Books of the Month

'The Pleasures and Sorrows of Work' by Alain de Botton

Alain de Botton has made a name for himself by turning his reflective, philosophical eye on the everyday stuff around us: our human anxieties, the reasons why we choose to travel, the buildings we live in... and now the work that we do. This book is proably best regarded as a series of essays - or, more accurately, photo essays - which try to contemplate the meaning of this activity we spend so much of our time engaged in, by examining various specific professions. So there are chapters on logistics and accountancy, oil painting and aviation. While some feel more coherent than others, each is a diverting foray into (for me, at least) an unknown world.

As you'd expect with de Botton, the writing is clear and sharply observed, if prone at times to some uncomfortable, if understated, mockery. His obvious disquiet at learning of the amount of sheer human energy expended on conceptualising and launching a new biscuit, for instance, is certainly humorous. Much of the effect though comes not so much from the author's investigations of each trade and his extrapolating truths about the human condition, as it does from observing de Botton himself flung into unlikely situations where he is often clearly regarded with suspicion or disapproval. Perhaps surprisingly, the worker he seems to feel the most genuine admiration for is the career counsellor, 'a professional dedicated to finding ways of ensuring that work will be synonymous with fulfilment'.

Where I struggle a little with the book (a problem I've had before with de Botton) is in knowing whether, after all the wry observations and the self-deprecating humour, I've really enriched my thinking about the subject very much. His ultimate conclusion, reached amid a vast compound of rotting jumbo jets in the Mojave desert, is that work is a necessary distraction from worrying about the pointlessness of life - that, as well as (usefully) helping us to feed ourselves and our families, it ultimately serves the purpose of keeping us out of metaphysical trouble. To people who work in, say, the caring professions, that might seem rather trite. Unfortunately there's not much consideration of the implications of this conclusion. Perhaps that could be a book in itself.

Susan Tranter

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