Man On Wire by Philippe Petit

Or "What a Precious Little Felony!"

Some necessary background in case you don't know: So there's this guy. Kind of a crazier, more French version of Omen Sade. Juggler. Pickpocket. Highwire walker. Decides he's going to wire walk between the World Trade Center towers. He does it. Holy. Shit.

AND I JUST DON'T KNOW WHAT TO MAKE OF IT!!! WHAT AN EMOTIONAL ROLLER COASTER THIS BOOK WAS! I alternated between furiously scribbling quotations into my notebook so that I could carry them around forever and consult them when I am in need of inspiration, and literally chucking the book across the room because I was too livid to even hold it in my hands.

The tug-of-war raging in my head goes a little something like this:

One one hand, this book was inspiring beyond all possible belief.

On the other hand, Philippe Petit seems like such an asshole.

On one hand, I was weeping - weeping, I tell you - with the beauty of the language and the overwhelming emotions of the story and Petit's descriptions of his experiences.

On the other hand, it's faux-poetic, pretentious, and overblown.

On one hand, I couldn't get past Petit's outrageous selfishness.

On the other hand, if he were the kind of guy who put others' needs before this dream, he never would have done it, and we would all be the worse without this breathtakingly gorgeous anything-is-possible story.

On one hand, it awakened in me this wide-eyed sense of optimism and idealism.

On the other hand, the cyncial voice in my head wouldn't stop asking, "Where the hell does he get the money to do all this?"

I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO THINK, PEOPLE!! I mean, read it. Without a doubt. Read it. I can't tell if it's the best or the worst, but regardless it is an unbelievable act and a beautiful story. It'll make you want to do all kinds of crazy things, in the best possible way.

Note to potential Man-On-Wire-readers: If you don't want to leave this book with a sour taste in your mouth - and I mean ruin-the-experience-of-the-whole-book kind of sour - for the love of God do not, I repeat, DO NOT read the epilogue. (Or do and then immediately call me to discuss it.) It is catastrophically miserable.