Adelle Waldman

So the good folks at Henry Holt and Co. are pushing The Love Affairs of Nathaniel P. as a book with “the most (frighteningly) realistic male character of 2013” at its center. It's a marketing move, I get that; I'm not knocking the wise choice of catering to machismo men and jilted women with the same book. Such a move can, however, make way for giving the Man-Hater's camp some fodder, so let me step up on my soapbox here for all to see and say “yes, Nathaniel Piven is certainly one show more very accurate sampling of a male character, but by no means does he embody the definition of male personality. Thank you.”

Nathaniel Piven is sort of a jerk, but I think that's giving him too much credit. I think I was supposed to walk away hating Nate more than I did, because, let's be “realistic” here, the girls climbing all over Nate weren't exactly not asking to have their hearts trampled on. Yes, Hannah was quite likable and I did feel bad for her, but it's almost as if she thought if she threw herself at Nate, he'd respect and love her. Ladies, sex does not equal love. Respect rarely comes from having sex with someone on a first (or second) date. But, I forget, I stepped off my soapbox in the first paragraph.

So, all that being said, the characters were very well written because Adelle Waldman really got into Nate's psyche. And she did a fabulous job of showing the other characters' sardonic perceptions through Nate's eyes. Nate suffers from a mental illness of some kind, but it is never presented as such; rather, his illness is seen as more of a gender issue. Clearly, the author wants you to believe that being a man is a mental... wait, no—forgot I wasn't going there again.

Okay, the book. So I liked the book (despite my aforementioned peeve), but my ability to enjoy it may have had something to do with the fact the whole thing felt more like satire, commenting on the publishing industry and the lives of the literati. And if that's the case, maybe Waldman isn't poking at me as a man, but at the industry in general. If so, I say game on; we all know everything we've ever heard about the unlikable chums in that group is true.

I can't help but wonder if I've just somehow proven that I, too, am like Nathaniel P. show less

I'm a fangirl of workplace novels, but it's a rare one that tells stories of blue and pink collar workers. This one, set in a fading big box store in a fading Catskill town, seems real in the most depressing sense: long hours, irregular schedules, difficult physical labor, lack of a union, no other jobs. The overnight "Movement Crew" unloads heavy boxes, sorts, and puts the incredible variety of items into their designated displays. As WalMart is mentioned as an actual worse workplace, and show more Amazon is blamed for their low wages, a reader might assume that the store is a Target. The author is totally invested in the nine members of Movement Crew and in their managers, all as pawns in the corporate game. When a well-like manager is moved to a more prosperous Connecticut location, an internal plot is hatched to ruin the promotion chance for a widely disliked micromanager. Each of the nine conspirators has a discouraging back story, including of lack of education, commission of petty crimes, and stasis. They all are vividly and empathetically portrayed as the "true Americans" that have come to be held in contempt as Trump-aligned, although there are no politics discussed, just ill fortune due to their inability to make any headway. This is as memorable a trip as the dustbowl depression journey of the Joad family. show less

Help Wanted is both funny and depressing. Both because it captures the good and the bad parts of the workplace. Funny because it captures the absurdity of it, sad because it details underemployment and poverty of people in the chase for the dollar by corporations.

This is a novel with an ensemble cast, all who work at Town Square, described as a bit more upmarket than Walmart, but a store that caters for all your needs, from socks to cat food and barbeque grills. Behind the wide range, the show more Movement (i.e. logistics) team is there in the very early morning to unload the trucks and put the stock out on the shelves. Those who work the line are there for a number of reasons, but all have complex histories and live on the edge of poverty. The company gives them minimum hours, cuts off their health insurance and asks them to work all-nighters in the lead up to a big visit from Corporate. Some have pride in what they do, other see it as a stepping stone to somewhere else. The story opens as store manager Big Will announces his transfer to a store in a more affluent area. The workers see this as an opportunity to ensure their new manager Amanda is promoted and get rid of her, while opening up an opportunity for one of them to get a promotion.

The story is told from the third person point of view of multiple characters, each of them revealing their struggle to keep their heads above water, whether it be a second job, living with family or studying. They have problems with family, organising child care and relationships. Most of them have a desire to make it to the next level, which is as far as they can go without finishing high school or going to college. The teamwork that Movement put in to ensure that Amanda receives the best feedback from the team is phenomenal, showing that they are a close team who know each other well. The aftermath also shows what can happen when a link in that team breaks, resulting in a fracturing of an efficient unit.

The story is grittily realistic, as people like Nicole, Diego, Callie and Travis ponder their futures – whether they will be stuck in this kind of job forever or whether they have realistic options to change their lives (although at what cost). Some people like Val, Diego, Travis and Raymond have ambitions to get the promotion, although these are gradually stripped away as unlikely. Amanda as the unlikeable manager was portrayed well – she’s awkward in a squeamish way and is clueless when it comes to reading the room. Big Will as manager is that bit too honest to be realistic, but the workers were more fun to read as they are not afraid to step out of line. It’s a fascinating read, but not a happy one as little changes for the workers while the management goes on a generally upward trajectory. Like the line they unload from, it just keeps coming.

http://samstillreading.wordpress.com show less

Well, that was unexpected. Despite numerous trustworthy people spruiking this book to me, I was unpersuaded. And then I started reading. And the first chapter was cringe inducing. "Justin, why do novelists insist," Justin asked himself, "on pretending that people call each other by their name every time they address a statement to someone?"

That was the last negative thought I had about the book. And I had to throw that one out the window, too, because the next time someone unnecessarily show more used a name was towards the end. That made it very clear that naming happened only when Nathaniel P. was extremely uncomfortable, feeling guilty, and trying to deflect that guilt. My bad.

Now, before I slaver on too much, know that this book is not for everyone. The Jane Austen comparisons seem entirely accurate, since Austen wasn't for everyone until her books had been marketed into the shape of an empire waist and a cravat: she was, and is, snarky, intellectual, ironic, and completely unwilling to let you think entirely well of any of her characters. Waldman is like that, and like Mary McCarthy, too. This is a wonderful thing. But if you really need a character who is always morally right and emotionally affecting, this is not the place. If you, as I do, think that books about dating are incredibly boring, this might not be the book for you, either.*

It is also deeply polemical and of/in tension with its moment. I found it productive, because I too am of/deeply in tension with this moment. Like Nate, I grew up into male feminism. Like Nate, I am deeply impressed with my own intellect. And Waldman achieves what a million blogs cannot, viz., forces young men such as myself to think through our commitments to gender equality. I like to think I come through not too bad. Maybe a 7/10. "Should try harder," writes my teacher.

But the real target of the book are those men and women who are failing; who don't just need to try harder--they (we?) need to completely rethink the way we approach political issues, and alter our habits. To put it a bit too glibly, Nate says all the right things, would never utter a sexist statement, would never have a sexist thought that he didn't immediately correct, but is still morally repulsive, because he's incapable of linking his political/social conscience to his personal conduct. Nate is a male feminist. He is also a prick. Not amount of literary-world writing and conversation will change that. If the book was really up to date, Nate would have been writing for websites about privilege, issuing meae culpae at every turn, apologizing for his skin color and genitalia. And he would still be a prick. Because language is not deeds.

Also, I want to re-read the thing. I want to be hang out with the characters again. I want to share a beer with Hannah while she talk shit about Nate, and another one with Aurit (which I just realized I can do thanks to the ambivalent wonders of Kindle), and another one with Jason and then talk shit about Jason with someone else etc... This is noteworthy because I don't care at all about this kind of thing, in general. But Waldman made it work for me. Again, see caveat about this not being true for everyone.

* Part of the excellence of LANP is that Waldman treats issues like this in the text, so you (I) have to think about why I'm not usually impressed by books about dating (or, more generally, love). Am I, like Nathaniel, writing off personal experiences like this because I'm a closet misogynist? I hope not. In any case, the novel's reflexivity is very welcome, and another mark in its favor. show less