Whoever said the mind of guy is simple, should very well give a read at Adelle Waldman’s first novel, The Love Affairs of Nathaniel P.
Having decided to take a break from the fast paced psychological terror of my usual suspects such as Stephen King and Gillian Flynn, I decided to take a look at the book everyone was talking (and tweeting) about.
Guilty as charged for judging a book by it’s cover, this novel, named one of the best books of 2013 by The New Yorker, can be deceptive at it’s first glance.
The title as well as the fun and modern looking cover art, can suggest that the book will be a light romantic comedy, episodically told, as our hero, Nathaniel, goes from woman to woman.
Could this be an attempt to flip the coin of an unnecessarily hyped Sex and the City, or a comment on it’s progenies like Lena Dunham’s GIRLS?
Fortunately, I was relieved to find out, neither of my guesses were correct.
The book starts where you would hardly expect it to begin.
Nathaniel is already late for a dinner party at his ex-girlfriend's, when he abruptly bumps into what we quickly know is an old flame.
The conversation is minimal, and results on her telling our hero “You’re an asshole”.
There’s a good start.
From then on, Nathaniel meets his friends -All newly successful New York that are more often than not a bit too full of themselves- and meets Hannah. A friendly, attractive girl to whom Nathaniel takes an immediate interest.
The book from then on focuses on the progression of Nathaniel and Hannah going from friendly, to casually dating, to having a "more serious relationship".
The stakes inevitably begin to rise, despite the fact that there is no other guy, or other woman for that matter. No annoying parents or massive economic or cultural differences that will put in danger the character’s relationship.
The problem, and conflict of the book, is Nathaniel P. Himself.
Waldman can take true pride in knowing how to get inside the mind of the character and narrate with exquisite timing his ego and self worth as well as his insecurities, fears and confused emotions.
Being a guy who also happens to know what dating other guys is like, I found myself experiencing a roller coaster of extreme reactions, not unlike the emotional journey the protagonist himself has.
Nathaniel’s fleeting and volatile emotions towards the relationship versus how he acts upon them found me feeling infuriated with him, while also feeling terrified at just how much I identified with the parts I most hated about him.
The author’s complete and utter understanding of her main character’s physique lets the reader sit comfortably in the therapists chair, allowing a complete and complex analysis on his neurosis. This results on an inherent lack of surprise at how the plot unfolds, however this doesn’t make it any less interesting or satisfying.
The reason why the plot is at times predictable is because in fact very little actually happens during the book.
The novel's realism doesn’t give a lot of space for actions to be front and centre.
The reader will hardly care about the characters staying together or splitting up, mainly because the relationship itself is incredibly ambiguous. What the book actually focuses on and where the entire character arc takes place, is inside our hero’s head.
That being said, the book -as any relationship- is not without it’s annoying traits.
As Nathaniel himself talks about having an inherent guilt towards issues such as poverty and social inequality, Waldman also seems to be irritably apologetic about the novel’s plot, that -some could say- is full of first world problems or as one of the character's describes it "Girl Stuff".
The book can spend a good 25 pages analysing the character’s feelings and emotions as well as the rising problems of the relationship, and then, out of nowhere the narrative takes a turn both in tone and content talking about “serious” and “real” issues, like slavery, minimum wage and poverty.
While the main character can have incredibly deep and complex emotions, and there are times where the book is close to bringing a tear to your eye, the characters then have conversations that seem over intellectualised. They talk to each other in a cold and detached manor that can almost remind you a Bret Easton Ellis novel. This back and forth can be frustrating at times, as the book can’t seem to stay in the same tone without feeling ashamed of it’s own content.
Be that as it may, the merit of the book is that Waldman has succeeded in creating an incredibly real man; so much that at times I found it hard to believe this was actually written by a woman.
Her efforts of understanding the male psyche in the context of love and sex have truly paid off. Nathaniel is real. I’ve been Nathaniel. And I've definitely dated a bunch of Nathaniels.
For all the good, and all the bad.
Waldman’s style is to create incredibly ambiguous scenarios that are perfectly crafted so that the reader can ponder over them and get his or her own very personal conclusion.
The only thing you’re left with, at the end, is a dyer need for a sequel.
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