“I can see by my watch, without taking my hand from the left grip of the cycle, that it is eight-thirty in the morning.” Entrancing from the very first line, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance takes readers on an unforgettable journey through one man’s reflections on life, meaning, and of course, motorcycle maintenance (as an analogy for the aforementioned items). When I first began Zen, I understood its appeal as a strange yet profound read but was wholly unprepared for how deeply it would connect with me.

Zen follows a father and son on a trip across the United States. The father takes the journey as a chance to reflect on his life, his philosophical journey, and the current circumstances he finds himself in. Despite a slow, slightly mundane beginning, a higher-stakes plot quickly emerges as the narrator reveals what the true purpose of the trip is. From there, readers are told instances of the narrator’s past between moments of the present motorcycle trip. 

Zen surprises readers with an intriguing plot and enjoyable reading experience: its profoundness is accessible, and its characters are relatable. Being a high school student, I wasn’t expecting to empathize with a middle-aged father’s reflections on life. However, Pirsig understands the human experience so well that his personal stories appeal to our collective sense of compassion. The father-son relationship was touching, realistic, and made me cry, serving as a reminder that obsessive pursuit doesn’t exist in a void, but greatly affects the loved ones in our lives.

Dubbed as the “most widely read philosophy novel of all time,” Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance earns its spot as a generational classic, but its value should be placed in its strength as a literary novel, rather than a philosophical one. The philosophy Pirsig creates isn’t academic by any means, but accurately describes the inner workings of a man struggling with meaning. Readers should view Pirsig’s thoughts on Quality as a reflection of the personal philosophy they have created for themselves. Whether or not this was what Pirsig intended, I connected most with Zen with this perspective.

With the narrator’s hyper fixation on Quality, it would be hypocritical if the novel itself was not artfully written. Pirsig acknowledges this, delivering poignant yet relatable prose. His descriptions of scenes are casual, and present tense, and I would almost miss its mastery if I wasn’t left breathless by the ending of every chapter. If you’re looking to change your life over break, look no further than the nearest bookstore-Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance is sure to provide a transformative undertaking.