Eric Wilson is one of those authors who go on and on and on without saying a thing. One idea, three paragraphs. Against Happiness is the most verbose work I've ever read.


I was upset to find after opening this book that the authors point was lost somewhere between point A and point F on the slippery slope of logic. Every observation the author made was of such a limited scope that by the end of the first chapter I was convinced he had based them all off of some bizarre after dinner sitcom.

I honestly can not suggest reading this to anyone interested in the ideas behind the book.