The Idler’s Glossary is a small book. This is not a judgment on its contents (more on that later) — the actual book measures roughly four by six inches and is less than half an inch thick. It is, thanks to its size and to the lovely design and illustrations by Seth (author of the comic book series Palookaville), cute. And as with all things cute, The Idler’s Glossary should be approached with a certain amount of suspicion.
Is there a book hidden inside this charming little package or is it merely a gimmick, designed to be left on the coffee table as a sign of sophisticated whimsy? The short answer is: both. The book is divided into two parts: an introductory essay by Mark Kingwell, the University of Toronto philosopher known for his forays into the non-academic media world, and a glossary compiled by Boston-based writer Joshua Glenn. An exercise in etymology that aims to redeem idleness from its reputation as an instrument of the devil (see IDLE HANDS and IDLENESS), Glenn’s glossary subverts, redefines, and reflects upon some 300 terms, phrases, and cultural references that are in some way related to idling. The result is part personal essay, part philosophical treatise, and part exercise in idling itself. Idling, that is, as Glenn defines it: “a rare, hard-won mode in which your art is your work, and your work is your art.” The glossary is illuminating (aestivate and limpsy are among the new words learned by this reviewer) and often funny, but it is almost forced, by virtue of the form and the approach, to be a bit too clever. See PLAYBOY: “Playboy, a turn-of-the century descriptor for ‘a man who lives a life devoted to the pursuit of pleasure’ has come to mean, thanks to the porn magazine, ‘a man who lives a life devoted to the pursuit of women with enormous breasts.’”
Likewise, Kingwell’s introductory essay, “Idling Toward Heaven,” covers an impressive amount of material in defence of idling, from Kierkergaard and Kingsley Amis to Kafka and Georges Bataille, but occasionally sounds like an elaborate excuse for Kingwell to show off his education. I was not convinced, for example, by his proposition that Kafka’s Joseph K. “is a sort of failed idler,” even taking into consideration Kingwell’s own admission that it is a “surprising possibility.”
An aside: there is a conspicuous lack of female idlers, or philosophers of idling, in the Glossary. Hannah Arendt and Ginger Rogers both make appearances, but the book is largely dominated by male laggards, lubbers, and slugabeds. To be blamed, perhaps, on history, rather than on any oversight on the part of the authors, but it begs the question: is idling an equal opportunity occupation?
Beyond being clever and cute, The Idler’s Glossary takes a firm stand for doing nothing. In these times of economic uncertainty, when life is at risk of being reduced to terms of cost and efficiency, idleness may need all the defenders it can get.
Maria Schamis Turner is the editor of carte blanche (www.carte-blanche.org).
