Love Pursuits of Happiness? Readers share 100 books like Pursuits of Happiness...

The French philosopher and historian, Pierre Hadot, was the first modern author to systematically describe the “spiritual exercises” found in ancient Greek and Roman philosophical texts. This book is the most popular scholarly analysis of the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius available. It provides essential information on the underlying structure of Marcus’ writing and how it fits into the broader system of Stoic philosophy. Although an academic work, most nonacademics find Hadot very readable. 

When I began writing about Emerson – not a usual task for a philosopher -- and was trying to figure out who the American Transcendentalists were, Barbara Packer’s brilliantly written study of the movement came to my assistance. She covers it all, from the background in European Biblical criticism and the idea that the sacred books of the world’s religious traditions are forms of poetry, to the Annus Mirabilus of 1836 when Emerson published Nature; to figures like Margaret Fuller, whose electrifying Conversations sparked a homegrown American feminism, Bronson Alcott (father of Louisa May), and, of course, Emerson’s young friend, Henry David Thoreau, author of Walden and Resistance to Civil Government.

In my college days, it seemed that everyone was carrying around a copy of Barzun’s book on Darwin, Marx, and Wagner, and I remember devouring his two-volume book on Berlioz and the Romantic Century, just for fun. When I began to seriously study William James, I was amazed to see that Barzun had written about him too. A Stroll with William James has one of my favorite titles, signifying a certain American informality and inherent movement that is characteristic of both James the man and his philosophy of pragmatism.

Barzun’s engagingly written book contains chapters on James’s life, his relation to his brother Henry James the novelist, and on William’s masterwork, The Principles of Psychology, with its great chapter on “the stream of thought.” Barzun also considers the brilliant “study in human nature” that James calls The Varieties of Religious Experience, with its chapters on conversion, mysticism, and… show more.

The figure of Ludwig Wittgenstein has always been quite enigmatic for me.

The enormous contradictions of his life and the intensity of it are difficult to understand in the abstract. Ray Monk's biography contextualizes the life and work of the Austrian philosopher who set out to solve all the problems of philosophy.

Monk's biography stands as a testament to Wittgenstein's enduring influence on our understanding of language, thought, and reality. 

A photograph gives me the form of the bird, but it remains up to me to see the bird as a bird. And that can be difficult. What do we see when we see a bird? 

The Peregrine, J. A. Baker’s masterpiece of descriptive prose, provides an answer, an answer that is as much about how we see as it is about what we see when we see birds. Sometimes we pull ourselves into the sight of others and the world emerges as more than its light. We see by being seen.

Baker achieves this kind of seeing both in his efforts to see a pair of peregrines and in his description of this achievement. 

T.J. Clark’s diary explorations of two Poussin paintings in The Sight of Death integrates an acuity of seeing with a searching intelligence that is simultaneously content, historical, personal, and linguistic.

He puzzles through a visceral sense of revelatory permanence in Poussin, a discovery of form in the details of painting: “Aren’t there plenty of moments in life that, whether they last or not, have enough of permanence about them to stand for things as they are, things as the mind conceives them –and not just to stand for them notionally, but have them be visible on their face?” He reveals this face.

An everyday poem is this kind of face.

Events that happen to us can damn us or liberate us. We will not always know which. 

Stories can help show these events and their consequences, even if they might not give them any real or acceptable meaning. But our descriptions of these events can help us see our life amidst the powers of the events. Heda Margolius Kovaly offers an admirable and brilliant example in her memoir Under a Cruel Star.

The memoir is a remarkable achievement of clarity, focus, and wisdom. Her life is more than that.

I could suggest any number of poems and poets of our everyday fate of being lost and found. But for me the modern poet who best integrates the eye seeing with the mind questioning is the great A.R. Ammons.

I have listed just Volume 1 of his collected poems, but I also recommend Volume 2. He writes out of a consciousness that poems are found and shaped out of a life of observation, effort, and passion.

How can one take the tradition of feminist film studies (instigated by Laura Mulvey’s ‘the male gaze’ essay) seriously and at the same time be hooked to the cinema of Alfred Hitchcock?

Tania Modleski had set herself the task in this 1988 study to combine these two positions that, for a long time, seemed mutually exclusive. Whereas Mulvey had mentioned that the flashback in Hitchcock’s Vertigo was an exception that had proven the rule (of a cinema of patriarchy), Modleski reversed this by making the exceptions as such the rule in Hitchcock’s work. She thus ended up not condemning Hitchcock’s presumed patriarchal attitude but uncovering his ambivalence.

In her readings, she convincingly explains that it is not just a matter of desiring female characters but also identifying with them among others because of their cleverness.

This is a ‘crazy endeavor’ from the earlier days of film studies. Inspired by Christian Metz’s ‘le grand syntagmatique’, so-called film semioticians tried to close-read films as meticulously as possible. This resulted in a number of fascinating shot-by-shot analyses, sometimes of a particular scene (Bellour’s well-known interpretation of 82 shots from The Birds) to full-length schemes (on Minnelli’s Gigi, e.g.).

Stephen Heath wrote a wonderfully detailed essay on Welles’s Touch of Evil, but this was even surpassed by Bellour’s North by Northwest, which, like the earlier mentioned essays, is included in this volume, a translation of articles originally published in French, most of them in 1979 and 1980. Though the laborious method has not been without its flaws (there is an inclination to over-interpretation), Bellour’s efforts nonetheless gave evidence of an unprecedented passionate cinephilia.