Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom
Journalism (1997 - 192 pp.)
Having discussed Mitch Albom's Time Keeper on here over eight years ago, and being a long-time fan of Albom's basketball writing, I figured it was high time to return to him. This time, it's a more philosophical bent, although the past year and a half of pandemic life has made us all a bit more philosophical. Albom's old professor, Morrie Schwartz, was dying of ALS at the time of writing, but was kind enough to share some profound life wisdom with Albom. The book is organized into a series of vignettes, featuring fourteen consecutive Tuesday conversations between Schwartz and Albom, as well as flashbacks to earlier time in Schwartz's life. Accepting one's imminent mortality, as Schwartz learned to do, leads to much-needed pondering about what is really important in life.
Schwartz spends much of the book railing against an America that is too obsessed with moneymaking at the expense of relationships. Although Schwartz waxes poetic, he is also unfailingly direct, making statements like "We are too involved in materialistic things, and they don't satisfy us." (84) Schwartz's core values of kindness, forgiveness and family transcend his own life,* influencing Albom heavily as the book progresses. Albom expresses regret for chasing too many dollars and not enjoying life enough, but when he shares these regrets with Schwartz, the teacher shares one of his last lessons, that we have to forgive ourselves "For all the things we didn't do. All the things we should have done." (166) As someone who has taken many of life's opportunities and passed up a few others, and is self-critical by nature, what could I have done differently? Living in the present has helped, especially when it comes to exercising** and writing, but the question always remains of what more should I be doing? Ironically, Albom mentions that "America had become a Persian bazaar of self-help", (65) combining the images of materialism and salesmanship, but does Tuesdays with Morrie simply add to the heap?
As much as Schwartz's body failed him in those last months, he and Albom were always able to share a good laugh together. Albom's sense of humour emerges within the book's first few pages, when he gives a short physical description of Schwartz: "In his graduation robe, he looks like a cross between a Biblical prophet and a Christmas elf." (3) Having graduated from an American school that is known for its pageantry, there is a Henry VIII-level theatricality. One of the book's funniest moments comes when Schwartz is discussing his early career as a psychologist, when a woman told him how thankful she was to be in Chestnut Lodge mental hospital. When Schwartz is appropriately befuddled as to why someone would be thankful for being institutionalized, she quips back about the quality of the lodgings, "Can you imagine if I had to be in one of those cheap mental hospitals?" (110) Schwartz's jokes about needing to eventually have his behind wiped for him provides much-needed bathroom humour.
I would be remiss to read Tuesdays with Morrie as a cold, clinical document, as though it were some Elizabethan screenplay. Part of getting Albom's and Schwartz's full emotional spectrum is self-reflection during and after reading. I thought of my own experience with loss - at one point, I was losing a family member each calendar year. I also thought about all I've accomplished, and how excited I am to move forward with the rest of 2021. Schwartz draws considerable attention to the lack of meaning in peoples' lives when they live in the past, and how the mark of a meaningful life is the desire to always move forward toward the future. (118) As someone who always seeks new challenges, I like Schwartz's attitude. I'm trying to make each day even better than the last, complete with measurable happiness gains. For Schwartz to have spent those last few months of his life always looking toward the future, even when he had a distinguished past and the future held a lifetime of ALS, is courageous.
In the spirit of my "giving credit where credit is due" tradition, I am pleased to credit Albom with teaching me a new word. Apparently, a "lavaliere" is "an ornamental pendant, usually jeweled, worn on a chain around the neck." It is also a type of microphone.
I read this entire book today, on a Tuesday.
Ease of Reading: 10
Educational Content: 3
*Other life guide-type books espouse similar values, sometimes with even less subtlety.
**I will hit 1,000 miles on the treadmill later this week. I have lost 25 pounds in 2021, one 5-pound month at a time. I should have run yesterday, but I didn't, so I'm going to take Morrie Schwartz's advice and forgive myself.
