I'm a bit of a tightwad. A tiny bit scrooge-y, a touch stingy, perhaps even occasionally as they say in Yiddish, a schnorrer.
Or at least I am in the eyes of mainstream capitalist society. I don't have a car, I ride a bike and take the train, I live in a small apartment, I don't eat at expensive places, I repair my shoes, I pack my lunches for work and I buy most of my clothes when they're on sale. For many employed people in my country this is a life of some deprivation, and choosing to live this way is odd, even miserly.
Of course I don't feel like a tightwad, and I don't feel like I'm missing out on anything. I have the money I need for the things I really value - holidays, spending time with friends, good food, healthcare when I need it, gifts and support for friends and relatives - that I wouldn't have if I had a car that I upgraded every few years. Most importantly, I have the option of working part-time, something that the debt-ridden, new-phone-craving majority of my countrymen simply cannot countenance.
If this is being a tightwad, then I'm proudly among the tightest.
So, as you can imagine, I'm already pretty frugal. I've read books like Sharon Beder's Selling The Work Ethic, Tom Hodkinson's How to be Idle and Scott Pape's The Barefoot Investor and I've taken their lessons to heart, prioritising what I see as being important in life and cutting away much of the expensive keeping-up-appearances flim-flam of modern capitalist existence that I neither need or want.
As a result this book - The Art of Frugal Hedonism - was published a little late for me. Rowland and Grubb have written a fine book - one with a sense of humour and an engaging style that makes it a very easy read - but there's little in here that I haven't encountered elsewhere or already tried.
Buying secondhand, getting rid of your car, cooking at home more often, foraging for wild food (I have a mental map of all the feijoa and fig trees in my suburb that hang into alleyways), learning to fix your gear rather than discarding it- these are all sound practices essential to someone looking to pull their spending back. What they aren't is novel or unusual, as they are common ideas in most books on this topic.
With that said, there is much to recommend here. Rowland and Grubb focus on the magic moments in life where you can gain much pleasure and enjoyment without spending piles of money. They recommend home-cooked meals with friends, beers in the park, long walks with thermos's full of tea and many more frugal but life-enriching activities. This focus gives their book a feeling of fun and glee, the cheery side of being frugal rather than the grim budget-spreadsheets-and-expired-food-from-a-dumpster side of things. You'll read with a smile, as their genuine enjoyment of their chosen lifestyle is infectious.
As a primer for someone starting on the road of frugal living, someone looking to move away from wasting all their wages on stuff that doesn't make them happy, The Art of Frugal Hedonism is a great place to start, and if you want to explore further there is a comprehensive recommended reading list at the back of this book. For a more advanced practitioner of frugality Hodgkinson or Beder's books will more likely offer you information and ideas you haven't already encountered.