Carl Honoré, a foreign correspondent and father of a young son, speeds through the Rome airport, talking on his cell phone while rushing to catch a flight. as he impatiently waits in line, he skims a newspaper and his attention focuses on an article “The Oneminute Bedtime Story,” classic tales for parents too busy to leisurely read to their children. as he wonders how quickly amazon can ship the full set, a profound moment of self-realization overcomes him: “Have I gone completely insane?” following his epiphany, realizing that his life has become an exercise in hurry, Honoré sets out to discover where the need for speed comes from and how people can recover from “timesickness,” a modern-day epidemic. Honoré writes that “we barely know how to enjoy things anymore because we are always looking ahead to the next thing.” an unscheduled slot in our day often causes anxiety rather than pleasure. The food we eat comes in an instant or microwaveable form and is consumed in front of the television or in the car on the way to the gym. Our kids sprint from school to basketball practice to violin lessons to SaT prep class. In addition to working more than 40 hours a week, we are expected (and expect others) to be available around the clock via cell phone or other technology. Honoré argues that “when you accelerate things that should not be accelerated, when you forget how to slow down, there is a price to pay.” We (along with our family and friends, not to mention our planet) are paying that price both mentally and physically as we live in what the author terms “the age of rage.” Honoré expertly weaves the historical connections to speed throughout the book, providing an enlightened look at how people became slaves to time. He writes that people have always been aware of and concerned with time, even before the invention of the mechanical clock. While scheduling offered greater efficiency, “telling time went hand in hand with telling people what to do.” Industrialization and urbanization further plunged people into an era of speed where factories “could churn out more goods in a day than an artisan could make in a lifetime.” Humans were no longer limited to the mere pace of “a galloping horse or a ship at full sail.” However, Honoré points out that the book is not an argument against speed, but rather a call to live at the tempo giusto, to find the right speed. Slow does not necessarily mean functioning at a snail’s pace; in fact, “performing a task in a ‘Slow manner’ often yields faster results.” Honoré’s philosophy is about “making real and meaningful connections— with people, culture, work, food, everything.” Honoré maintains that in challenging the cult of speed, “the front line is inside our heads” as we change not only what we think but also how we think. In many ways a handbook for those seeking a calmer, more reflective life, In Praise of Slowness takes a look at what regular folks around the world are doing to find their tempo giusto and embrace a more balanced lifestyle. Honoré honestly, and often comically, shares his experiences as he puts himself into new, sometimes uncomfortable situations in an attempt to become a reformed “speedaholic.” With prose as fluid as Honoré’s, this is a book that one is tempted to rip through. Some advice—take it slow.