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book review: Kondo, The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up
After several weeks on the waiting list, I finally checked out Marie Kondo's The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up from the library.
(Also posted on my LibraryThing account.)
The book is less extreme than some reviews have painted it to be, and has a great deal of very good advice. Most of what she says can be found in other decluttering books, so whether you'll find this book helpful depends a lot on how you like her voice and writing style. For me, it didn't work; I found much of the book irritating rather than inspiring.
Early in the book, Kondo knocks the "get rid of one thing a day" method without understanding that it's usually meant as a small kick to get started -- she specifically says that she held back on getting rid of something so that she could get rid of it the next day, which is NOT how that method's supposed to be used! "Get rid of one thing a day" is like "just work on annoying task for ten minutes" -- it doesn't mean that you can't get rid of more if you're so moved, but if you don't have the brain to work further on it, you've at least done *something*.
There's a classist aspect to saying "just get rid of everything you don't love" -- what if you're poor and really *can't* afford to replace the set of dishes you think are ugly, or the salvaged dresser, or the only outfit you own that's at all suitable for a job interview? Granted, most people reading this book aren't poor, but if this method really works universally, then it has to work for people who can't afford to replace the item they don't love (but need) with something they love right now.
Once she said that her method had to be done alone when one has quiet time, that made it clear that her method won't work for everybody, because there are quite a few people for whom uninterrupted time at home is a rarity. If she's correct that her method only works this way, I might as well throw away the book (well, return it to the library) and go back to some other method, because I can count on maybe an hour a week uninterrupted at home if I'm lucky (and that's usually after other people are in bed, so I can't do any tidying that involves noise).
One thing that many reviews and articles citing the book misconstrued: Kondo does NOT actually call for getting rid of all your books, and she does NOT give a blanket "get rid of the books you've already read, because you'll never read them again." She does say that for most people, there's no point in keeping books you've read because you'll never touch them again, but she also points out that there are exceptions, such as people for whom reading is a major hobby, scholars, and authors.
I disagree, however, with her assertion "The moment you first encounter a particular book is the right time to read it." I have encountered many books where the first time I picked up the book was the wrong time to read it, starting with Pride and Prejudice when I was eleven. (Three years later, when I had to read it for class, I loved it and have loved it ever since.) I've set aside books because I was feeling too emotionally fragile to cope with the topic, or because I was too brain-fried from life with an infant to process a complex argument. That doesn't mean I've missed my chance or that these books will never be of value to me; it simply means that now is not the right time.
That said, I do see the argument that I should at least question whether I need to own the book if I'm not going to read it in the foreseeable future. I am not planning to throw out my TBR stack, but then, I generally limit my book purchases to ones that I already know I want anyway, and I have an excellent public library where I can check out most of the books that I hear about. I expect to have more time for reading in a few years as my kids become less perpetually in need of my attention; I'm comfortable with holding on to the books that still make me think "wow, I can't wait to read this one".
(I also notice that she doesn't discuss ebooks at all. Would buying the book as an e-book satisfy her system? It certainly doesn't lead to more clutter in the house, though it might lead to mental clutter.)
The largest holes I see in her method: Kondo clearly believes in the second half of William Morris's quotation "Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful," but has little to say about the first. She briefly addresses non-beloved-but-necessary items in her discussion of paper, admitting that there are a very few papers that need to be kept, but she doesn't expand this to other areas. (Fire extinguisher, anyone? Toilet brush? Spare filter for the air conditioner?)
Also, Kondo gives lip service to the issues of decluttering when you share a household with other people, and I agree with her ultimate point that the best way to convince others to declutter is to really do it yourself and set the example. But she comes across as someone who hasn't had to take a partner's or child's needs into account when deciding what to keep and what to toss, and I'm not convinced that she really *gets* it.
So, overall, this book is not for me. I can see why someone else might find it helpful or inspiring, but when I need a reminder to keep only what I love and what I use, I'll reread Don Aslett instead.
(Also posted on my LibraryThing account.)
The book is less extreme than some reviews have painted it to be, and has a great deal of very good advice. Most of what she says can be found in other decluttering books, so whether you'll find this book helpful depends a lot on how you like her voice and writing style. For me, it didn't work; I found much of the book irritating rather than inspiring.
Early in the book, Kondo knocks the "get rid of one thing a day" method without understanding that it's usually meant as a small kick to get started -- she specifically says that she held back on getting rid of something so that she could get rid of it the next day, which is NOT how that method's supposed to be used! "Get rid of one thing a day" is like "just work on annoying task for ten minutes" -- it doesn't mean that you can't get rid of more if you're so moved, but if you don't have the brain to work further on it, you've at least done *something*.
There's a classist aspect to saying "just get rid of everything you don't love" -- what if you're poor and really *can't* afford to replace the set of dishes you think are ugly, or the salvaged dresser, or the only outfit you own that's at all suitable for a job interview? Granted, most people reading this book aren't poor, but if this method really works universally, then it has to work for people who can't afford to replace the item they don't love (but need) with something they love right now.
Once she said that her method had to be done alone when one has quiet time, that made it clear that her method won't work for everybody, because there are quite a few people for whom uninterrupted time at home is a rarity. If she's correct that her method only works this way, I might as well throw away the book (well, return it to the library) and go back to some other method, because I can count on maybe an hour a week uninterrupted at home if I'm lucky (and that's usually after other people are in bed, so I can't do any tidying that involves noise).
One thing that many reviews and articles citing the book misconstrued: Kondo does NOT actually call for getting rid of all your books, and she does NOT give a blanket "get rid of the books you've already read, because you'll never read them again." She does say that for most people, there's no point in keeping books you've read because you'll never touch them again, but she also points out that there are exceptions, such as people for whom reading is a major hobby, scholars, and authors.
I disagree, however, with her assertion "The moment you first encounter a particular book is the right time to read it." I have encountered many books where the first time I picked up the book was the wrong time to read it, starting with Pride and Prejudice when I was eleven. (Three years later, when I had to read it for class, I loved it and have loved it ever since.) I've set aside books because I was feeling too emotionally fragile to cope with the topic, or because I was too brain-fried from life with an infant to process a complex argument. That doesn't mean I've missed my chance or that these books will never be of value to me; it simply means that now is not the right time.
That said, I do see the argument that I should at least question whether I need to own the book if I'm not going to read it in the foreseeable future. I am not planning to throw out my TBR stack, but then, I generally limit my book purchases to ones that I already know I want anyway, and I have an excellent public library where I can check out most of the books that I hear about. I expect to have more time for reading in a few years as my kids become less perpetually in need of my attention; I'm comfortable with holding on to the books that still make me think "wow, I can't wait to read this one".
(I also notice that she doesn't discuss ebooks at all. Would buying the book as an e-book satisfy her system? It certainly doesn't lead to more clutter in the house, though it might lead to mental clutter.)
The largest holes I see in her method: Kondo clearly believes in the second half of William Morris's quotation "Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful," but has little to say about the first. She briefly addresses non-beloved-but-necessary items in her discussion of paper, admitting that there are a very few papers that need to be kept, but she doesn't expand this to other areas. (Fire extinguisher, anyone? Toilet brush? Spare filter for the air conditioner?)
Also, Kondo gives lip service to the issues of decluttering when you share a household with other people, and I agree with her ultimate point that the best way to convince others to declutter is to really do it yourself and set the example. But she comes across as someone who hasn't had to take a partner's or child's needs into account when deciding what to keep and what to toss, and I'm not convinced that she really *gets* it.
So, overall, this book is not for me. I can see why someone else might find it helpful or inspiring, but when I need a reminder to keep only what I love and what I use, I'll reread Don Aslett instead.