Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry Into Values

Phaedrus, our narrator, takes a present-tense cross-country motorcycle trip with his son during which the maintenance of the motorcycle becomes an illustration of how we can unify the cold, rational realm of technology with the warm, imaginative realm of artistry. As in Zen, the trick is to become one with the activity, to engage in it fully, to see and appreciate all details--be it hiking in the woods, penning an essay, or tightening the chain on a motorcycle.

In his autobiographical first novel, Pirsig wrestles both with the ghost of his past and with the most important philosophical questions of the 20th century--why has technology alienated us from our world? what are the limits of rational analysis? if we can't define the good, how can we live it? Unfortunately, while exploring the defects of our philosophical heritage from Socrates and the Sophists to Hume and Kant, Pirsig inexplicably stops at the middle of the 19th century. With the exception of Poincare, he ignores the more recent philosophers who have tackled his most urgent questions, thinkers such as Peirce, Nietzsche (to whom Phaedrus bears a passing resemblance), Heidegger, Whitehead, Dewey, Sartre, Wittgenstein, and Kuhn. In the end, the narrator's claims to originality turn out to be overstated, his reasoning questionable, and his understanding of the history of Western thought sketchy. His solution to a synthesis of the rational and creative by elevating Quality to a metaphysical level simply repeats the mistakes of the premodern philosophers. But in contrast to most other philosophers, Pirsig writes a compelling story. And he is a true innovator in his attempt to popularize a reconciliation of Eastern mindfulness and nonrationalism with Western subject/object dualism. The magic of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance turns out to lie not in the answers it gives, but in the questions it raises and the way it raises them. Like a cross between The Razor's Edge and Sophie's World, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance takes us into "the high country of the mind" and opens our eyes to vistas of possibility. --Brian Bruya

Product Description

One of the most important and influential books written in the past half-century, Robert M. Pirsig's Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance is a powerful, moving, and penetrating examination of how we live . . . and a breathtaking meditation on how to live better. Here is the book that transformed a generation: an unforgettable narration of a summer motorcycle trip across America's Northwest, undertaken by a father and his young son. A story of love and fear -- of growth, discovery, and acceptance -- that becomes a profound personal and philosophical odyssey into life's fundamental questions, this uniquely exhilarating modern classic is both touching and transcendent, resonant with the myriad confusions of existence . . . and the small, essential triumphs that propel us forward.

It is not merely that it's pretentious and outlandish--plenty of "philosophical" books fall into those categories--but it is also monumentally boring. It achieves a degree of boringness that remains unmatched by any other book I have read, and I think that if I can honestly boast about anything, I can boast about the number and variety of books I have read. I've read long books, short books, scholarly books, schlocky books, comic books, cookbooks, mystery novels, fantasy novels--you name it, this beats them all in the boredom category. After reading page after interminable page about a meaningless motorcycle drive across Montana and God knows how many other interminable states, interspersed with prurient glimpses into a decaying psyche that winds up imploding in a most anti-climactic way, one begins to count the pages to the end with every page turn.

As a teacher of philosophy I was dismayed to find that many people who claim to be interested in philosophy found this book to be an effective introduction to the topic. It is perhaps no accident that the people who tell me that this was the first "philosophy" book they read, and that it was foundational for them, turn out to be among the least philosophical people I know. Indeed, many of them appear to be ineducable in the subject, a property that I ascribe to having used this book as their introduction to the subject.

I appear to be in the minority in this view, however. I suppose that I must be some sort of philistine or something, but I can find nothing of value here, either philosophically, spiritually, or psychologically. And I still know nothing about maintaining a motorcycle.


philosophical time capsule   February 3, 2004
Eric J. Lyman (Roma, Lazio Italy)
131 out of 175 found this review helpful

I read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance for the first time a couple of years after it was published, when the eye-catching pink paperback cover was new to bookstores (I remember my parents talking about that bold color while we were on our own long trip of some kind). At that time, I was more or less the same age as the son of the book's narrator, Phaedrus, and of course I could not help but interpret the story from the younger man's perspective: this was an adventure story about a cross country trip, a boy learning about his father, an introduction to a life led by beliefs rather than instinct.

Now, as an adult, I see things through Phaedrus' eyes -- which is to say author Robert Persig's eyes, since in terms of concepts (if not geography) it is considered autobiographical -- and I can recognize many of Phaedrus' musings and thoughts as those of a man who is at once confident of and also seeking his place in the world.

The book is best known as a tribute or sequel to Henry David Thoreau's Walden, which Phaedrus refers to at several points. Others have pointed out, for example, that the protagonist's long (and not too interesting) discussion of what he carries in his knapsack recall Mr. Thoreau's own endless lists of the materials used to build his lakeside shack or the seeds he planted for his sustenance.

But there is much more to this book than that. The provocative blend of Eastern and Western thought, the way he generalizes regarding his philosophical predecessors (and gets some things wrong), the conclusions he draws and the way he sometimes fails to follow his own advice -- they blend to create a picture of an intelligent, complex, and flawed character. Not unlike many of the book's readers.

Maybe that is a key to the book's lasting impact -- at least to this point. Like Walden, the book has practically become an icon in the decades since it was published. A quick scan on Amazon reveals dozens of books using the title Zen and the Art of something ... of knitting ... of making a living ... of archery ... of falling in love ... of poker ... of day trading ... even of the actual maintenance of motorcycles.

But unlike Walden, I think the high water mark for Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance has come and gone. It was an interesting and compelling re-read for me -- as it would no doubt be for others -- but as I worked through it I started to realize that much of its appeal was as a philosophical time capsule, a glimpse at a time when the globalization of ideas was still new, when East and West were further apart than they are today. Take that away and most of what is left is an adventure story about a cross country trip, a boy learning about his father, an introduction to a life led by beliefs rather than instinct. And that's not so hard to find elsewhere.


The Joy of Engagement!   October 24, 2001
Donald Mitchell (Boston)
50 out of 58 found this review helpful

Before reviewing Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, let me mention that most people will either love or hate the book. Few will be indifferent.

Those who will love the book will include those who enjoy philosophy, especially those who are well read in that subject; people who ride and maintain their own motorcycles; readers who are interested in psychology, particularly in terms of the mass hypnosis of social concepts; individuals who are curious about the line we draw between sanity and insanity; and people who want to think about how to deal with troubling personal situations, especially as a parent. As someone who has all of these interests and perspectives, the book fit my needs very well.

Those who will dislike the book are people who like lots of action in their novels, dislike the subjects described above, and who want easy reading. This book is very thick with concepts, ideas, metaphors, and layering which reward careful reading and thought. Most text books are considerably easier to read and understand. Few modern novels are any more difficult to read from an intellectual and emotional perspective.

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance has several story lines that intertwine to create a synthesis of thought and experience:

- a father and young son take a motorcycle trip from the Midwest to California
- the father has an internal dialogue with himself about what he observes about the people around him and their engagement with life and technology
- the father attempts to reconstruct the ideas and perspective he had before being treated as a mental patient (which treatment destroyed and distorted his memory and personality)
- the father looks at the great philosophers of western and eastern civilization and attempts to integrate their thoughts into an aesthetic built around our ability to know quality when we see and experience it
- the father deals with the incipient signs of mental instability in his son and himself.

The book is almost impossible to characterize, but let me try anyway. Perhaps the closest book to this one is Hermann Hesse's Siddharta. At the same time, there is also a strong flavor of Zen and the Art of Archery. On the Road by Jack Kerouac covers some of the same intellectual and emotional territory. John Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men considers some of the same questions of personal perspective. In terms of challenging the constrictions of society, there is also an element of The Man in the Gray Flannel Suit here.

What is most remarkable about the book is the way that it pinpoints the spiritual vacuum in the pursuit of more and shinier personal items. Unlike many books from this time, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance upholds a concept of nobility and worth connected to pursuing material progress in ways that reflect eliminating low quality and replacing it with high quality. Think of this as being like the joy of craftsmanship, compared to the dullness of the assembly line. By setting high standards, expanding those standards, sharing those standards with others, and inspiring people to experience life more fully, we can move forward spiritually as well as intellectually. The motorcycle maintenance details connect these abstractions back to the practical issues of every day, as we roll along across country with the author and his son dealing with the realities of keeping our bike running where the repair and parts options are very limited.

The book's afterward is particularly interesting, in which Mr. Pirsig opines about why this book has had such great and lasting appeal and tells you what happened after the book ends.

Ultimately, I felt uplifted by the high respect that Mr. Pirsig has for his readers. He takes us very seriously, thinks we are intelligent, and pays us the compliment of believing that we can learn to fundamentally change all of our perspectives and experiences.

After you finish this book (if you decide to read it), I suggest that you think about where you disengaged from the challenges, tasks, and people around you. Then, pick out one area and get deeply involved. As you master that one, take on another. And so on. Soon, you will have new and greater respect for yourself . . . and more rewarding relationships.

Get your hands dirty!

Maybe, Maybe Not   December 30, 2002
29 out of 40 found this review helpful

This is the kind of book that a person who is intelligent but uneducated in philosophy would pick up, read, and be excited and terribly enlightened by. This apparently was the state of many of the "hippies" who read this book when it came out. But for someone who has read Aristotle and Plato and the myriad of others, especially the Greeks, this book can seem almost ridiculously off-center in its generalizations. Whether it is or not, that is for the reader to decide, I suppose.

The narrator is at first likeable, but as the book moves on and his madness becomes evident, you see his character become despicable, self-absorbed, mean, closed-minded, and, well, a hypocrite in a number of ways. This change may be a large part of the appeal of this book as a sort of psychological novel, though I am still not sure whether that is what Pirsig intended it to be.

Despite the disgust and boredom I sometimes felt while reading, the book has a lot of good things to say about living and the self. Most importantly, if you pay enough attention it will definitely get you thinking. Overall, a controversial book, but worth reading if only for the thought and controversy it will provoke within your own mind.