A penetrating and provocative exploration of human mortality, from Epicurus to Joan Didion
For those who don’t believe in an afterlife, the wisdom of the ages offers four great consolations for that death is benign and good; that mortal life provides its own kind of immortality; that true immortality would be awful; and that we experience the kinds of losses in life that we will eventually face in death. Can any of these consolations honestly reconcile us to our inevitable demise?
In this timely book, Andrew Stark tests the psychological truth of these consolations and searches our collective literary, philosophical, and cultural traditions for answers to the question of how we, in the twenty-first century, might accept our mortal condition. Ranging from Epicurus and Heidegger to bucket lists, the flaming out of rock stars, and the retiring of sports jerseys, Stark’s poignant and learned exploration shows how these consolations, taken together, reveal death as a blessing no matter how much we may love life.
I expected so much more from this book. Especially with the title--The Consolations of Mortality: Making Sense of Death--I expected realistic stories, facts or philosophies about mortality, ones that perhaps would tend to reassure. Instead, this book was filled with theories, spurious arguments, and unrealistic discussions, none of which fulfilled what was stated in the title. This book had more of a textbook feel than anything else. Parts of this book were interesting, but not interesting enough for me to recommend or purchase this book.
Thank you to Netgalley and Yale University Press for an advance copy of this in exchange for an honest review.
My main thought after completing this book was that I wished I could spin a yarn as the author of this book could. The introduction part of the book summarises a view on mortality as a separate entity from life itself, therefore that it should not be considered on a par with it. The following sections are filled with numerous examples and quotes on the subject, but don't reveal anything more. The author quotes Montaigne in asking "Why are you afraid of your last day? It brings you no closer to your death than any other did". Pity, but a single chapter of Montaigne's " That to philosophise is to learn to die" gives more information on the subject than this whole book.
Surprisingly, given that most of us are hopelessly addicted to our own being and consciousness, Stark writes in his introduction that we should appreciate, not bemoan, the fact that we are going to die. He is a non-believer in any religious notion that there is an afterlife, so rule out any notion of heaven.
He's come up with four "strategies" for looking at our mortal condition: 1) Death is good 2) Mortality gives us everything that immortality could offer 3) Immortality would actually be bad for us 4) Life already gives us all the bad things that death does
He begins with quoting the Greek Epicurus who apparently held that as long as we are here our death isn't. And when it does come, we won't be here to be bothered by it. Perfectly logical, but not very psychologically satisfying, as most people are disturbed, even if they say they're not, at the thought of their demise. Our personal world is the only one we know, and we cherish it and hate to see a good thing disappear. But as we march relentlessly toward our inevitable fare, our "good things" have already disappeared, and exist only in our past memories.
Suppose, though, we could relive those intense experiences that we remember (most of our ordinary experiences have been long forgotten) - wouldn't that make a longer life really worthwhile? The answer is no - reliving them would either lead to boredom, there is no going home again, or if we could live on and on, we might well postpone reliving those memories (especially if we feared boredom) and we would sink into lethargy.
Another possibility might be that if we lived, say, for hundreds of years, we'd simply forget our past experiences and start over again, living one consecutive life after another. But then, there'd be the contradiction of whether, lacking our memories, we'd even keep any sense of identity, so in effect we would "die" mamy times.
Stark speculates very entertainingly on such matters, rummaging through a wide assortment of commentaries, both in literature and pop culture references. A couple of the most interesting discussions I thought were those that talk about what does happen after we die. Either we decay and become insensate atoms forever floating in the universe, or as some futurists like to think, we somehow become part of a cosmically inclusive super-intelligence made up of all the thoughts that ever existed. Again, he finds that psychologically lacking as we give up our essential self.
Of course, there's another way of looking at all this, and that's to approach the Buddhist notion of there being no "self." All is illusion and we are made up only of moment-by-moment perceptions, sensations, thoughts, feelings, memories. Death, then, doesn't exist, so there is no simply no self to die. Again, an solution to the problem of death, but most of us like our "self" and have a hard time admitting it doesn't even exit.
His conclusion, after this intelligently rambling conversation of 232 pages, is that life does console us, even as we lose it, because "it's the best we could ever dream of, if we want to live at all."
A thoughtful, majestic book on mortality, The Consolations of Mortality delves into what it means to live with an eye on dying.
Page 101 I found particularly apt regarding how the digitization of life we are experiencing in effect renders immortal that which previously crumbled with our own death, and yet Andrew Stark deftly notes how the ineffable components of life often live outside the realm of bits of data. Nonetheless the drive to accumulate data may stem from underlying yearns to extend the mortal into the realm of the immortal.
Other beautiful passages abound as well on whether to view life as the integral of one's experiences or weigh more heavily the final states of life, how to recognize the importance of the passage of time and the multiple selves we bring to a life, a decade, a year, and even a day, the potentially crippling effects of boredom if we experienced true immortality, and the nihilism of death itself: a subject does not experience death if dead and therefore death need not be feared.
I didn’t like this book (all due apologies to Andrew Stark). To start, the title and summary were misleading; this book doesn’t contain any consolations regarding our mortality… it’s a lament at the lack of any consolations. To finish, several arguments were obviously refutable (I found myself wanting to reach through the pages and point these out to the author). This book was a laborious read that ultimately didn’t birth anything valuable for me.
Call me a foolish optimist for wanting to be consoled, but it’s been more than 3 years, and I’m still vexed by the duplicitous title.
To summarize the book in one sentence: death is bad.
Received copy for honest review from netgalley. Considering teenage depression and suicide stats, I am not recommending this for the classroom or for younger readers - like start this at age 30 and above. Apart from that, a good precise on the history of thought on mortality. Given the subject and approach to it - not exactly a shining ray of joy to read. Should be followed with sacramental wine.
Three stars because Andrew Stark makes a logical, acceptable case for mortality vs. immortality. Although well annotated I struggled with the ponderousness of the read. It was tedious and often incomprehensible to me.