Penseive

I managed slightly better in this month. But not much.

Who moved my cheese? by Spencer Johnson

Bearing in mind the sub-title of this book was 'An Amazing Way to Deal
with Change in Your Work and Your Life' I should really have been
warned. I should have never been tempted in the Cancer Research Shop
(or was it Notting Hill Trust?). Even though it was only 50p. Even
though it was barely 0.5 cm thick. I should have been warned.

However in trying not to be cyncial - self-help books have brought joy
to my life (think Losada's Battersea Park Road to Englightenment or
Dan Millman's Way of the Peaceful Warrier), and also being endeared to
the picture of cheese on the front cover, I bought it. And suffered
for my foolishness.

Oh this book is dull, in an unintentionally worthy way. In reality, it
wasn't so bad and I'm thankful that it got me reading again after a
long pause... but... right at the end is an apparently verbatim
conversation afterwards in which four people all discuss how wonderful
the fable is. What bollocks. Painful, excrutiating, self-serving
bollocks. (That's 'testicles' to all you Americans)

It reminded me of 'The Te of Piglet' (and I loved the Tao of Pooh) in
which it just becomes an attack on Western Society in all levels and
the writer considers himself utterly wonderful and magnamious for
bestowing this criticism on his reader. (And, in both cases, yes, they
are men.)

No, I don't think I've read any books in September at all. Too busy
being miserable about my job. I was trying to Crime and Punishment on
the hour and a half morning commute, but somehow reading the Metro
seemed more fun. In fact everything, comparatively, seemed more fun.
Now, having been beated up in my shoulder bag for a month, it's on
it's last legs and perhaps I'll never find out if Raskolnikoff kills
the old lady? Except that I read it before.