**"VROOM, YAWN, RONF"**

Pirsing had enough of being in a rush. He decided to take a motorcycle trip with his eleven-year-old son, traveling from Minnesota through Dakota, Wisconsin, Montana, all the way to California and the Pacific Ocean, choosing the back streets and secondary roads. He wanted to enjoy and savor the journey without haste.

For me, who started riding motorcycles and cars at twelve, this book seemed like a godsend. I was fortunate to have an older brother with a Ducati Scrambler that he had to leave at home during his long months at the Venetian college. So, at twelve, I began riding a Ducati and still mainly move around on two wheels with an engine.

Unfortunately, instead of really enjoying the trip or stopping to maintain the motorcycle and maybe talk to me about cylinders and pistons, Pirsing, who is not only a writer but also a philosopher, spent a long time debating Socrates, Plato, Hume, Kant, Hegel, Einstein, and Lao Tzu. I liked these philosophers a lot in high school, but after that, I didn't want to hear about them anymore.
To make matters worse, Pirsing wrapped everything in Zen Buddhism. So, I didn't enjoy these parts of the book at all. I really wanted to skip them and move on to the parts about the sound of the engine, the feeling of a curve, and the wind in my face. However, there are very few of these parts, and the parts dedicated to the theory of Quality and filled with metaphysics abound and prevail.
The fault lies with John and Sylvia, Pirsing's two friends who were traveling with him and his son. For 80/100 pages, there were two motorcycles on the road. It was wonderful. Then, the couple of friends stopped at the house of other friends and stayed there, and only Pirsing and his son continued. Maybe because he felt the lack of his friends, or maybe because the eleven-year-old's conversation was not very stimulating - and on a motorcycle, you can't talk much - Pirsing started to be a philosopher and spout philosophy and even worse, Zen. And that's how he lost me, or I lost him. It's a pity.
I didn't want to try again with the sequel that came out twenty-seven years later, especially because from what I understood, the motorcycle had disappeared, even as just an excuse. But the philosophy remained. A lot of it (in "Lila: An Inquiry into Morals"). I wonder if the travel diaries of the evil Dibba national were inspired by this thick volume.

This is the absolute worst book that I have ever had the misfortune to read from cover to cover. Sadly, just before picking up this particular volume, I made the ill-fated decision to attempt to finish every book that I begin.

It fails miserably on nearly every conceivable level that a book can fail. The plot is absurdly dull, lacking any semblance of excitement or intrigue. The writing style is that of a novice, with amateurish prose and a lack of sophistication. And the philosophical discussions are outrageously idiotic, bordering on the nonsensical. Seriously, one has to wonder how in the world this book managed to get published in the first place. And yet, it continues to be published, which is truly baffling. How on earth have I now become a person who has read this drivel? It is truly embarrassing.

I couldn't help but laugh out loud at the stupidity of the author's arguments and the blatant autobiographical and egotistical nature of the entire work. It is nothing but hundreds of pages of absolute garbage. I cannot emphasize enough just how bad this book is. It is a complete waste of time and money, and I would highly recommend that no one else subject themselves to the same torture.

The place to enhance the world commences first within one's own heart, head, and hands, and then extends outward from there.

Robert M. Pirsig's remarkable 1974 novel, which chronicles a father and son's motorcycle journey across the west, from Minnesota to California, is not only a physical adventure but also a profound exploration for the reader. We analyze this "fictionalized autobiography" in terms of relationships, unreliable narrators, delusions, mental illness, and ultimately, the pursuit of truth within oneself.

"The truth knocks on the door and you say, 'Go away, I'm looking for the truth,' and so it goes away. Puzzling." This statement also pertains to quality and its significance. Pirsig's meandering quest for quality, and/or Tau, or Buddhism, lies at the core of his narrative and serves as a focal point for his contemplations on truth.

"You look at where you're going and where you are and it never makes sense, but then you look back at where you've been and a pattern seems to emerge." The book delves into the narrator's relationship with his son, as well as his interactions with others, yet it is also about his reconciliation with his own past and how he can become the man he is today while understanding his former self and the journey that led him to this point.

This is one of the best-selling philosophy books of all time, and although it may not be an easy read, it is a treasure. "Sometimes it's a little better to travel than to arrive."

*** 2025 reread - This is a captivating philosophy book intertwined with a compelling story. This time around, I noticed the author's personality shining through, and the story proved to be more engaging than I initially realized. Previously, I regarded this mainly as a book of philosophy, which it indeed is, with long sections dedicated to erudite philosophical musings. However, the surface story of a father rediscovering himself possesses greater depth and charm than I perceived during my first reading.

That being said, it can be a dry book at times, and while there are sections that showcase excellent writing, there are others that lagged significantly. Perhaps this book has not aged as well as I initially thought. Nevertheless, it remains a truly outstanding work and is well worth the time to explore or reread.