Football: For those of us who love football, who measure the progress of our lives in four-year units marked by World Cups, it is self-evident that the sport is important - anything that inspires and captivates millions of people all over the world is undoubtedly that.
However, and this is the tough part, we also have to grudgingly admit that the game doesn't actually mean anything, because it ultimately doesn't matter whether Brazil wins the tournament or Togo does.
The Thinking Fan's Guide to the World Cup appears to be aimed at people who feel a vague sense of guilt about being so emotionally invested in something that is - finally - frivolous. Edited by Matt Weiland and Sean Wilsey, of Granta and McSweeney's publishers respectively, the book has a simple and intriguing conceit - 32 novelists, journalists and playwrights contribute a chapter on each of the World Cup finalists, from Angola to the US. The pieces aren't necessarily about football specifically, but range from personal anecdotes to history lessons, and the contributors don't have to be native to the country they are writing about, so while we have, for instance, Dave Eggers on the US and Nick Hornby on England, we also have Eric Schlosser on Sweden and Caryl Phillips on Ghana. (Inevitably, Roddy Doyle was pencilled in to do the Irish chapter in the event of our qualification.)
If The Thinking Fan's Guide . . . were a World Cup, however, it would be USA 1994 - a number of exciting moments, some great individual performances, diverting while it's going on, but ultimately lacking true quality. Both Weiland and Wilsey are Americans, and like the 1994 tournament, there is a feeling it's all for the benefit of novice fans.
Some of the writers are obviously uninformed about the game, Swiss writer Peter Stamm even admitting to having only ever watched one match. Many chapters are completely unrelated to football, but then feel obliged to shoehorn in a tenuous reference. The worst example is William Finnegan's chapter on Portugal, a lengthy essay on surfing in Madeira, which briefly mentions that Cristiano Ronaldo is from there.
There are plenty of fan's-perspective pieces of varying quality. Hornby's contribution is like Paul Gascoigne in his late career, flabby and full of ideas that he doesn't bother developing. Much better is Tim Parks's account of watching Italy get to the final in 1994 with his in-laws. So beautifully drawn and richly detailed is his depiction of Pescara's noisy beaches that you almost feel the need to apply suntan lotion and find some shade.
Most perceptive, however, is John Lanchester on Brazil. Lanchester is apparently the only writer of the 32 who has experience as a sports journalist (is that an implication that sports writers would be unable to connect with "thinking fans"?), and it shows. "Most football writing is about being a fan," he writes. "That, I think, is because football is difficult to describe. Its texture is elusive and words make a poor fit with the game's graces and beauty."
That grace and beauty is, unfortunately, almost entirely absent from this book. Instead, this guide merely proves that football is resistant to intellectual interpretation. You can draw comparisons between national playing styles and national stereotypes all you want - and many of the writers here do - but it will get you no closer to understanding the game. Football can't be analysed as literature or cinema can, it can only truly be appreciated when watched and played. That is the genius of it, and you don't need to be a thinking fan to know that.
Davin O'Dwyer is a freelance journalist. He will be supporting Poland in the World Cup
The Thinking Fan's Guide to the World Cup Edited by Matt Weiland and Sean Wilsey Abacus, 416pp. £9.99