 or so pages is that this is a very organized book. There never seems to be a stray turn or backtrack or overextended digression. Over several hundred pages, it still reads like a tight essay–a rare balance of structure and flow, clarity and conversation.
The crux of Everything Bad is Good for You is this: contrary to received opinion, our pop culture is not diminishing our society, but augmenting and improving it in tangible ways. In contrast to mass entertainment of yesteryear, the media we see today–Johnson focuses on television and videogames, in particular–is more complex and more richly textured.

On television for example: compare the set-and-spike gags of ‘I Love Lucy’ to the dense allusions of ‘The Simpsons’. Compare a cookie-cutter season of ‘Dragnet’ to a season of ’24’. ‘The Price is Right’ to ‘Survivor’. Modern entertainment has progressed so that requires and rewards long-term, attentive participation on the audience’s part. Johnson makes a strong case that our entertainment is more demanding today than ever before, no longer just short-term stimulation, but often even more satisfying in repetition. It’s entertainment with effort.

For the most part, I think he makes a solid argument. I would have liked to see him consider more facets of pop culture in depth–do we see comparable advances in mass literature? music? I’m not so sure, one way or another, but I wouldn’t mind being convinced. Definitely recommended–I’d read it again if I didn’t have other books waiting in line.

The Works (review: 4/5)

Over the past couple weeks I’ve been flipping through Kate Ascher’s book The Works. Ascher’s expos?© draws on her experience with the Port Authority and with the NYC Economic Development Corporation. The result is a very cool macro- and micro-scopic view of the city that never sleeps. The book is decorated with all sorts of diagrams, labels, charts, cut-aways, and nice commentary. You can see everything from historic street lights, to analyses of pedestrian crosswalks, to the complex networks for planes, trains, and automobiles (and boats and subways and everything else).
The folks at 37 Signals mentioned an aspect of Edward Tufte’s new book, Beautiful Evidence that they appreciated: the “self-imposed constraint”. With that observation in mind, I noticed the same thing in Ascher’s work. Each page is like a self-contained essay on its unique topic. Instead of trailing off onto the next page, each spread is complete and self-contained on its own. You can pick it up anywhere and learn something. This book reminds me of those wonderful books like the Eyewitness Books series I used to devour when I was younger. If I had a coffee table, well, that would be a good place for it: out in the open, always offering another little moment of fascination.

The Botany of Desire (review: 3.5/5)

This Sunday I read Michael Pollan’s book, The Botany of Desire. The book is a natural history of man and four plants: the apple, the tulip, cannabis, and the potato. Now that I think of it, this might be the only life-science book I’ve ever for recreation, but there are certainly worse places to begin.
Michael Pollan is not only a writer, but a gardener. Throughout the four sections he draws on history, biography, genetics, economics, biotechnology, and culture at large in a delightfully consilient manner. The high botanical drama of man’s Apollonian quest for order versus his yielding to Dionysian revelry is interwoven with Pollan’s own personal experience.

While it is not a dedicated study of eco-issues, the work is nicely book-ended with thoughts on the man-environment interaction–the plants we domesticate, and the ways we are subtly domesticated in turn. I particularly like the discussion of “wildness” and “wilderness,” and some provoking thoughts on intoxication. I thought the apple section was the most interesting, but Pollan reaches his most filligreed and gushing moments in the chapter on the tulip. The potato section was a bit bland, but perhaps that is to be expected. Overall, the book is an interesting romp.