Enjoy fast, free delivery, exclusive deals, and award-winning movies & TV shows with Prime
Try Prime
and start saving today with fast, free delivery
Amazon Prime includes:
Fast, FREE Delivery is available to Prime members. To join, select "Try Amazon Prime and start saving today with Fast, FREE Delivery" below the Add to Cart button.
Amazon Prime members enjoy:- Cardmembers earn 5% Back at Amazon.com with a Prime Credit Card.
- Unlimited Free Two-Day Delivery
- Streaming of thousands of movies and TV shows with limited ads on Prime Video.
- A Kindle book to borrow for free each month - with no due dates
- Listen to over 2 million songs and hundreds of playlists
- Unlimited photo storage with anywhere access
Important: Your credit card will NOT be charged when you start your free trial or if you cancel during the trial period. If you're happy with Amazon Prime, do nothing. At the end of the free trial, your membership will automatically upgrade to a monthly membership.
Buy new:
$14.59$14.59
FREE delivery: Wednesday, April 10 on orders over $35.00 shipped by Amazon.
Ships from: Amazon.com Sold by: Amazon.com
Buy used: $10.35
Other Sellers on Amazon
+ $4.99 shipping
93% positive over last 12 months
Download the free Kindle app and start reading Kindle books instantly on your smartphone, tablet, or computer - no Kindle device required.
Read instantly on your browser with Kindle for Web.
Using your mobile phone camera - scan the code below and download the Kindle app.
Tuesdays with Morrie: An Old Man, A Young Man and Life's Greatest Lesson Hardcover – August 18, 1997
Purchase options and add-ons
“A wonderful book, a story of the heart told by a writer with soul.”—Los Angeles Times
“The most important thing in life is to learn how to give out love, and to let it come in.”
Maybe it was a grandparent, or a teacher, or a colleague. Someone older, patient and wise, who understood you when you were young and searching, helped you see the world as a more profound place, gave you sound advice to help you make your way through it.
For Mitch Albom, that person was Morrie Schwartz, his college professor from nearly twenty years ago.
Maybe, like Mitch, you lost track of this mentor as you made your way, and the insights faded, and the world seemed colder. Wouldn't you like to see that person again, ask the bigger questions that still haunt you, receive wisdom for your busy life today the way you once did when you were younger?
Mitch Albom had that second chance. He rediscovered Morrie in the last months of the older man's life. Knowing he was dying, Morrie visited with Mitch in his study every Tuesday, just as they used to back in college. Their rekindled relationship turned into one final "class": lessons in how to live.
Tuesdays with Morrie is a magical chronicle of their time together, through which Mitch shares Morrie's lasting gift with the world.
- Print length224 pages
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherDoubleday
- Publication dateAugust 18, 1997
- Dimensions5.21 x 0.82 x 7.57 inches
- ISBN-100385484518
- ISBN-13978-0385484510
- Lexile measure830L
The Amazon Book Review
Book recommendations, author interviews, editors' picks, and more. Read it now.
Frequently bought together

Similar items that may ship from close to you
“The most important thing in life is to learn how to give out love, and to let it come in.”Highlighted by 13,704 Kindle readers
“The truth is, Mitch,” he said, “once you learn how to die, you learn how to live.”Highlighted by 6,761 Kindle readers
How useful it would be to put a daily limit on self-pity. Just a few tearful minutes, then on with the day.Highlighted by 6,047 Kindle readers
Editorial Reviews
Amazon.com Review
From Library Journal
Copyright 1997 Reed Business Information, Inc.
From Kirkus Reviews
Review
“A wonderful book, a story of the heart told by a writer with soul.”—Los Angeles Times
“An extraordinary contribution to the literature of death.”—Boston Globe
“One of those books that kind of sneaked up and grabbed people’s hearts over time.”—Milwaukee Journal Sentinel
“An elegantly simple story about a writer getting a second chance to discover life through the death of a friend.”—Tampa Tribune
“As sweet and nourishing as fresh summer corn ... the book begs to be read aloud.”—USA Today
"This is a sweet book of a man's love for his mentor. It has a stubborn honesty that nourishes the living." —Robert Bly, author of Iron John
"A deeply moving account of courage and wisdom, shared by an inveterate mentor looking into the multitextured face of his own death. There is much to be learned by sitting in on this final class." —Jon Kabat-Zinn, coauthor of Everyday Blessings and Wherever You Go, There You Are
"All of the saints and Buddhas have taught us that wisdom and compassion are one. Now along comes Morrie, who makes it perfectly plain. His living and dying show us the way. —Joanna Bull, Founder and Executive Director of Gilda's Club
From the Publisher
--Robert Bly, author of Iron John
"A deeply moving account of courage and wisdom, shared by an inveterate mentor looking into the multitextured face of his own death. There is much to be learned by sitting in on this final class."
--Jon Kabat-Zinn, coauthor of Everyday Blessings and Wherever You Go, There You Are
"All of the saints and Buddhas have taught us that wisdom and compassion are one. Now along comes Morrie, who makes it perfectly plain. His living and dying show us the way."
--Joanna Bull, Founder and Executive Director of Gilda's Club
From the Inside Flap
For Mitch Albom, that person was Morrie Schwartz, his college professor from nearly twenty years ago.
Maybe, like Mitch, you lost track of this mentor as you made your way, and the insights faded, and the world seemed colder. Wouldn't you like to see that person again, ask the bigger questions that still haunt you, receive wisdom for your busy life today the way you once did when you were younger?
Mitch Albom had that second chance. He rediscovered Morrie in the last months of the older man's life. Knowing he was dying, Morrie visited with Mitch in his study every Tuesday, just as they used to back in college. Their rekindled relationship turned into one final "class": lessons in how to live.
"Tuesdays with Morrie is a magical chronicle of their time together, through which Mitch shares Morrie's lasting gift with the world.
From the Back Cover
About the Author
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
The last class of my old professor's life took place once a week in his house, by a window in the study where he could watch a small hibiscus plant shed its pink leaves. The class met on Tuesdays. It began after breakfast. The subject was The Meaning of Life. It was taught from experience.
No grades were given, but there were oral exams each week. You were expected to respond to questions, and you were expected to pose questions of your own. You were also required to perform physical tasks now and then, such as lifting the professor's head to a comfortable spot on the pillow or placing his glasses on the bridge of his nose. Kissing him good-bye earned you extra credit.
No books were required, yet many topics were covered, including love, work, community, family, aging, forgiveness, and, finally, death. The last lecture was brief, only a few words.
A funeral was held in lieu of graduation.
Although no final exam was given, you were expected to produce one long paper on what was learned. That paper is presented here.
The last class of my old professor's life had only one student.
I was the student.
It is the late spring of 1979, a hot, sticky Saturday afternoon. Hundreds of us sit together, side by side, in rows of wooden folding chairs on the main campus lawn. We wear blue nylon robes. We listen impatiently to long speeches. When the ceremony is over, we throw our caps in the air, and we are officially graduated from college, the senior class of Brandeis University in the city of Waltham, Massachusetts. For many of us, the curtain has just come down on childhood.
Afterward, I find Morrie Schwartz, my favorite professor, and introduce him to my parents. He is a small man who takes small steps, as if a strong wind could, at any time, whisk him up into the clouds. In his graduation day robe, he looks like a cross between a biblical prophet and a Christmas elf. He has sparkling blue-green eyes, thinning silver hair that spills onto his forehead, big ears, a triangular nose, and tufts of graying eyebrows. Although his teeth are crooked and his lower ones are slanted back--as if someone had once punched them in--when he smiles it's as if you'd just told him the first joke on earth.
He tells my parents how I took every class he taught. He tells them, "You have a special boy here." Embarrassed, I look at my feet. Before we leave, I hand my professor a present, a tan briefcase with his initials on the front. I bought this the day before at a shopping mall. I didn't want to forget him. Maybe I didn't want him to forget me.
"Mitch, you are one of the good ones," he says, admiring the briefcase. Then he hugs me. I feel his thin arms around my back. I am taller than he is, and when he holds me, I feel awkward, older, as if I were the parent and he were the child.
He asks if I will stay in touch, and without hesitation I say, "Of course."
When he steps back, I see that he is crying.
The Syllabus
His death sentence came in the summer of 1994. Looking back, Morrie knew something bad was coming long before that. He knew it the day he gave up dancing.
He had always been a dancer, my old professor. The music didn't matter. Rock and roll, big band, the blues. He loved them all. He would close his eyes and with a blissful smile begin to move to his own sense of rhythm. It wasn't always pretty. But then, he didn't worry about a partner. Morrie danced by himself.
He used to go to this church in Harvard Square every Wednesday night for something called "Dance Free." They had flashing lights and booming speakers and Morrie would wander in among the mostly student crowd, wearing a white T-shirt and black sweatpants and a towel around his neck, and whatever music was playing, that's the music to which he danced. He'd do the lindy to Jimi Hendrix. He twisted and twirled, he waved his arms like a conductor on amphetamines, until sweat was dripping down the middle of his back. No one there knew he was a prominent doctor of sociology, with years of experience as a college professor and several well-respected books. They just thought he was some old nut.
Once, he brought a tango tape and got them to play it over the speakers. Then he commandeered the floor, shooting back and forth like some hot Latin lover. When he finished, everyone applauded. He could have stayed in that moment forever.
But then the dancing stopped.
He developed asthma in his sixties. His breathing became labored. One day he was walking along the Charles River, and a cold burst of wind left him choking for air. He was rushed to the hospital and injected with Adrenalin.
A few years later, he began to have trouble walking. At a birthday party for a friend, he stumbled inexplicably. Another night, he fell down the steps of a theater, startling a small crowd of people.
"Give him air!" someone yelled.
He was in his seventies by this point, so they whispered "old age" and helped him to his feet. But Morrie, who was always more in touch with his insides than the rest of us, knew something else was wrong. This was more than old age. He was weary all the time. He had trouble sleeping. He dreamt he was dying.
He began to see doctors. Lots of them. They tested his blood. They tested his urine. They put a scope up his rear end and looked inside his intestines. Finally, when nothing could be found, one doctor ordered a muscle biopsy, taking a small piece out of Morrie's calf. The lab report came back suggesting a neurological problem, and Morrie was brought in for yet another series of tests. In one of those tests, he sat in a special seat as they zapped him with electrical current--an electric chair, of sorts--and studied his neurological responses.
"We need to check this further," the doctors said, looking over his results.
"Why?" Morrie asked. "What is it?"
"We're not sure. Your times are slow."
His times were slow? What did that mean?
Finally, on a hot, humid day in August 1994, Morrie and his wife, Charlotte, went to the neurologist's office, and he asked them to sit before he broke the news: Morrie had amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), Lou Gehrig's disease, a brutal, unforgiving illness of the neurological system.
There was no known cure.
"How did I get it?" Morrie asked.
Nobody knew.
"Is it terminal?"
Yes.
"So I'm going to die?"
Yes, you are, the doctor said. I'm very sorry.
He sat with Morrie and Charlotte for nearly two hours, patiently answering their questions. When they left, the doctor gave them some information on ALS, little pamphlets, as if they were opening a bank account. Outside, the sun was shining and people were going about their business. A woman ran to put money in the parking meter. Another carried groceries. Charlotte had a million thoughts running through her mind: How much time do we have left? How will we manage? How will we pay the bills?
My old professor, meanwhile, was stunned by the normalcy of the day around him. Shouldn't the world stop? Don't they know what has happened to me?
But the world did not stop, it took no notice at all, and as Morrie pulled weakly on the car door, he felt as if he were dropping into a hole.
Now what? he thought.
As my old professor searched for answers, the disease took him over, day by day, week by week. He backed the car out of the garage one morning and could barely push the brakes. That was the end of his driving.
He kept tripping, so he purchased a cane. That was the end of his walking free.
He went for his regular swim at the YMCA, but found he could no longer undress himself. So he hired his first home care worker--a theology student named Tony--who helped him in and out of the pool, and in and out of his bathing suit. In the locker room, the other swimmers pretended not to stare. They stared anyhow. That was the end of his privacy.
In the fall of 1994, Morrie came to the hilly Brandeis campus to teach his final college course. He could have skipped this, of course. The university would have understood. Why suffer in front of so many people? Stay at home. Get your affairs in order. But the idea of quitting did not occur to Morrie.
Instead, he hobbled into the classroom, his home for more than thirty years. Because of the cane, he took a while to reach the chair. Finally, he sat down, dropped his glasses off his nose, and looked out at the young faces who stared back in silence.
"My friends, I assume you are all here for the Social Psychology class. I have been teaching this course for twenty years, and this is the first time I can say there is a risk in taking it, because I have a fatal illness. I may not live to finish the semester.
"If you feel this is a problem, I understand if you wish to drop the course."
He smiled.
And that was the end of his secret.
ALS is like a lit candle: it melts your nerves and leaves your body a pile of wax. Often. it begins with the legs and works its way up. You lose control of your thigh muscles, so that you cannot support yourself standing. You lose control of your trunk muscles, so that you cannot sit up straight. By the end, if you are still alive, you are breathing through a tube in a hole in your throat, while your soul, perfectly awake, is imprisoned inside a limp husk, perhaps able to blink, or cluck a tongue, like something from a science fiction movie, the man frozen inside his own flesh. This takes no more than five years from the day you contract the disease.
Morrie's doctors guessed he had two years left.
Morrie knew it was less.
But my old professor had made a profound decision, one he began to construct the day he came out of the doctor's office with a sword hanging over his head. Do I wither up and disappear, or do I make the best of my time left? he had asked himself.
He would not wither. He would not be ashamed of dying.
Instead, he would make death his final project, the center point of his days. Since everyone was going to die, he could be of great value, right? He could be research. A human textbook. Study me in my slow and patient demise. Watch what happens to me. Learn with me.
Morrie would walk that final bridge between life and death, and narrate the trip.
The fall semester passed quickly. The pills increased. Therapy became a regular routine. Nurses came to his house to work with Morrie's withering legs, to keep the muscles active, bending them back and forth as if pumping water from a well. Massage specialists came by once a week to try to soothe the constant, heavy stiffness he felt. He met with meditation teachers, and closed his eyes and narrowed his thoughts until his world shrunk down to a single breath, in and out, in and out.
One day, using his cane, he stepped onto the curb and fell over into the street. The cane was exchanged for a walker. As his body weakened, the back and forth to the bathroom became too exhausting, so Morrie began to urinate into a large beaker. He had to support himself as he did this, meaning someone had to hold the beaker while Morrie filled it.
Most of us would be embarrassed by all this, especially at Morrie's age. But Morrie was not like most of us. When some of his close colleagues would visit, he would say to them, "Listen, I have to pee. Would you mind helping? Are you okay with that?"
Often, to their own surprise, they were.
In fact, he entertained a growing stream of visitors. He had discussion groups about dying, what it really meant, how societies had always been afraid of it without necessarily understanding it. He told his friends that if they really wanted to help him, they would treat him not with sympathy but with visits, phone calls, a sharing of their problems--the way they had always shared their problems, because Morrie had always been a wonderful listener.
For all that was happening to him, his voice was strong and inviting, and his mind was vibrating with a million thoughts. He was intent on proving that the word "dying" was not synonymous with "useless."
The New Year came and went. Although he never said it to anyone, Morrie knew this would be the last year of his life. He was using a wheelchair now, and he was fighting time to say all the things he wanted to say to all the people he loved. When a colleague at Brandeis died suddenly of a heart attack, Morrie went to his funeral. He came home depressed.
"What a waste," he said. "All those people saying all those wonderful things, and Irv never got to hear any of it."
Morrie had a better idea. He made some calls. He chose a date. And on a cold Sunday afternoon, he was joined in his home by a small group of friends and family for a "living funeral." Each of them spoke and paid tribute to my old professor. Some cried. Some laughed. One woman read a poem:
"My dear and loving cousin ...
Your ageless heart
as you move through time, layer on layer,
tender sequoia ..."
Morrie cried and laughed with them. And all the heartfelt things we never get to say to those we love, Morrie said that day. His "living funeral" was a rousing success.
Only Morrie wasn't dead yet.
In fact, the most unusual part of his life was about to unfold.
Product details
- Publisher : Doubleday; First Edition (August 18, 1997)
- Language : English
- Hardcover : 224 pages
- ISBN-10 : 0385484518
- ISBN-13 : 978-0385484510
- Lexile measure : 830L
- Item Weight : 10 ounces
- Dimensions : 5.21 x 0.82 x 7.57 inches
- Best Sellers Rank: #3,483 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- #3 in Educator Biographies
- #138 in Motivational Self-Help (Books)
- #152 in Memoirs (Books)
- Customer Reviews:
About the author

Author, screenwriter, philanthropist, journalist, and broadcaster, Mitch Albom has written 8 number-one NY Times bestsellers — including Tuesdays with Morrie. His books have sold more than 40M copies in 48 languages worldwide. He has also written award-winning TV films, stage plays, screenplays and a musical. He appeared for more than 20 years on ESPN, and was a fixture on The Sports Reporters. Through his column at the Detroit Free Press, he was inducted into both the National Sports Media Association and Michigan Sports halls of fame and was the recipient of the Red Smith Award for lifetime achievement.
Following his bestselling memoir Finding Chika and Human Touch, an online serial that raised nearly 1 mllion dollars for pandemic relief, he returned to fiction with The Stranger in the Lifeboat. His new novel, set during the Holocaust, is The Little Liar.
Albom now devotes most of his time to philanthropic work through SAY Detroit and Have Faith Haiti, among many other initiatives.
Customer reviews
Customer Reviews, including Product Star Ratings help customers to learn more about the product and decide whether it is the right product for them.
To calculate the overall star rating and percentage breakdown by star, we don’t use a simple average. Instead, our system considers things like how recent a review is and if the reviewer bought the item on Amazon. It also analyzed reviews to verify trustworthiness.
Learn more how customers reviews work on AmazonReviews with images
-
Top reviews
Top reviews from the United States
There was a problem filtering reviews right now. Please try again later.
I mark my life by the little moments of meaningful encounters with people that brought significance to my life or to theirs; where the most enriching moments have been when someone got my attention to stop, look around, and really appreciate life for all its wondrous aspects--this book, and Morrie Schwartz, was one of those moments.
Morrie’s strikingly simple message caused me to look inward and reconsider some of the things I’ve been doing in my life. I know life is short, and there are so many worthwhile things I want to do in so little time, but, like everyone else, I get easily caught up in our Western culture of "go, go, go!" Morrie seems to plead with the reader to step out of that mainstream madness and step into a slower path where life brings more meaning and value not only to your own life, but to those around you. This book is not a “self-help” book, rather, it is a memorabilia about a man who thrived in helping others, but don’t be surprised if you walk away having your own life helped.
The key themes in this book are meaning, happiness, and love--the gold many seek for but far too few seem to find. For Morrie, he already carried a happy disposition throughout his life and enjoyed a long love-filled marriage and happy little family, but it seemed like it was his impending death that really drove home the need for him to find more meaning in his life (this, in and of itself, incredibly struck me). If I took one message away from this book, it was that Morrie is exhorting people to not wait another day, but to go find meaning in their life right now in this moment they are alive. It was an astounding admonition from a seasoned veteran of life, and one that I took to heart.
I have learned so much through Morrie. For most of my life I have kept quiet about how happy I am because I see how many people around me are suffering, and I feel guilty about how much happiness I have. I often wonder why I should be so happy when so many people around me are so unhappy. It doesn’t seem fair. However, if Morrie was feeling happy, he was LOUD about it! And not only did that make me laugh out loud, it really made me pause and consider the value of it. What if that’s the better way to live? What if more people could be helped if everyone who is happy did that?
This really made me question where this guilt about being happy was coming from within me, and why Morrie seemed so freed from it. And, you know--I honestly couldn’t figure it out. I just know part of the reason I’m quiet about my happiness is probably because of our hostile culture today, and perhaps I’m afraid of being misunderstood and even villainized once people find out the source of my happiness? And I know that even though I’m a Millennial, and Morrie was part of the Greatest Generation, that, for all our differences, I felt like I found a kindred spirit in Morrie. He expressed his love of life just like I love life, and it made me feel so close to him and so connected to a part of humanity I rarely feel connected to today. Life is such a radical gift, and I see and treasure that appreciation together with Morrie.
And even though my life doesn’t mirror any of the suffering Morrie experienced near his end, my life is still not free of trials, sorrows, sufferings, struggles, loneliness, pain, sweat, and tears. Those things are very much a part of my life, and yet, those curses have been the vehicle that has led me to the greatest blessings in my life, so how can I despise them? It is in persevering that I found an equilibrium where the greatest contentment and joys were found. And in that, I have found that peace is more to be treasured than even happiness. Happiness is often an outward, conditional thing that with one thought or outward instance it can flee away, but peace is an inward, immovable thing that no matter what is going on, it quietly endures. You can have peace even in the midst of the darkest trials where happiness has no light. Peace is often times the vehicle to happiness, I have found.
All these things Morrie has drawn out of my heart afresh. Yet, Morrie challenges me, even now, that how can I praise him for his forthrightness, if I myself am not also forthright about my happiness, even right here and right now? Is it fear and doubt holding me back? I suppose Morrie would say yes, and then he would probably add a word of encouragement by saying that you will always be at risk of being misunderstood or villainized when you have enough courage and vulnerability to speak up, so fear and doubt should never hold you back from speaking forth what is in your heart. I have come to realize, this is precisely the risk Morrie is pleading with us to take daily.
And even though Morrie and I couldn’t be more different, in every way, and perhaps we would even describe the source of our happiness differently, I have found that our humanity is our common bond, and, therefore, our differences are irrelevant in light of our Source being the same. So I will gladly share my happiness, just like Morrie would want me to do:
This Source of all humanity--what bonds us all together no matter our differences-- is also the source of my happiness, and it is none other than God. I don’t mean a cold religion, or a lofty idea, I mean the Father and Creator of us all, and His Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, who is dwelling within me right now and in whom I live by the power of the Holy Spirit. It is truly astounding. I was lost in the darkness and death of sin, but then Jesus redeemed my soul and saved me from it, giving me a wonderful new life in Him. One of my favorite verses in the Bible (Colossians 1:13-14) expresses this truth better than my own little words ever could: “For He rescued us from the domain of darkness, and transferred us to the kingdom of His beloved Son, in whom we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins.”
My whole life changed when I took that small step of faith by believing in Him (“Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and you will be saved” -Acts 16:31), and now I walk in daily fellowship with the Lord and He is why I have so much joy and peace daily. And even though I don’t have the things Morrie had in life (a fulfilling career, marriage, and a family of my own), there are days when I am so happy in the Lord that I am filled to overflowing, and even bursting, with joy that it is hard to imagine life could get any better than what I already have in the Lord! And yet, life does only keep getting better--it gets richer and more meaningful the more I live my life aligned with His Word, the Bible. The Lord is my everything, and I do not fear death, He is why I am so happy and have so much to share with others, so they too can have this same joy that the Lord wants every human to have through His Son.
And if there is one way Morrie’s advice has changed my life in a practical way, I would say it was his encouragement to go out and sit in nature and just stare at it, to be quiet in it, and to soak up all the vibrant life that is around us, because I have taken his advice to heart and doing this one act daily has quieted my soul and drawn me so much closer to the Lord more than anything else.
I can only testify to what the Lord has done in my own life, and I hope that just like Morrie shared his happiness, that my sharing my happiness, might bring some happiness into someone else’s life.
I will forever be thankful to Morrie Schwartz, for this soul God created and loved so much. The Lord has put many people in my life for me to learn from, and I am thankful for every single one of them, but Morrie will always hold a special place in my heart. Thank you, Morrie, for bringing me closer to the Lord and helping me see life more beautifully for what it truly is.
You will not be disappointed in reading this book, and I hope the wisdom Morrie displayed will soak into your own soul and also bring forth beauty into your life.
This book truly touches your heart. It’s a tear jerker so have tissues handy! I’ve recommended it to all my family and friends. So good
Mitch Albom is a friendly sort of average insightful guy in regards to the Human Condition. And when we, mere mortals, out here read his works - it touches the average man/woman and young person with an intensity that makes us actually think and consider various inner convictions and ideals. I see no need to fill volumes of worthless pages with iconoclastic rambling rhetoric to relate such a simple story as this or please those with a self-righteousness condescension to anyone who likes them that makes their negative reviews completely suspect. To those who find it too simplistic to be meaningful it would seem they are among those "useful idiots" identified in recent literature.
Before hitting the send button...I usually sit and ponder the book holistically for its intrinsic value and effect on me and others that might be willing to give it a chance.
And that is why I am completely taken aback by the negative reviews of the Albom books especially "The Five People You Meet in Heaven" created by him and also how they compare that work to this one or this to another so poorly. It is just mind boggling how anyone can herald one with positive praise and then the other with negativism or treat both of them as miserable failures.
And my lord, the extremes on these book reviews for this simplistic series of thought provoking submissions seem to go from Condemnation as if it were the words of Satanic himself - to the other extreme that Mitch's words are Angelic Music playing in some mystical background. Yet in truth neither is correct or `spot-on'.
His revelations are in no way negative but neither are they divinely found in the cosmos floating around like free spirited thoughts of Godlike omnipotent creatures that can be trapped with a butterfly net of Morrie's death. Certainly we can find these concepts and self-discovered truths throughout history and literature that he found near death - `everywhere' - and even in the pew book holders of our local churches; if we bothered any more to investigate that great guide to spiritual well being and the great light of truth. It is called "The Bible".
But if you do not like that - there are thousands of equally profound writings to be sure. But wow, can't some of these people just read a short story for what it is? My goodness, if one can find wisdom in a newspaper peanuts cartoon - or in Beadle Bailey or Garfield - surely one can give Mr. Albom some slack here!
Of course most of the negatives are obviously political, anti-religious and socially engineering motivated haters, who are morally challenged, self-centered, jealous egotist of the left persuasion, or at least they would seem so. A in reverse the other side is too ready to praise a mere simple story of death as prophetic in nature.
For my part I am on the side of the Angels however because "To be cursed by the devilish hate-mongers who seem to hate everything about this book, and Mitch or anyone else who puts their fingerprints on its pages - Is to be truly blessed" in the words of `Kwai Chan Cane' in the old film "Kungfu".
Most of us are in the middle of that "pulling in opposite directions" thing Morrie speaks of in the book. These Albom books are not classics, not epics nor are they the voice from the burning bush - for Pete's Sake. No one expects them to be...except the naysayers. I am no fan of the Oprah Winfrey minion squads who live and breathe on her every word or whim. Nor do I run out and buy her book recommendations. I did not even know until I read a negative review she had anything to do with it. And if you really want to attack someone for making a buck off of pain and suffering - try her and her buddy Dr. Phil!
These books do tend to take people to places where they do not want to go or fear to go - and they force them to go there if you give them a chance and read them through. They make you think of mortality, death, disease, deterioration of one's senses and flesh, of loss and tragedy and heaven and what comes after life and how we live, interact and conduct ourselves while here on this earth and if it is in its own simple way or through simple tales and stories...SIMPLE...so what?
In some cases they take us to places that find Morrie being a downright scoundrel in his younger years to one group - and a hero to another. Radicalism on one hand makes him into a fraud to the reality of fundamental truths and real intellectual civilized awareness and to honorable insight - and makes him look like an unprofessional buffoon. And yet on the other hand a driving force for social change in his own mind; some of it good and a lot of it bad from my read and his generation helped cause the destruction of civil society in the process.
Yet one senses that Morrie was simply human and had everyone else's flaws and weaknesses and he was almost like an "Absent Minded Professor" in some respects and in some of the chapters. And in one...he actually fit the bill where the author calls him "Foolishly Naive" in "The Professor Part II".
But this book and Albom's others are easy, enjoyable reads. Yes, saddening in a sort of good way - and fascinatingly thought provoking and interesting in others. This one challenges you inside and out to just step back and take a look at your own life, your actions and in actions and do what Socrates thought was so important in life; to do some Self-Examination when he wrote; "The Unexamined life is not Worth Living!" -
That great thinker set the stage for a great mental process - many hundreds of years beyond his own time for people like Mitch Albom and others - who would, on their own initiative, use these philosophies to give us pause in our present lives to make us question just what it is that drives us and what it is that is really the foundation of importance to each of our souls, spirits, everyday lives and for our individual well-being.
It is simply pure and unadulterated boulder dash, poppycock and simpleton rubbish to evaluate/review his books badly. The Neanderthals and hypocrites out there - need you to discard anything `heaven like' or `God Fearing' or `spiritual' and only accept a work that avoids these essentials, almost cowardly sometimes in heir manipulative intent to steer around any in depth discussion of these profound questions or force others to detour away from these subjects even when contemplating the mysteries of the Cosmos, the Universe, Life and what comes afterwards.
This work is simply - just as good and moving as its brothers or sisters I.E. "The Five People You Meet in Heaven" or "For One More Day". It is not better, it is not worse, it is not superior in any way and it is not the most monumental epic story ever told! It is just a good book, a good tale, a good story and a book that makes you say, within your own heart, mind and soul -
"Wow, how would I spend my last days, weeks or months - if I had such a disease or knew my approximate day of death?" And what will it be like - when - I in whatever form I become - float off into that hidden world of existence in realms beyond the skies?
A magnificent assertion that Morrie was right about however is that - "Most people do not want to discuss dying or they inwardly believe they are not going too!"
For me the best chapter in this book was "The Eighth Tuesday" when they discuss the evils of - and the quest for money and power; because the exchange of a true loving hug of friendship is worth more than "Gold Pressed Platinum" or even the "Power of that supercilious - Ted Turner".
I am reading all of this Author's works and they mean a great deal to my thought process recently and more to me now - as I have just survived my fourth major heart attack and did not expect to live through the ambulance ride to the hospital. So they are having a profound effect upon me; one and all.
Each has a special meaning to me and each in a different way. And each has touched a nerve in my soul, my mind, my heart and my thinking and touched me in deep emotional ways. I will continue to read them all with joy and a smile and a questioning heart. I have many books on my shelves some intense, some long, some short like these. I find them all fascinating and always give the author the benefit of the doubt on usefulness.
"Tuesday's With Morrie" has no more or less identifiable flaws in it - then do any other books from any other author. BUT I LIKE THEM ALL! And if the nay Sayers read them all and pick one over the other and call one dribble for mere politically partisanship, or special interest liberalized nonsense reasons or try to hate bait us into condemning any of them because one touches upon a forbidden idiotic progressive theme of God, country, patriotism, spirituality, religion or heaven or the afterlife - then shame on the reader for interjecting their prejudice, condescending attitudes, mentally and literary challenged minds into it.
This is pure and simply a good book! Other readers and reviewers may find this book moving or not but to say it is bad is simpleminded.
They are wonderfully written and I find benefit to all the themes of Mitch Albom's books. This one has you again wondering who Morrie would be in my life or better yet "How many Morrie-like persons were there in my adventure in this world and this existence"!
Again delightfully thought provoking and I thank the author for expanding my imagination, my intellectual pondering and for sharing his vision through Morrie about some of life's many questions - with the world.
"The Five People You Meet in Heaven" - The best so far
"Tuesdays with Morrie" - Second Best
I am now already - "For One More Day".
JPL
I almost gave highlights in every page of this book.
And Prof Morrie is the very few of a walking manifestation of love!
Top reviews from other countries
que impactan profundo en tu vida.
"Quien honra a sus maestros, se honra así mismo"
"Tuesdays with Morrie" by Mitch Albom is based on a true story, delving into the profound relationship between a student and his mentor, exploring themes of life, love, and mortality. The plot revolves around Mitch Albom's reconnection with his former college professor, Morrie Schwartz, as he comes to know about Morrie's terminal illness. Through a series of Tuesday meetings, Mitch learns invaluable life lessons from Morrie, ultimately transforming his perspective on what truly matters in life.
Mitch skillfully weaves themes of compassion, forgiveness, and the pursuit of happiness throughout the narrative. Morrie's teachings on embracing vulnerability and finding joy in the midst of suffering resonated deeply with me, prompting introspection and self-reflection. The book serves as a reminder to cherish meaningful connections and live authentically in the face of adversity.
Mitch's writing style is both engaging and emotive, capturing the essence of Morrie's wisdom with sincerity and depth. The Q&A format of the book (much similar to The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari and Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo) provides a conversational tone that invites readers to participate in Morrie and Mitch's intimate discussions. Mitch's poignant portrayal of Morrie's declining health is both heart-wrenching and inspiring, reminding us of the fragility of life and the importance of cherishing every moment.
Both the main characters in "Tuesdays with Morrie" are richly developed, each contributing to the overarching themes of the story. Their dynamic relationship is portrayed with authenticity and vulnerability. Morrie emerges as a compassionate and insightful mentor, while Mitch undergoes a transformative journey of self-discovery and personal growth. I love how Mitch's character is developed throughout his interaction with Morrie. He like many of us is skeptical about what the old man has to say, but gradually he not only understands him better he also grows closer to him. Emotionally and physically.
I enjoyed how the book preaches without being preachy. There are no lengthy discussions about a topic but a quick acknowledgment and addressing of the various aspects of our lives.
I highly recommend "Tuesdays with Morrie" for its powerful storytelling and profound insights into the human experience. Whether you're seeking wisdom, comfort, or simply a compelling narrative, this book offers invaluable lessons that will stay with you long after you turn the final page.




















