Pirsig's Zen and the Art of Motorcylce Maintenance--A Manual for Life Maintenance

Pirisg, Robert M.. Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. New York: Bantam, 1981. (380 pages, 31 chapters)

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance was written by Robert M. Pirsig and originally published in 1974. Since then, it has enjoyed several republications due to its popularity. Its 380 pages are divided into four parts and 31 chapters. The book doubles as the story of a motorcycle journey across the United States in which the narrator searches for forgotten truths and an understanding of his son and as a modern work of philosophical thought and application. Throughout the journey, the narrator shares a Chautauqua with the reader, which he defines as “an old-time series of popular talks intended to edify and entertain, improve the mind and bring culture and enlightenment to the ears and thoughts of the hearer.” (7) His Chautauqua, exploring the duality of technology and art, Classicism and Romanticism, mingle with the story of the journey and bring insights to his relationship with his son. Flashbacks also show the life of a man called Phaedrus years previously, the narrator’s own life before receiving electroshock therapy to cure Phaedrus’s insanity. The trek across the nation reconciles the dualities of object and subject, father and son, past and present.

The story flows very well and the intermingling of different, well-placed modes of narration bring added insight to each preceding section. The depth of the author’s skill in writing and clarity of thought is evident in his ability to explain philosophical ideas on a level that most readers can understand, with some thought, of course. He uses everyday occurrences to supply metaphor and application for these ideas. From this comes the motorcycle maintenance element of the title. The motorcycle provides a vehicle—pun may or may not be intended—for illustrating the differences in Classical and Romantic thought, showing parts versus whole. His goal in addressing this dualism is its elimination, or rather, a recreation in reconciliation. This is done by Quality, a third entity that I can only shortly define as the godly characteristic inherent in all good work, undefinable, yet evident. Hearers, readers, onlookers can all perceive it when experiencing a work of quality, whether it be a beautiful poem or a masterful weld-job. It is Quality that makes life worth living. It is Quality that is worth.

This discussion of quality, and one of its sub-discussions of gumption, brought me the most insight into my life and my own work. This book reads much differently than older masterpieces of literature. Pirsig does not remind me of Joyce, Longfellow, or Shakespeare, yet I feel the quality of his work. It has shown me that popular and practical prose can be meaningful and moving. His story has awakened and enlightened an understanding of myself, of my desire to pursue excellence in life, in all of life. I never want to produce another shoddy piece of work again.

Pirsig’s book is not perfect. Some of his story is left unsaid, perhaps only comprehensible to him and his son. Other statements made by the narrator do not resonate with me. I value Eastern philosophies and religious practices, respect and admire many of them, yet do not agree with all of those introduced by the narrator. But its limitations and delimitations do not remove the Quality from this story.
I would recommend this book to anyone interested in self-reflection and a different perspective on the world. It is some of the most accessible philosophy I have read, understandable and applicable to the current world.

Does that answer your QUESTion?

Parker Heiner
Spiritual and Intellectual Quests

“What,” dramatic pause, “is your name?” croaks the Bridgekeeper.
“Uhh, Parker Heiner. Of Arizona. Sort of.”
“What,” dramatic pause, “is your quest?” asks the Bridgekeeper.
I think for a while. “Are you sure you want me to tell you? I mean, I’ve been working on this for a semester now, and I ought have it down pretty good, but it’s going to take a little while for me to explain, so if you’ve got the time. I guess you’re the Bridgekeeper and can’t really go anywhere else, so here goes…”

“People are always more important.” Craig Decker’s first maxim in life rings like a tuning fork of perfect C. Clear, resounding, and unwavering, it is a truth I have denied some of my life, but which I have begun allowing to resonate within myself for the past several years. It becomes even clearer in the wake of Craig’s passing, as the waves of his life continue to influence mine. I pull a short excerpt from his family’s comments, “Craig Decker passed away tragically on July 5th 2008. However, in his short 25 years of life he has had a profound effect on thousands of people in such a positive way that we, as is family, have created this site to be a collecting ground for memories, inspiration and as a tool to continue on his legacy and hopefully make the world a better place.” This blog is incredible. You can read for hours and continually see new and incredible ways that Craig influenced others. This is a measure of how well he lived that first maxim of life.

Craig is not the first person to believe and live such a statement. Much earlier in my life, some nine months before my birth, another person who lived the same personal law set me on my mortal spiritual and intellectual quests. Growing up, my mother always focused on people, on improving their lives, on loving and caring and giving and never ever tearing down. Many a time did I groan at her “Life is about relationships, honey.” Only recently have I realized that this is the drive shaft in the vehicle of becoming what I want to spiritually and doing what I want to intellectually.

I share the same basic goal of most people I know—I want to be happy. My study of the Gospel and as much life experience as I could pack into my scant 23 and a half years has shown me that I need people. James Barry, the author of Peter Pan, once wrote, “Those who bring sunshine to the lives of others cannot keep it from themselves.” Far too often, we insist on the gloom of self-pity, self-righteousness, self-despair, self-ridicule, or self-esteem. It is when we lose our lives that we gain them, when we forget ourselves that the Lord remembers us. All activities of the Gospel have the goal of bringing us happiness and they all inspire the same desire—service to our fellowman.

And I cannot disassociate my mind from my spirit, and so cannot, nor should, take the spiritual out of the intellectual in my pursuits. Ultimately, I seek the opposite goal—a marriage of the two—as I search for knowledge and the application thereof. As I gain in understanding of the world and of man, I hope both for a better understanding of God and to aid others in seeing the divinity in it all. In them. I pursue an understanding of everything so that I can understand everyone, and in understanding them, I hope to add to them.

My spiritual and intellectual quests seek to drive me to one shared goal: peace with myself and with my God. Through all the experiences that I have had in life, I have recognized the wisdom of those who have taught me through word and deed that this is done primarily through people. What good is all the scripture study and prayer if it does not lead you to do good, as Christ did? What good is all the knowledge and expertise in the world if it does not lead you to serve others? As President Monson shares in the most recent First Presidency message, “It was said of Jesus of Nazareth that He ‘increased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man.’ Do we have the determination to do likewise? One line of holy writ contains a tribute to our Lord and Savior, of whom it was said, He ‘went about doing good…; for God was with him.’” The measure of his good, and thus, the development of his mind and spirit, can be seen in the lives he changed. When I act in accordance with Christ’s will, following his example, I am happy and I am fulfilled, for I am serving. That is my quest.

The Bridgekeeper seems too busy snoring to ask me a third question, so I walk across.

(Revised Abstract) Accuracy and predictor variables of listeners’ identification of male speaker body size, age, and ethnicity

While previous research has shown listeners' ability to determine age, ethnicity, and body size, sometimes based only on a single word, no known studies have explored the interaction of these variables in voice recognition.
To determine the factors involved, male speakers varying in ethnicity, height, weight, and age were asked to produce 5 monosyllable English words. These were analyzed for acoustic features (fundamental frequencies, formant frequencies, jitter & shimmer, voice onset time, etc.), then played for listeners asked to identify the four variables based only on that word.
Preliminary results show that listeners are most able to identify ethnicity and least accurate at identifying body size. Successful rating for Caucasian ethnicity was significantly higher than for other ethnicities. These results may have application in forensic linguistics in criminal identification.

Observations

Joseph Smith, kneeling in prayer, one arm supported by a pine stump, head bowed in supplication—this image represents the search for knowledge and truth better than any other I have seen. His figure strikes one as powerful, confident, strong and resilient, yet his pose shows humility, reverence, meekness and need. Throughout his life, Joseph sought and received instruction from the Lord, among which was often correction. The Lord, chastising one He loved, guided Joseph in his development, taught him to be a servant, and thus created the prophet who could restore and spread the Gospel of Christ.

One day, a woman stopped me, looked at me as if she knew me. "Where have we met?" she asked. I don't know. I get this a lot. Dopplegangers all over, it seems. "Oh, I remember!" she remarks. "I saw you once and thought you would be a great model of Joseph Smith. I'm a painter, and I have wanted to use you in a painting of Joseph Smith." I've heard this before, too. But I'm no Joseph.

Me, standing before a mirror, arms resting at my sides, face focused in searching—the person I see compares himself with those who have come before him and those who stand around him. Though he may look like Joseph, he sees the inadequacies, the deficiencies, the mistakes and the failures. He looks up to Joseph, loves his stories, wishes to be like him. One day, his eyes say, I will stand with Joseph as I stand now, and we will both smile. For now, he will pose, and while he poses, he thinks, esse quam videri. To be rather than to seem.