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3.18 AVERAGE
3.18 AVERAGE
There are not many times that I've had an emotional reaction to a book like this one. I kept changing sides on just how I felt about it, one minute getting very upset at what felt like cheap shots at my gender, the next admiring a portrayal of the simple deception of a male mind at work, the next peevishly setting my nook down and muttering "Dammit, that's low. But, true." While there is no way for me to really connect completely with this novel (You'd have to be a writer and/or live in New York for that), I think this is a pretty good look at how (some) modern males go through dating. And the main character, Nate, feels like an a-hole, but not one you would imprint as such right away. He feels like one of those guys who, the first time you meet him (male or female), you thinks he's great, but slowly that high opinion gets eroded as his facade, and interest in what you think, fades away. The only complaint I have with the book is that Hannah, Nate's girlfriend through most of the book, seems like she is a little too innocently presented. That was my biggest struggle with the book, she does nothing to deserve the crap unloaded on her by Nate, and I'm not sure if Waldman does that on purpose to make sure that, at the end, your alliance is on the preferred side. To be fair, Waldman doesn't portray all the females in the book like that. As you learn more about the women in Nate's past, roads get connected, lights turn on, and you start to realize why he is how he is. And when he finally ends up with a much more attractive, and emotionally combative partner, that does seem like where he should have been the whole time. I read this book quickly, and since finishing a couple of days ago, have not stopped pondering why it got under my skin. It may just be an instinctual reaction to an attack on my team. It could be that Waldman is actually being unfair, loading the decks before the game. But I love how much this book made me question every little moment for what it meant. It's not a comforting read, but a worthy one, certainly.
Entitled, pretentious, not well-paced, and anticlimactic.
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
I gave this three stars, but it's more like 4 +- 1. As a couple character studies thrown tied together it was occasionally brilliant and terrifyingly perceptive, as a novel about human beings, it didn't really work.
The plot can basically be summarized as young writer in Brooklyn has a bad relationship because even though he tries not to be, he is kind of a dick. But beyond that, it is really good about inner monologues and thought processes and the general experience of being a sensitive intellectual liberal new york male type person. Sometimes Mr. P. is super perceptive and thoughtful and sometimes he is just totally self absorbed and oblivious. I guess that is true of a lot of people, but he was really oblivious at really really annoying times.
Also, the ending (no spoilers) drove me nuts.
The sentence about who calls people philistines any more struck a little too close to home.
The plot can basically be summarized as young writer in Brooklyn has a bad relationship because even though he tries not to be, he is kind of a dick. But beyond that, it is really good about inner monologues and thought processes and the general experience of being a sensitive intellectual liberal new york male type person. Sometimes Mr. P. is super perceptive and thoughtful and sometimes he is just totally self absorbed and oblivious. I guess that is true of a lot of people, but he was really oblivious at really really annoying times.
Also, the ending (no spoilers) drove me nuts.
The sentence about who calls people philistines any more struck a little too close to home.
Liked it, didn't love it. I found it to be impressively truthful. Maybe it felt like a lot of people I know, but I had a hard time really caring bc the world felt really small.
I liked the author’s writing, just didn’t like what she chose to write about. I’ve got enough male lens.
Lived up to all the rave reviews- easily see myself re-reading this book, which I never do.
I couldn't put this book down. The dialogue, the characters' mannerisms, and body language were so realistic. I normally don't love a book if I don't fall in love with the protagonist, but this was an exception. I found Nate to immature and grating yet Waldman helped me understand him, which allowed me to tolerate him. I adored Hannah.
This would be a perfect book to take on vacation.
I am looking forward to reading more from Waldman.
SPOILER ALERT: I was a little disappointed that Nate never changed or developed a degree of self-awareness. That said, I did like the ending.
This would be a perfect book to take on vacation.
I am looking forward to reading more from Waldman.
SPOILER ALERT: I was a little disappointed that Nate never changed or developed a degree of self-awareness. That said, I did like the ending.
The more I think about this book, the less I like it.
It's not the writing. Waldman has clearly represented her craft in numerous articles and essays, and the prose here is realized and eloquent. Various references to ideas and literary influences abound.
It's the plot. Here, Waldman writes from the perspective of an unlikeable male protagonist, one whose thoughts are derived not so much out of disdain, but apathy. Here described is a modern relationship: Two people like each other well enough, but something goes wrong. What exactly? We're not sure. It's not your star crossed lovers tale or an epic story, so much as the picture of a 'meh, fuck you too' miscommunication that ends without losing much. Waldman provokes the ideas of what makes male serial daters misogynists, and addresses several observations about dating and the contemporary man and woman. But she never answers them, and there's not enough here to start a real discussion.
Trying to piece together any substantial thought about this, I feel a bit like Nate staring into his email: apathetic.
There really is something odd about writers writing about borderline autobiographical writers, too. Is this a specified genre yet?
It's not the writing. Waldman has clearly represented her craft in numerous articles and essays, and the prose here is realized and eloquent. Various references to ideas and literary influences abound.
It's the plot. Here, Waldman writes from the perspective of an unlikeable male protagonist, one whose thoughts are derived not so much out of disdain, but apathy. Here described is a modern relationship: Two people like each other well enough, but something goes wrong. What exactly? We're not sure. It's not your star crossed lovers tale or an epic story, so much as the picture of a 'meh, fuck you too' miscommunication that ends without losing much. Waldman provokes the ideas of what makes male serial daters misogynists, and addresses several observations about dating and the contemporary man and woman. But she never answers them, and there's not enough here to start a real discussion.
Trying to piece together any substantial thought about this, I feel a bit like Nate staring into his email: apathetic.
There really is something odd about writers writing about borderline autobiographical writers, too. Is this a specified genre yet?