Mind Over Water: Lessons on Life from the Art of Rowing FROM THE PUBLISHER
In this wise and thrilling book, Craig Lambert turns rowing--personal discipline, modern Olympic sport, grand collegiate tradition, and fitness pursuit for thousands of men and women--into a metaphor for a vigorous and satisfying life. Skimming the plane where sky and water meet, rowers must fully inhabit the present moment, whether facing their demons in a single scull or discovering the paradoxes of teamwork and commitment in a crew shell. This is a book about balance, attaining consistency and speed, independence and cooperation, joy and creative powers. Filled with humor and imagination, Mind Over Water speaks to rowers and non-rowers alike.
FROM THE CRITICS
Caroline Knapp - The New York Times Book Review
. . .[A] thoughtful, lovingly drawn meditation on . . .[a] brand of transformation. . . .This is no simple ode to the beauty of river and shell; nor. ..is it a chronicle of the sport's physical rigors. Lambert covers both those bases. . . .But even the heaviest moments are offset by light . . .
Publishers Weekly
Although fishing has had many advocates who see it as a metaphor for life, Lambert, a staff writer and editor at Harvard magazine, draws many comparisons between rowing and life. The first such deals with the importance of steering and finding one's way. The second, "Equinox," relates to balance, as both rowing and life are difficult, if not impossible, without it. The last section, "The Powerhouse Stretch," involves the endgame and giving your all, and "never taking no for an answer"--familiar tropes from any comparison of sport and life, sport and business, sport and love. This is not a "how to" manual, by any means, although there is quite a bit of description about the mechanics of rowing. Mostly, Lambert's aim is to mesh his philosophy on life and rowing, and, on occasion, on other pursuits, such as electronic engineering and gardening: "To gain greater effect as athletes, we do not necessarily have to do more. The secret may be to do less, to suppress noise.... The skilled athlete eliminates motions that do not serve the desired result. Our tomato plants thrive when we weed the garden." As in this example, much of the writing is exceedingly earnest and many of the metaphors exceedingly forced. Although rowers will no doubt be hooked, others will likely head back to their Izaak Walton. (Oct.)
Caroline Knapp - The New York Times Book Review
. . .[A] thoughtful, lovingly drawn meditation on . . .[a] brand of transformation. . . .This is no simple ode to the beauty of river and shell; nor. ..is it a chronicle of the sport's physical rigors. Lambert covers both those bases. . . .But even the heaviest moments are offset by light . . .
Kirkus Reviews
Fragments of good rowing material peek through this otherwise bloated fusion of pop philosophy and inspirational drivel from Lambert (an editor at Harvard magazine). In this memoir, Lambert recounts that he was branded a "brain" in his youth, thus effectively eliminated from the sporting life. Then, at Harvard, he briefly dabbled in rowing before giving it up: too many winter hours in the dark tank room convinced him to stick to academics. Then later, after graduation and various locational and vocational moves, he returned to Boston and to the sport. He continues to row, though he is better known for his writings on the sport, which have a nice rhythm of their own and a wicked way with describing the torturous pain involved. This book shows patches of that flair, but they are tethered to a profusion of banalities that are meant to inspire and instruct. Life as a battle against headwinds is typical of his painful analogies. Other groaners include: "mistakes are not failures; they are results that diverge from our expectations"; "a steersman takes charge of life's course"; and "lessons learned afloat carry over onto dry land, where we also want maximal forward motion in our lives." (Is that the Harvard "we"?) And there are obvious stabs at mimicking fellow Bostonian Alan Lightman, the quirky descriptions of place and light, wildly original comparisons, revealing etymological dissections, that never touch his level of inspiration. Rowing is an obscure, elite sport that could use some exposure for its practitioners. Lambert might have offered that chance, but inexplicably, he fails to ply his obvious talent.