On Love: A Novel

I can't remember reading a book that began with such promise, such razor-sharp insights about the experience of love, and with such promise only to see that promise plummet like a polished rock into an abyss of thought-tormented intellectualism. Alain de Botton clearly has an encyclopedic knowledge of art, culture, philosophy, and literature and beginning on page 46 he lets the reader know it. Page after page their is a relentless assault of references to Marxism, "Aristophelian certainty", John Stuart Mill, Marsilio Ficino, Leon Battista Alberti, Plato, the Muller Lyer illusion, Kant, etc; etc; ad nauseum.

In truth, however, the deal-breaker for me was Alain de Botton's assertion that certain beliefs he held--many extraordinarily odd--were givens. He asserts, for instance, that shoes are "supreme symbols of aescetics". He does not invest a paragraph in explaining why this is an immutable truth but amplifies that sentiment by suggesting they suggest more than pullovers--a generalization that doesn't pass the laugh test. I know a very lovely woman who when she is not working will wear running shoes or sandals with pullover t-shirts or sweatshirts that might say "Heavily Meditated" or
"Harvard Law School" and in very small print "Just kidding". Is he suggesting a generic pair of Reeboks or Sketchers flats universally tell us more about a person than a hoodie that shouts "Support Intelligence--Sleep with an Atheist."

On balance, I can steel myself for the torrent of namedropping--Baudelaire, quotes from "Beyond Good and Evil", a condescending reminder that Pascal was the author of "Pensees" , and his belief that La Rouchfoucauld, nailed it when he opined that "Some people would have never fallen in love had they never heard of love." Ultimately, what was off putting to me was not being bludgeoned by bon mots such as a friend being described as "the illegitimate love child of Miles Van der Rohe and Geoffrey Bawa", but a festering contempt of the narrator who, in very early in this opus comes off like an utter prick--an opinion reinforced two thirds through when he admits that he harbored "monstrous disloyalty" to other human beings, ridiculed the accents of others, mocked the hypocrisy of society, while taking a vicious pleasure in his own, and whose cynicism about love is such that it seems to give off the stench of something rotting. "I love you," he concludes, can only be taken to mean "for now."

On a personal note, I have known hundreds of people in various degrees of relationships. None, not a single one was in the slightest way similar to
that of Cloe and her nameless lover. Yes, there were the inevitable dissolution of some, for others decades of co-existing in an attempt to merely minimize the pain of loneliness, but try as I might, I cannot say "I know (or knew) a man and woman just like that", which to me is the failure of this novel.

I first read this book just over 10 years ago, right after a Korean translation came out. Back then, it seemed, well, an impossibly smart book for a 23-year old boy to pen. Wow, look at all these super-witty references to philosophy, literature, architecture, religion, painting, music, pop culture, and what-not, woven into an irresistably gentle, meditative, prose! And how very smart of him to think of the 'essay' as the proper form for exploring the idiosyncrasies involved in the univeral phenomenon of love? This is pretty much what I thought upon the first reading of de Botton's first novel.

I had an occasion to re-read it recently, and I was appalled by the shoddiness lurking, on almost every page, behind the witty-looking sentences. All the excursions to art and culture are just so very superficial, at times verging on abuse/misuse, and they are superficial because, I think, there was not much genuine passion to understand them in the first place. I have read a few more titles by de Botton since this book, and I suspect that he doesn't really care about understanding things and people deeply. Struggling with varying ways to get to them. His chapter on Nietzsche in Consolations of Philosophy may be a case in point. His reading (if you can call it that) of Nietzsche is so shallow you feel pained and cannot finish it.

Alain de Botton takes you on a wonderful imaginative journey of love with a massive array of philosophical references to cope with the natural wear and tear of relationships. Starting off simply from a cute meet and great, to the discomfort of seeing his girlfriend wearing overly-expensive high heals that contrast the market deli butcher' horrible socks-and-sandals combination, and the innate paradox of how much care he has for his love, Botton attempts to tackle the massive combination, what is love?

But what sets this book apart from most is that Botton does answer his massive questions about love and relationships, though temporarily, because as any knows, every battle in a relationships is temporary until it isn't and then, armed with knowledge of the war a person must decide if it's worth the battle scars...and most of us decide it is.

An incredible book that should be a companion piece to any new relationship.

This is by far one of the best and most important books out there when it comes to love. Especially 'mature love' and 'immature love'. This book is essential for the artist or creative, who has repeated experience with the chaos. Alain is brilliant, his writing is connected, true, and real. Enjoy!

Spoiler alerts. The author spends 3/4 of the book speaking in hindsight of a curious love affair, mostly in terms of obvious red flags, but riddled with largely irrelevant references to politics, philosophy, and poetry (cocky). After treating her like crap and her eventually leaving her for another man, starting with the premise that his office work was superior, he descends into grief, hate, suicidal ideation, and finally starting fresh by spending time with her friend, falling in love “with her hair and her eyes”. The speaker never questions himself for a moment if he actually loved her for her. Just shocked and full of narcissistic rage that she stopped loving him. This might be the worst book I ever read.

I've become a fan of Alain de Botton's work because of this book. He has a very nice style that makes the story go down like a tall glass of sweet lemonade. Relatable content, good for self-reflection and a fun story to share with others.

Not one of my favorites of Alain de Botton. I highly recommend "Course of Love"

Very insightful book.

philosophy behind the concept of love and its practices written with insight in an easily understood manner

The reason I bought this book was the videos and pieces from The School of Life. I was a bit disappointed though. There is something about the voice of the narrator that is not natural, he tries to sound too smart or something and I was annoyed by it. There is something lacking in the story as well, character development perhaps, a further draft, more time. The sentences, though, are beautifully constructed and you can see some of de Botton's present voice in them. And some parts were indeed hilarious. The main reason I found this book just okay is because I could not see in it the usual depth I find in other pieces from the author. The sense of humor, however, was there. In any case, I will still buy his other books because I find this man very smart.