Pirsig tells the story of a journey he took with his son across the country on his motorcycle. At first, he lets the reader think the book is about the journey and a few thoughts he has about "classic" (logical) versus "romantic" (aesthetic) ways of confronting the world. Slowly, however, the reader learns that the story actually chronicles his own past, before he was hospitalized for mental instability. But he doesn't care about his past insanity as much as he cares about his past work in philosophy. Part autobiography, part intro to philosophy, and part philosophical treatise, this book heads out in so many directions, a lesser writer and a lesser thinker would have lost track of his trains of thought, and his readers would have watched them collide.
Instead, he manages to tell the story of the journey, to tell the story of his past, and to introduce the reader to an entirely new system of thought within on coherent masterpiece. I didn't agree with all his philosophy, and I didn't understand all of his philosophy (two problems that, for me, tend to be related), but I enjoyed his book. If you're up for a book that makes you think and keeps you entertained, pick up this book. It is a definite commitment, however; it took me two or three times as long as the other books I've read lately, because it requires pauses to process information and is not a book you can read when tired.
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