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 “Systematically & mercilessly realigning the world of cycling,” is the subtitle of this blog-gone-book, published by Chronicle, the bees’ knees of over-designed and kitschy gift books. And while Bike Snob does contain, despite itself, some advanced observations on bike culture, “Systematically cracking jokes about cyclists since 2007” would seem to sum the book up far more accurately.
Other than categorizing and deriding different strands of cyclists and their car-driving enemies, Bike Snob also contains some useful advice, like temperature guides for when to ride and when to stay home, tips on bike fashion no-no’s, and a really cool historical retelling of 19th century bicycling in New York. The book is a quick read, too, if you choose to forego the prerequisite 200 hours of film and television watching needed to get most of the cultural references the anonymous author loves to throw around. In fact, a majority of the book’s 239 pages are all but steeped in ’80s pop culture-driven analogies.
The author is a nameless blogger who calls himself “BikeSnobNYC,” also the blog’s title. (Even though his name will not be revealed until the official release of the book, and I’m working with a review copy where the author is now marked out in black Sharpie, I use “he” with utter confidence.) As with most blogs, journalism here is confused for the ability to master correct sentence structure coupled with a tendency towards mouthing off. Even with an ongoing column in Bicycling, as well as pieces in Outside and the New York Times, it’s safe to say Bike Snob is a little out of his element in print. And now that parts of the blog are a tangible commodity making a debut outside the safety of the non-discerning blogosphere, the writing is forced to stand up straight and face the standards of book-books.
And as with many bike-centric publications, Bike Snob is oversimplified, as if the world is not ready for reading about bikes. Much of it is written from the position of teacher or bicycle sage speaking to a novice, trying to convince them that bikes are great! However, the majority of the humor will be most appreciated by those who get the references to bike culture, people who’ve had encounters with the contraption captain or the irate auto driver and his horn. Yet, it is a double-edged sword in this way, as readers who are already familiar with the subject will continuously find themselves climbing over wordy buildups that lead to deflated revelations and newbie advice about bikes. Mr. Snob takes three pages, for example, to spit out the definition of a cyclist: “(1) a person who rides a bicycle even when he or she doesn’t have to; (2) a person who values the act of riding a bicycle over the tools one needs in order to do it.” Amazing.
Although the book does present some practical information, it is either buried among rants or the author’s childhood memories—not exactly easy to reference. Most of it is specific to New York City living, anyway. And the sparse maintenance tips in the back are purely for filling up space, as there would be absolutely no reason for someone who is in need of real maintenance advice to purchase this book for such minimal offerings that can be found a million other places for free.
Throughout the bulk of the book, sarcasm takes precedence over actual thinking. The author raises questions that tempt, but consistently deliver only shallow answers. “So, why ride?” He answers that bicycling can “pass the time and be enjoyable and fulfill a spiritual need and teach you about life—not to mention get you across town and whip your ass into shape.” More reasons are that “cyclists have double lives,” “supernatural powers,” and are “free from the rules of humanity.” Yes, BikeSnobNYC, cyclists can weave through traffic and don’t pay car insurance; thanks for the deft insight. Then he completely breezes over the whole environmental angle as a verifiable reason to ride a bicycle. “I stop short of thinking that cycling can actually save the world,” he admits. This is about the time he denounces The Righteous Cyclist, “who only rides a bike because it doesn’t use gas and is perceived as green. However, if something ‘greener’ comes along, who’s to say they won’t leave the rest of us behind.”
This is the saddest part of this book, which could have remained cool and untouched had it not ventured into the printed world, but now that it has used who knows how many trees, to insult bicycle activism, even if it arguably isn’t humanity’s sole environmental savior, is going too far. He boils down the advocacy of cycling to an unnecessary plight that he won’t take part in because he believes “change will come for cyclists the same way that it came for clothing,” meaning that society slowly progressed towards more casual attire, from suits and hats to T-shirts and sweat pants, as acceptable. “And we didn’t need a Martin Luther King, Jr. of T-shirts, either.” He simply forgets that behind the selling of automobiles and the building of 12-lane mega-highways that cut through bike-friendly streets and neighborhoods is a bloodstained and vicious ring of developers, auto industry mongrels, and a complicit government. He conveniently forgets that car dependence is manufactured in boardrooms before being force-fed to the public. He forgets, also, that biking wouldn’t be so esoteric and Copenhagen wouldn’t be so rarified and idolized if cities were built with bikes and pedestrians as a priority. The entire environmental issue is blatantly passed over and stripped of importance within the pages of this would-be velopedia.
On it goes, and with every chapter, without much critical engagement of symptomatic problems or attentive solutions. Chapter four, “Getting There By Bike,” has little to do with the practical title. Beginning with his childhood bike stories, the author ends with a recount of his bike getting jacked as a messenger. The next chapter, “Why is Everyone Trying to Kill Me,” presupposes advice for surviving on shared roads with a bike. It’s basically a parody of hostile motor vehicle operators and their air of entitlement, although SnobNYC hits the nail on the head at least once with his estimation that car drivers are very much “roaming around the countryside in bloated vehicles while masticating food and communicating via a series of monotone bleats.”
The chapter, “Corrosion of Conformity: Rules vs. Fashion,” is the book’s best in terms of the author’s astute ability to be insulting and intolerant. Of “urban cyclists,” he says, “when you ride around clutching your hot dog bars, you look like a kid on a Sit n’ Spin, or a grave digger leaning on the handle of a spade.” He goes on to claim that track bikes and brakeless bikes are only for messengers, an image stolen from them by posers. “No longer were brakeless riders a small minority who had as much control over a brakeless bike as it was possible to have,” he writes. “Suddenly, they were new riders on shiny track bikes with big, empty messenger bags who were having visible difficulty controlling their bicycles.”
Near the tail end of the book, the author points out how hipster cyclists laugh at roadies and their Lycra, but “fail to see the humor of their boutique clothes and color-coordinated track bikes.” Likewise, and unfortunately, BikeSnobNYC fails to see the humor in his blog being printed and bound with fancy graphic design and illustrations, which can never be covered by new posts or deleted later. He must also fail to see the humor in the fact that those he finds so loathsome, those who consume “bike culture” and make it trendy in one way or another, are probably his only hope for selling any copies of Bike Snob.
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