Zen?

Recently I read "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance" by Robert Pirsig. It is one of those books that has been around for some time. People who were inclined to read it probably did so 25-30 years ago, but that doesn't matter because the story, although set at a particular time, is not limited in any way to the time in which it is set.

I found it fascinating, enlightening, aggravating, tedious. Yes, all of these things and more. To go after one point, I must take issue with the title. I would change it to "Perpetual Agonizing Over Abstruse Questions and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance". I could find very little Zen anywhere in the book.

Don't get me wrong, the abstruse nature of the questions is no criticism. It just isn't Zen. Neither is the perpetual agonizing. Again, make no mistake, agony is a timeless quality of the human experience and can always be examined in a new way. I just don't understand why he came up with Zen in the title.

The book is often bleak and depressing. Pirsig presents his earlier adult life in the third person, someone who has died. He calls this person Phædrus. Slowly he drops hints that Phædrus is his own life, a life of the aforementioned perpetual agonizing that accompanies him to a nervous breakdown. This led to his hospitalization where he was evidently treated with shock therapy. The book relates a stretch of time after he had regained some control over his life.

I have ridden and worked on motorcycles and I found his discussions in this area very useful. He does indeed get into things that shop manuals should tell you, but don't. We can't really expect shop manuals to get into your state of mind, but quality work is dependent on the mechanic's ability to see the whole machine and feel a part of a delightful process and interconnectedness. He spends quite some effort on "Quality" and perhaps goes overboard here and there, but I think it is a worthy effort.

His travels across vast stretches of American landscape reminds me somewhat of William Least Heat Moon's Blue Highways. The similarity quickly breaks down, however, in that Moon was traveling alone and Pirsig had his son with him. The presence of Chris, the son, is a significant if puzzling factor. Pirsig has what seems a troubled relationship with a boy he suggests is emotionally unwell. Add to this Pirsig's nightmares about death and I was feeling far removed from anything resembling Zen.