Review by Booklist Review
Cats are worlds unto themselves, and cats' insouciance toward humans fascinates us, but few writers focus their cat fancying through the lens of philosophy. Here, Gray (Seven Types of Atheism, 2018) muses on what philosophers like Seneca and Marcus Aurelius, and movements like Stoicism, Epicureanism, and Skepticism, have to say about the human struggle for meaning. Philosophy tries to bring order to the swirl of human existence. Cats, of course, have no such anguish and make human striving seem silly. Cats have no ethics and no self-image, says Gray, and we are drawn to them because of it. He cites writings by Mary Gaitskill, Colette, and Patricia Highsmith as literary examples of human love for cats. Egyptians worshipped cats as gods, and some see cats as harbingers of death, but cats don't fear death. Readers may wonder: should we be more like cats, then? Gray won't tip his hand, except to say, catlike, that the good life is the one you already have. For philosophers and philosophical cat lovers. Lots of endnotes for further discovery.
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Former academic Gray (Straw Dogs) takes an unconventional, not entirely successful, feline-focused work to exploring a wide array of philosophical concepts, from morality to death and the afterlife. Gray writes that he believes cats have more to teach humans about life than most modern philosophers (whose work Gray memorably describes as "the practice of elucidating the prejudices of middle-class academics"). This intriguing premise falls flat, though, as Gray spends considerable space on such philosophical heavyweights as Montaigne and Spinoza rather than on elucidating "the nature of cats, and what we can learn from it." Gray does entertain with his anecdotes of cat-inspired thinkers, such as Samuel Johnson, who, tormented by lifelong depression, admired cats' capacity to "spend much of their lives in contented solitude." Elsewhere, Gray describes novelist Patricia Highsmith's great sympathy for animals, which extended to once declaring that "if she could discover who docked the tail of a local black cat she would not hesitate to shoot them--'and to kill.' " However, this intermittently witty and intriguing work likely won't be enough to keep cat-loving readers from prowling elsewhere for more satisfying insight into their four-legged companions. Agent: Rebecca Nagel, Wylie Agency. (Nov.)
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Review by Kirkus Book Review
Cats are not philosophers. However, as renowned philosopher Gray argues, they have plenty to teach us about how to live. "Cats do not need to examine their lives because they do not doubt that life is worth living," writes the author in this slim, striking book. "Human self-consciousness has produced the perpetual unrest that philosophy has vainly tried to cure." Anyone who has spiraled into the depths of self-consciousness will recognize the truth in Gray's position, even at its most forceful articulation: "Posing as a cure, philosophy is a symptom of the disorder it pretends to remedy." Feline philosophy, such as it is, is a kind of anti-philosophy. Without the abstract fear of death, there is nothing to start them reflecting and philosophizing. Given the differences in nature between cats and humans, what can we learn from cats? In the final chapter, Gray offers "ten feline hints on how to live well" that are as likely as any philosopher's maxims to offer value for general readers. For example: "Sleep for the joy of sleeping. Sleeping so that you can work harder when you wake up is a miserable way to live." Sound advice, but how to put it into practice? Can we become more like cats just by deciding to be? These prescriptions, however, are not indicative of most of the book, which is curious and exploratory. Gray moves freely among writing modes, including several of the potted biographies that are common to popular works of philosophy. But he also tells stories of famous cats, dabbling in evolutionary history and showing a clear appreciation for his subject. Above all, the book is an ode to cats, and Gray gives the impression of having learned from them how to take pleasure where he finds it. A playful philosophy encouraging us to philosophize less and play more. The paradoxes are only part of the fun. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
