A Week at the Airport

I bought this book after seeing the author on TV talking about something else. I chose this particular book from his oeuvre because of an interest in airports which goes beyond planes. It is a slim volume; I should have thought that a whole week spent at Heathrow with almost open access could have produced more than this.

I found it somewhat disappointing on the whole; as well as the expected stories of individuals, it contains reflections on wider issues such as diversity, assumptions, interconnectedness, separation and so on, but at a fairly superficial level. Perhaps the most interesting parts are those where the author reveals himself, as in his admiration of airline pilots and their (to him) demi-god status. It's not a bad book: one might pick it up at an airport bookshop and use it to while away a flight to Athens. But it wouldn't get you to Sydney.

This book was not for me. I can't remember why I had it on my to-read pile - but I generally love a slice of life type book. This book was so strange. Very short - lots of pictures (but pretty banal ones). The whole thing felt like a voice over for a documentary that never really got going. At the end I was skimming pretty quickly. Felt very long for such a short book!

Say what you will about Alain de Botton, this short volume set at Heathrow's then newly-opened Terminal 5 is as good as it gets. Less reliant on the work of other writers and philosophers than he tends to be in his other books (which I have enjoyed but mention of which causes the rolling of eyes among my friends), this is a magnificent study of a building that fits one of the most important, least contemplated purposes of our lives. Brief, but there's wisdom in its brevity.

Different. Here's hoping I don't spend a week at any airports this summer.

Alain de Botton was invited to spend a week at Heathrow, to observe and interpret the moments of the world's busiest airport. I anticipated a literary behind the scenes tour, but instead was rewarded with a different but ultimately more satisfying collection of reflections on the nature of journeys, anticipation, human foibles, power, economics and shoe-shines.
He reminds us that anything and everything can be interesting, even the mundane things we encounter every day, but no longer really see or notice because they are so familiar. If we look with a traveller's eye, we can once again see the wonders and complexities of our own daily worlds. It's a slim little book, littered with small photos accompanying his observations, and is a fast but satisfying read.

A week at the airport. A Heathrow diary is a memorial piece of writing, documenting Heathrow airport. It is a dull and rather uninteresting booklet. Have any such memorials been written about Paddington or Waterloo station in the 1850s? If so, we are not reading them

The resulting, small book was a commission. The company that manages Heathrow Airport, "a multinational enterprise, otherwise focused on the management of landing fees and effluents" (p. 144) invited Alan de Botton to become "Heathrow's first writer-in-residence". Once the commission was accepted, the author's patron, "Colin Matthews, the chief executive of BAA, the owner of Heathrow" made no demands, and the author was left entiirely free to write the book as he wanted. In the opening chapter, the essayist ponders on this generosity, and the institute of patronage of artists. Foolish or not, De Botton decided to accept the invitation.

Why De Botton was approached is not mentioned, perhaps because he wrote The Art of Travel (2002) or is more generally seen as an essayist. However, he is a bit of a maverick, and particularly his earlier works did not seem very serious. Was Heathrow from the start looking for a "middle-of-the-road man"? Not that exuberantly famous, neither controversial. Or was the author chosen for any particular skill. That was in 2009. In 2011, Tony Parsons became the second writer-in-residence at Heathrow. He wrote Departures: Seven Stories from Heathrow. This booklet apparently did not do very well. Did he screw up? There haven't been any new writers-in-residence at the airport since. Have the powers-that-be lost interest in literature, so soon?

A week at the airport. A Heathrow diary is quite successful, surprisingly, as it is also pretty dull. De Botton is quite sarcastic at times about his commission and the facilities he could make use of. An airport is just not that fascinating. Are the "Airport Priests" really there because travellers anticipate the possibility of death? De Botton really wants to show that his patron made a good choice selecting him, and sprinkles the text with philosophical observations and references to philosophers. Hence, the observation that the dominance of consumerism at the airport is connected to travellers fear of a deadly accident. It seems rather far-fetched. On the other hand, the author does not mention the stress that is often so palpable at airports.

We do not normally stand still, to contemplate a utility such as an airport. On the other hand, an essay can be about anything, why not an airport? Whether De Botton did the best he could, writing A week at the airport. A Heathrow diary is doubtful. He just did his job, it seems. The book is well-crafted, but not inspired. A week at the airport. A Heathrow diary may not be so interesting now, but perhaps in 2160, a 150 years on, it will be a valuable source, or even common people may read it with relish.

De Botton was asked to be a writer-in-residence for a week at a brand new terminal at Heathrow. He and a photographer showed various facets of the airport experience: the airport hotel stay, the different workers, what happens to your luggage inside the terminal after you give it over, where the airline food comes from, people leaving each other, people meeting each other - and he gets just enough details to be interesting without becoming mundane. I would say it's a collection of airport essays, but there's a sequence and cohesiveness to the book that elevates it from a collection of essays.

The magic of this book is that it reminds me of my most wonderful trips, makes me sentimental for more adventure - including the long expanses of time at airports. I've fond memories of the upgraded Heathrow, and can't wait for my next sojourn.

Anyone who knows me will tell you I have a borderline unhealthy attraction to airports. Be it a major one, like Heathrow or LAX, or one of the smaller, like Ben-Gurion or (my hometown's) Landvetter, I will be the first one to volunteer to give you a ride or to pick you up. And I will linger for a long time after your plane has taken off or waiting for it to land.

I love watching people and luggage and planes and tarmac - just the thought of people traipsing about all over the world makes me giddy. Love it! So, when it comes to Alain de Botton's writing about being hired by BAA to spend a week at Heathrow as their writer-in-residence, I probably cannot be trusted to be an impartial judge (extraordinarily jealous as I am of his all-access pass and his opportunity to walk on 27L, where the inbound aircraft touch down).

Although the writing is more philosophical than technical, I really appreciated the behind-the-scenes information and the stories of the travelers and workers that de Botton met. Spending seven days and nights in Terminal 5 and its adjacent hotel, he got to see Heathrow from all angles, those that the rest of us see and those we never will have access to, no matter how much we ask to get a glimpse behind the curtain.

His story should invoke severe wanderlust in just about anyone. I only wish it had been a much longer book (it's only 100+ pages), but since it is a commissioned work, de Botton obviously had some restrictions, time- and otherwise.

I thoroughly enjoyed De Botton's mix of philosophical observation in the context of something as material/physical in our world. Engaging writing at times very humorous and very relevant.

The author is employed by the owner of Heathrow Airport, given free reign to its new Terminal 5, and encouraged to freely record his observations. He writes about passengers he meets, and expounds upon their lives, loves and past encounters; the airport workers, from the president of British Airways to a restroom attendant; the structure and layout of Terminal 5; and the various and abstracted experiences of being in an airport and flying. Reading this book was an interesting contrast to the Perec book, and what made this a much more interesting read for me was de Botton's personal and philosophical statements and his behind-the-scenes look at the functioning of a modern airport filled with passengers and employees from various lands and different backgrounds.

This one feels very much like a commissioned book. It isn't at par with the other de Botton books, but it still has some interesting thoughts, sandwiched between ramblings and images of the airport and the people in it. In a way, it feels like an essay that was stretched so it could be published into a book, and also satisfy the patron/sponsor. I'd still recommend the book, but potential readers may just want to borrow it, due to its steep price (there are many images inside which aren't particularly beautiful or striking).

Not one of his best, but a decent read none-the-less.