Happiness TM is a satire about how society might change if someone wrote a self help book that worked. The main character is cynical self help book editor, from whose sour, often misanthropic point of view the events seem horrific. The book is funny throughout with a compelling story line. The characters are vividly portrayed, but none are especially unique. It reads quickly, and I found myself looking forward to cracking it open whenever time allowed.
A brief recommendation, perhaps in a blog, on the Guardian website lead me to Happiness TM. I was drawn to the storyline because I have wondered a lot about the central question. Ferguson does a great job of provoking thought about the nature of contentment, satisfaction, and motivation, without getting too bogged down in philosophy or psychology. He freely admits in the introduction that his is no expert on these issues.
After certain basic material needs are met, true happiness must lie inside, through self-knowledge, acceptance, and appreciation of others. The principles, the knowledge has been with us for a long time, but aren’t we afraid of it? These principles have been with us a long time, so why haven’t we put them in practice? Ferguson describes people who read the book as if they turn to zombies. Their expressions of joy and contentment are vacant, with the life draining out of them.
Happiness TM can be seen as a critique of boosterism, of those who are relentlessly positive and upbeat. I’m a fairly positive person, and it made me want to dial it back some. The dialogue is sharp, but many of the characters wind up sounding similar. And some of the jokes become repetitive pretty quickly. But this is all acceptable because the book works perfectly as a satire.
Happiness TM and my new novel, Forgive and Take, share some general similarities of concept. My story is about the beginning of a social movement. Mike Hinton, the main character, introduces a system that will help people understand each other, and then treat each other better. Think of all the seemingly preventable problems that could be solved. But what would that create? Life without conflict, without tension?
I have often wondered if fear of boredom is a reason people don’t solve seemingly simple problems among themselves. Obviously it is often more complicated – matters of greed, selfishness, and tribalism. We will probably learn that the process of figuring them out is more important than any end result. Nevertheless, utopian scenarios are much less attractive to read and write about than dystopian, presumably because they are boring. But as I explore ideas in Forgive and Take, I try to create some tension around the unknown. That once we learn to overcome boring old social problems, which we’ve had solutions to for a long time without implementing them, then we will be exposed to a whole new series of more challenging problems. Won’t those be more exciting than updated versions of betrayal, bullying, and stealing?