If you're searching for a gift for that student who is ending her academic career or about to take a job in a strange new city, you could do worse than this modest, idiosyncratic version of an urban survival manual. According to his collaborator, Sheila Heti, The Chairs Are Where the People Go is an attempt to capture everything Misha Glouberman, a Canadian "instructor in improvised music and theater," knows. On the evidence of what's contained here, this slim volume only scratches the surface of his fertile mind.
The book offers 71 short selections on an eclectic assortment of topics, from an imaginative and highly satisfying solution to the conundrum of whether to give up a seat on a crowded subway to helpful tips for making new friends as an adult to a unique method of quitting smoking (it involves wearing a suit). Glouberman is consistently reasonable, self-effacing and creative as he poses at least tentative solutions to these dilemmas, while discoursing on thornier and more abstract subjects, like whether monogamy is a trick or how we might go about creating meaningful ritual to serve a secular society.
One of the lengthiest pieces, and among the most useful, recounts the story of how Glouberman and the members of his Toronto resident's association fended off the expansion of an already noisy neighborhood bar. It's a miniature handbook on the power of community organizing, and perhaps more importantly, on the art of effective political compromise. His exploration of the paradoxical status of being a Canadian at Harvard ("But in Canada, if you went to Harvard, it's just sort of a weird novelty... like that you're a member of Mensa or you have an extra thumb.") offers some useful insights on the role that institution occupies in any analysis of class in American society.
If you are not a fan of the game of charades or don't participate in courses on improvisation, you may find this volume a bit skewed toward those topics. But even the frothier pieces contain small gems of wisdom, like this advice to students who don't feel up to attending one of his classes: "If I can convince them to come to the class, they inevitably overcome their self-diagnosed state of not being in the right mood for it." The suggestions on how to conduct what he calls an "unconference" might be studied profitably by legions of burned-out meeting planners.
It's pleasant to imagine sharing a coffee with Misha Glouberman in a Toronto café, exploring some of life's recurring mysteries. Until that opportunity presents itself, this book is an admirable substitute.--Harvey Freedenberg
Shelf Talker: Improvisation expert Misha Glouberman offers thoughtful and entertaining glimpses into solving a few of the conundrums of modern urban life.