Daniel Klein (1) (1939–)

There is very little to fault in this enjoyable tale of a washed-up New York magazine writer/editor hired to run a philosophy magazine on the campus of a small New England university. The first part of the book has a bit of a wonderful "Lucky Jim" feel to it as he observes the various characters that make up both the magazine staff and the university community. But Klein has a little more going on here. There is a love story--though hardly a conventional one. There is the complex show more relationship between the protagonist and his distant daughter, who is now writing a sex-filled online novel. And there is an undercurrent of liberals vs. conservatives arguing over gay rights. Klein deftly weaves these threads together, leading to a quite funny climax at a campus near-riot he himself instigates, before adding a bittersweet but hopeful coda. This is a book that is truly fun to read, as the author creates a believable, if slightly exaggerated view of a world we know. I will definitely look up Klein's other works. show less

Daniel Klein's Travels with Epicurus: A Journey to a Greek Island in Search of a Fulfilled Life is a humorous, approachable, and perceptive reflection on how to age well. The book is part travelogue, part memoir, and part philosophical exploration, all centered on the theme of finding fulfillment and authenticity in one's later years.

Klein's personal struggle in his early seventies—deciding between a more straightforward denture plate that represented his acceptance of aging and costly, show more uncomfortable dental implants to preserve a youthful appearance—served as the inspiration for the book. Because of this, he decides to travel to the Greek island of Hydra, which he had visited as a young man, in pursuit of "authentic old age."

Klein challenges the Western preoccupation with staying "forever young" and the desire to prolong one's prime indefinitely. He contends that doing so deprives people of the unique, worthwhile, and introspective stage of life known as old age. With a suitcase full of philosophy books, Klein consults philosophers such as Sartre, Aristotle, Seneca, and Epicurus, who serves as the book's main character. He frames his thoughts on aging, happiness, and mortality with their concepts.

The idea that Epicureanism equates to excessive hedonism is debunked by Klein. He instead emphasizes Epicurus's core beliefs, which include appreciating life's basic, timeless joys, being free from pain—particularly that which results from needless striving—and enjoying the company of others (philia). The elderly residents of Hydra, whom the author observes and befriends, provide an inspiring contrast to the fast-paced modern world with their laid-back, unhurried lifestyle and acceptance of their advanced age.

The book's lighthearted tone, humor, and light touch make academic philosophy approachable and applicable to the common human experience of aging. Inspiring readers to value their own life stages, lessen anxiety, and acknowledge the special pleasures accessible to an adult mind, it is a delightful and upbeat manual on living well in old age. It is an interesting read, particularly for people who are thinking about entering their later years. show less

Six-word review: Wisdom is a fool in motley.

Extended review:

Do you think this is funny?

Two cows are standing in a field. One says to the other, "What do you think about this mad cow disease?"

"What do I care?" says the other. "I'm a helicopter."

There's humor in much of what I read, but it's usually of the cerebral variety, mild irony or absurdity, witty turns of phrase, that sort of thing; even Harry Dresden's wisecracks aren't usually laugh-out-loud funny. But this silly two-liner on page show more 120 just struck me as hilarious. If you're giggling too, then you and I have something in common.

If you think it's just dumb, well, never mind. People's senses of humor are pretty idiosyncratic, after all. There's a lot of supposed comedy that I just don't care for at all. But I loved this little book.

What that cow story has to do with existentialism may not be immediately apparent, but the authors will make it clear. It's their gift to be able to encapsulate the chief ideas of several branches of philosophy--metaphysics, logic, epistemology, ethics, and so on--and convey their essential qualities through jokes. Their approach is unabashedly entertaining, and I wish I'd had this light-hearted treatment on hand when I was a philosophy student; but it also rests on a very sound premise for which I've always had immense respect, namely, the efficacy of humor as a vehicle for truth: something cartoonists and satirists know very well.

Watch out, though: there are pop quizzes along the way and a three-point exam at the end. Resisting my native compulsions, I went on past it without completing the assignment. Instead I read the timeline of the history of philosophy, which set me off all over again.

I picked up this small orange-covered volume on a whim a few days ago, and it proved a nice break from far heavier stuff. My daytime sofa read is currently a very serious history of postwar Japan, and my bedtime novel is Adam Bede (1859), full of George Eliot's gently but deftly ironic observations on human nature, but nonetheless with a plot revolving around some deep and earnest characters who don't seem to see much humor in things. It was good for a change just to go ahead and laugh. By the time I got to the end and tried to read one of the stories aloud to my husband, I could hardly get the words out between gasps and tears. And it wasn't even that funny.

My father taught philosophy for 35 years. I know he would have loved this. He was fond of my all-time favorite quotation about philosophy (attributed to Feigl): "Philosophy is the disease for which it ought to be the cure." This book is a cure. show less

Stop me if you’ve heard this one before: an old man goes on vacation. There, he takes stock of his years, drinks in old philosophies, and ruminates on what growing old means and how one can live a fulfilled life. While it may the premise of many a chicken soup book, Daniel Klein is no hack. His Travels with Epicurus is a delightful volume of essays and thoughts on all he has read, experienced, and wished. I, for one, was glad to take the journey with him.

Klein decides to spend a month on show more the Greek island of Hydra to regain some perspective. After spending years working for a living as a writer and a philosopher and watching his aging friends continually try to stave off old age, he has come to point where he decides to truly enjoy his station in life. While others undergo medical procedures, start new exercise regimens, or take pills to reinvigorate themselves, Klein is just fine with being old and wise. His ambulations around Hydra offer a view of life in the slow lane, where Epicurean values and modern sensibilities meet.

While modern epicureanism is all about finding grandiose gourmet experiences, Epicurus actually advocated living a simple, happy, tranquil life. There should be peace. One should be free from fear and stress. One should be surrounded by friends. While this could be absurdly stretched to mean that you should do everything possible to feel pleasure, Epicurus was more about a peaceful happiness than an absolute hedonic state. Klein spends his days on Hydra muddling through not only Epicurus’s words, but also the many philosophers that he has brought him. He blends readings from Sartre, Kant, Russell, Heidegger, Eva Hoffman, and William James with popular figures such as Sinatra, Dylan Thomas, Shakespeare, Stephen Wright, and Federico Fellini. This blending of philosophies enhances what would have been just a simple text about Epicurus and his writing.

Two things about this book: (1) this is the book that Tuesdays with Morrie should have been, and (2) you will feel bad for reading it so fast. Klein is so effortless in his thoughts that I just zipped right through it, which is precisely the opposite intention of writing about Epicurus. You need to take time with this one. You should pause after each essay and reflect a bit (but not too much). I will definitely read it time and time again—which I belive is just about the best thing you can say about a book. show less