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mattnixon's review against another edition
4.0
The Mansion of Happiness by Jill Lepore is a collection of loosely-connected essays exploring The Meaning of Life (capital “T”, capital “M”, capital “L”). It turns out that the answer to this grand, existential question frequently turns on the unexpected and, often, the seemingly prosaic. To wit: photography and political calculus did far, far more to create the “right to life” movement than organized religion (especially protestant Christians).
Instead of trying to answer the question of the meaning of life, Lepore looks at how modern and ever-changing forces--scientific, economic, political, technological--fundamentally alter the seemingly eternal “truths” of life. For example, there have always been children, but “childhood” is a modern construct. Where did the idea of childhood come from and what forces shaped (and continue to shape) its conception? The author uses various anecdotes and cultural artifacts--the board game “Life” and its numerous iterations, Stuart Little, 2001: A Space Odyssey, among others--to illustrate changes to the concepts of birth, childhood, adolescence, adulthood and old age.
Lepore writes with a clear point of view but without an agenda, an approach and accomplishment admirable and all too rare. While I think I understand the personal and policy implications of her essays, she resists the urge to spell anything out. This is no diatribe. My assumptions about her intent could be wrong. In fact, I would argue that this space--the distance between knowledge and what that knowledge means and to what ends it is used--is an essential theme of the book. Showing how hucksters, charlatans, politicians and marketers seize, distort, obfuscate and deny science and facts is one of clearest takeaways from this book. One new-to-me example was how Planned Parenthood was hijacked away from Margaret Sanger by eugenicists sharing a philosophy of “family planning” akin to the Third Reich’s.
At this point, I feel it’s important to offer a significant disclaimer: The Mansion of Happiness draws from a very narrow and hegemonic viewpoint. It deals almost exclusively from a post-Enlightenment (really post-Industrial; the Enlightenment era content is usually provided as context for the meat of the story), white (oh-so-very white), American point-of-view. While I try not to presume authorial intent, I would say that Lepore doesn’t even attempt to present a complete picture of the forces that shape(d) our concepts of life and death. Rather, it seems she is merely presenting some of the ways transient forces change what we believe are eternal truths (“the sanctity of life” is a concept younger than many Gen-Xers). That said, I believe the author would have better served her work by explicitly explaining her choice of such a very exclusive (and possibly exclusionary) purview.
If all this sounds like a bit of a trudge--good, important (capital “I”) reading--don’t worry. Lepore writes with alacrity and a sly sense of humor. She chooses interesting stories and then lets those stories do the heavy lifting for her instead of spilling ink on ponderous and limiting (and agenda-driven) explanations/interpretations. This book is not deep--and that’s no slight. It’s an easy read that I found wholly original and thought-provoking.
The Mansion of Happiness is an entertaining and at times profound exploration of the ideas of birth, life and death. After reading it, I have no better idea as to the meaning of life, but I do have a better understanding of the meaning of “life”, i.e., a more-informed way of unpacking the language and semiotics comprising the stages of our existence here and now on earth.
Instead of trying to answer the question of the meaning of life, Lepore looks at how modern and ever-changing forces--scientific, economic, political, technological--fundamentally alter the seemingly eternal “truths” of life. For example, there have always been children, but “childhood” is a modern construct. Where did the idea of childhood come from and what forces shaped (and continue to shape) its conception? The author uses various anecdotes and cultural artifacts--the board game “Life” and its numerous iterations, Stuart Little, 2001: A Space Odyssey, among others--to illustrate changes to the concepts of birth, childhood, adolescence, adulthood and old age.
Lepore writes with a clear point of view but without an agenda, an approach and accomplishment admirable and all too rare. While I think I understand the personal and policy implications of her essays, she resists the urge to spell anything out. This is no diatribe. My assumptions about her intent could be wrong. In fact, I would argue that this space--the distance between knowledge and what that knowledge means and to what ends it is used--is an essential theme of the book. Showing how hucksters, charlatans, politicians and marketers seize, distort, obfuscate and deny science and facts is one of clearest takeaways from this book. One new-to-me example was how Planned Parenthood was hijacked away from Margaret Sanger by eugenicists sharing a philosophy of “family planning” akin to the Third Reich’s.
At this point, I feel it’s important to offer a significant disclaimer: The Mansion of Happiness draws from a very narrow and hegemonic viewpoint. It deals almost exclusively from a post-Enlightenment (really post-Industrial; the Enlightenment era content is usually provided as context for the meat of the story), white (oh-so-very white), American point-of-view. While I try not to presume authorial intent, I would say that Lepore doesn’t even attempt to present a complete picture of the forces that shape(d) our concepts of life and death. Rather, it seems she is merely presenting some of the ways transient forces change what we believe are eternal truths (“the sanctity of life” is a concept younger than many Gen-Xers). That said, I believe the author would have better served her work by explicitly explaining her choice of such a very exclusive (and possibly exclusionary) purview.
If all this sounds like a bit of a trudge--good, important (capital “I”) reading--don’t worry. Lepore writes with alacrity and a sly sense of humor. She chooses interesting stories and then lets those stories do the heavy lifting for her instead of spilling ink on ponderous and limiting (and agenda-driven) explanations/interpretations. This book is not deep--and that’s no slight. It’s an easy read that I found wholly original and thought-provoking.
The Mansion of Happiness is an entertaining and at times profound exploration of the ideas of birth, life and death. After reading it, I have no better idea as to the meaning of life, but I do have a better understanding of the meaning of “life”, i.e., a more-informed way of unpacking the language and semiotics comprising the stages of our existence here and now on earth.
iffer's review against another edition
2.0
While I found this book a relatively engaging, quick read, especially for non-fiction, I agree with the other reviewers that Mansion of Happiness is meandering, and not in a good way. By the time I had finished reading the dust cover insert, introduction and first chapter, I already had the impression that I was reading essays on miscellaneous topics Jill Lepore found interesting that she then attempted to tweak to fit a theme so that they could be published in a book. Lo and behold, in the "Last Words" chapter, Lepore writes that most of the chapters of the book began as essays written for the New Yorker. Several interesting ideas about humans' evolving worldview about the stages of life and various historical events and figures are explored, but the "story" Lepore is trying to tell isn't cohesive.
kellyelizabeth27's review against another edition
3.0
3.5 stars: These chapters worked better as New Yorker articles. Some took on narrow topics, like board games about life, and were satisfying in their weird details. Others took on much broader topics, like breastfeeding, and felt like they barely skimmed the surface.
sburban's review against another edition
1.0
Not as good as her other books--too broad of a topic and not her usual narrative style.
lindsayhotrod's review against another edition
5.0
This is why Jill Lepore is my favorite historian. Wry, witty, and engaging, these essays follow a common theme, how we view and catalog life and death, but look at that theme from many different and interesting angles. Highly recommended.
comradem's review against another edition
3.0
The individual chapters of this book, if taken as stand-alone works, are interesting and thought provoking, but they don’t come together very well as a unified work under a single thesis or aim.
danielledg's review against another edition
2.0
Was this book well written? Yes, many chapters were New Yorker pieces. Did I learn a lot of random things? Absolutely. Do I have any idea why 80% of this book was included? Zero. Other than working the title of the book into every chapter I couldn’t figure out why most of it was there.
atschakfoert's review against another edition
4.0
The chapters read like magazine articles (probably because parts were published as articles previously), which made this a pretty quick read.