For Common Things: Irony, Trust and Commitment in America Today

I'm a bit puzzled here. I've read forty reviews of this thoughtful and penetrating thesis and I can't recall a single insightful comment, not even from the pundits at Kirkus and Booklist. I DO know this: Purdy went to HARVARD. He's from WEST VIRGINIA. He's YOUNG, God forbid. And, more importantly, he's ferociously intelligent and sincere.This book is not a biography, so why are so many of you concerned about it? I've a suspicion that many people feel so threatened by Jed's formidable bio that they become defensive immediately. Here's a hint: Read this book for what it says. If the only thing you can remember about it after finishing is that Jed went to Harvard, you need to learn to read past the jacket blurbs. Here's another hint: erudition, social concern, and curiosity are all good things.

Through Plato's pen, Socrates said that an "unexamined life is not worth living." Now through the earnest words of a recent Harvard graduate, a twenty-four-year-old examines our modern lives and offers us a prescription for what ails us. The ailment is irony, or more finely put, "ironic detachment." Its chief avatar is the television character Jerry Seinfeld, who moves in and out of relationships with all the enthusiasm of a jaded, I've-seen-it-all-and-could-care-less New Yorker, which, of course, he is. Written by Jedediah Purdy, For Common Things: Irony, Trust and Commitment in America Today targets an array of cultural arbiters who value cleverness over curiosity, style over substance, self-awareness over social immersion, and, above all, the private over the public. For his efforts, Purdy has reaped scornful reproaches from the very class of ironists he preemptively criticizes. As someone more than twice Purdy's age, I am both amazed and tinged with a bit of envy that a young creature of a West Virginia hollow could possess so much erudition, wisdom, and perspicacity. I dare say that most twenty-four-year-olds could not spell Montaigne let alone quote his magnificent expressions. But Purdy-drawing upon the writings of the 16th-century French essayist; the observations of Tocqueville (which serve as epigraphs in Purdy's book); the philosophies of Kant, Rousseau, and Hegel; the life and words of Wendell Berry; and the profound experiences of Adam Michnik, the brave Polish dissident who retained his integrity as his country succumbed to capitalist rot-urges us to reject ironic detachment in favor of a renewed commitment to the commonweal. Chief among his detractors is Roger D. Hodge, who offered a scathing indictment of Purdy's new book in the September issue of Harper's Magazine. Entitled "Thus Spoke Jedediah: The Distilled Wisdom of a Cornpone Prophet," Hodge, with impatient disdain, says that Purdy belongs to "a line of young Ivy-educated authors whose prose briefly quickened the hearts of the marketing executives who decide which titles will appear at the front of book catalogues, in Barnes & Noble display windows, and on the banner of the Amazon.com home page. And yet how utterly worthless are their books, stacked on remainder shelves in the basements of used-book stores soon after their publication, their notoriety worn thin, their authors' careers all but over." On the contrary, counters Walter Kirn in Time Magazine. "Purdy's book is a precocious diatribe against the sort of media-savvy detachment that passes for intelligence and maturity in the age of Letterman...It is not the accessible pop polemic some reviewers have made it out to be but an achingly ambitious manifesto from a very young man who happens to be, alarmingly often, eloquent beyond his years." Jedediah Purdy was raised on a farm and homeschooled by his parents, mostly his philosophy-trained mother. At the age of 14 he entered New Hampshire's prestigious Phillips Exeter Academy. From there he matriculated at Harvard, where he became "obsessed with ethics," quotes Time. Yet he returned to the family farm at every opportunity to directly experience "the mundane," which, as he reminds us in his book, comes from the Latin mundus-`the world.' He is now studying law and the environment at Yale. In his spare time, it would appear, he writes best-selling manifestoes. What are the "common things" he describes? Essentially they are three "ecologies"-moral, political, and environmental-which are inextricably linked and interdependent. Purdy sets these against our zealous, uncritical embrace of all things private, which, he says, connotes deprivation. He sharply rebukes management guru Tom Peters, who, in his most recent incarnation, champions "You.com," the self as marketed product. (Peters, like his weight, dramatically fluctuates. He used to praise "excellent" corporations for their respect for and involvement of employees. He embraced quality and systems, à la Deming and Juran. A couple of years ago, he recanted. He began to promote virtual companies like Sara Lee, which have a brand name, relatively few officers, a host of products made by others, and no loyalties. Today, Peters proclaims the individual über alles-you are but your résumé, which must constantly be marketed.) The magazines Wired and Fast Company promote greed and self-absorption, argues Purdy. Bill Clinton resorts to facile rhetoric in manipulating public opinion, yet delivers little. Worse, Purdy suggests, the President's hypocritical behavior exquisitely models ironic detachment, feeding the growing cynicism toward public institutions. Purdy, as you have gathered, is a self-proclaimed progressive, acutely concerned for the environment and anxious to improve society. Time writes that "his broader goal is to spur a resurgence in grass-roots public activism." But it's an activism steeped in reason, nurtured by the mundane, and profoundly compassionate. It is not "Promethean," he argues. Rather, it draws on our best public traditions and decides human nature in favor of Rousseau over Hobbes. We would surely profit from more young sages like Purdy and far fewer of what writer Calvin Trillin calls `Sabbath gasbags.' After all, there are very real problems out there that command our urgent attention.* After hearing Purdy on NPR's Morning Edition, I could not resist the image of Ron Howard as Opie. The voice is pure and fresh and innocent. But the words reveal perceptive sagacity. Given his book's nasty reception by the ironists he abhors, Purdy may be deterred from writing another. However, I suspect that he will energetically pursue his overarching goals. And his splendid portfolio should provide this polymath with ample opportunity to make a difference in the world.

Important book.

Purdy is a national treasure~! A great critical thinker~! Wonderful food-for-thought book. Buy it, read it, think~!Highly recommended~!

An enjoyable book. The writer, Purdy, this fabulous hayseed (coming from one), is about as credulous as it gets. It's pretty funny to read a book where Jerry Seinfeld is depicted as an emblem of all that is sickly and hyper-ironic in our society. Purdy's a good writer, mostly. It's unsurprising that Sorkin came along and mentioned this book in his treacly Newsroom series. His Pollyannaish treatment of race and gender and identity politics in general will make the post-Trayvon Martin reader grimace.

Need a dictionary to read though, this guy really packs a vocabulary

The ideas in this book are very interesting and give words to the subconscious and formerly unspoken idea of social apathy - in the form of Purdy's ironists. These observations, while not original, are quite well discussed. Purdy is an exemplary expository writer, discussing various very complicated ideas, and addressing in words the emotional undertone of American society. My only criticism is that it is very apparent that Purdy grew up in a small town, in a pastoral farm setting in West Virginia, and was home-schooled. Detachment from the "normal" American experience gives him an outsider's perspective; while I can appreciate his passion against strip-mining for coal in West-Virginia, I can't related. He misses the very relevant reality of American life. Furthermore, I find something ironic in an ivy-league lawyer writing about the American experience of social apathy when his idyllic rearing experience was far removed from the average American's more provincial or urban upbringing. Rather, Purdy comes across as somewhat of an ivy-league elitist that is pedantic in his opinions and naive in his view (but, I mean that in a good way). Understand, that to criticize this book is my highest form of flattery. I am not at all bashing Purdy. I wholly recommend reading this book and encourage more of this form of expression.

Well-written innovative, insightful ideas expressed by a deep thinker. A pleasure to read and interesting thoughts to explore.

Possibly one of the most important books that I have ever read. Despite being nearly 20 years old, Purdy's book resonates as though it was written last week. In a world that is entrenched in irony, Purdy offers a view of the world based on earnestness and bravery. Our cool and snide society is protected from embarrassment, from ever being accused of caring for something deemed foolish or stupid.And the only price we have to pay is any possibility of connecting meaningfully to anyone else or our own souls. Read it.

cheers

Heard about this book on The Newsroom so thought I would give it a try. I need to read and digest it in small chunks but it is an amazingly insightful and profound look at the world today