From acclaimed, Whiting Award-winning author Teddy Wayne, comes the hilarious, incisive, yet deeply poignant story of a liberal armchair-revolutionary desperate to save America from itself.
Paul is a recently demoted adjunct instructor of freshman comp, a divorced but doting Brooklyn father, and a self-described “curmudgeonly crank” cataloging his resentment of the priorities of modern life in a book called The Luddite Manifesto. Outraged by the authoritarian creeps ruining the country, he is determined to better the future for his young daughter, one aggrieved lecture at a time.
Shockingly, others aren’t very receptive to Paul’s scoldings. His child grows distant, preferring superficial entertainment to her father’s terrarium and anti-technological tutelage. His careerist students are less interested than ever in what he has to say, and his last remaining friends appear ready to ditch him. To make up for lost income, he moonlights as a ride-share driver and moves in with his elderly mother, whose third-act changes confound and upset him. As one indignity follows the next, and Paul’s disaffection with his circumstances and society mounts, he concocts a dramatic plan to right the world’s wrongs and give himself a more significant place in it.
Dyspeptically funny, bubbling over with insights into America’s cultural landscape and a certain type of cast-aside man who wants to rectify it, The Great Man Theory is the work of a brilliant, original writer at the height of his powers.
Teddy Wayne is the author of the novels "The Au Pair" (2026), "The Winner" (2024), "The Great Man Theory" (2022), "Apartment" (2020), "Loner" (2016), "The Love Song of Jonny Valentine" (2013) and "Kapitoil" (2010) and is the recipient of a Whiting Writers' Award, an NEA Creative Writing Fellowship, the PEN/Robert W. Bingham Prize runner-up, and a finalist for the Young Lions Fiction Award finalist and the Dayton Literary Peace Prize.
Here's Paul, an unsuccessful writer, staring down fifty, and now working as a lowly adjunct professor. He's poorly paid, with no health insurance, a weekend dad to an increasingly distant eleven-year-old daughter. His reduced circumstances have forced him to move in with his elderly mother, who's now a dedicated viewer of Fabricated Fax News. Could things get any worse?
Oh, yeah.
Things are about to get plenty worse.
Thomas Carlyle wrote about 'the great man theory' in 1840: Certain strong, virtuous, and courageous individuals are the ones who shape history.
Paul is at least one of those things. Paul is also a man with more to gain than lose.
Could he be the Great Man we need who will save us all?
This one just bowled me over. All of it. I can't exactly say I liked Paul, but I felt for him, particularly the bit about his daughter's disastrous birthday party where EVERYTHING went wrong. He's an amazingly complex character. This may not be the best book of the year, but it's definitely my favorite so far.
Teddy Wayne’s characters always seem to fall a hair short of representing perfectly average people.
They’re typically great at passing for them though, if only for a few introductory chapters. As their public persona wears off, we’re left only with their private thoughts, slowly taking stock of the damage; it’s a curious reveal and a fun ride, every time. I end up picking up Teddy Wayne novels like I would a ticket to a different kind of lottery, a draw with a most unconventional prize: what new oddball will I be meeting today?
And today, I got Paul. A disillusioned, middle-aged adjunct professor and a separated father, Paul brims with ideas about what’s wrong with today’s society. As he takes it upon himself to right a few wrongs, his ego gets buffeted by various blows along the way, yet Paul perseveres.
While I find the novel dragged a bit this time around - and The Great Man Theory really did get caught up in the intricacies of its own plot, for a while - the usual wit is on hand to make this Teddy Wayne book the kindhearted tale of a loser, once again.
I’ve been debating whether the ending was a happy one ever since I finished the book. I haven’t reached a conclusion yet.
Paul is a middle-aged, liberal, disenchanted Brooklyn white man, a contributing writer to obscure literary periodicals, and a professor recently demoted from senior lecturer to adjunct instructor at the third-rate college he hoped to be on tenure track for by now. Divorced, with a tween daughter, Mabel, he notices that his “little dumpling” is increasingly indifferent toward him, and allied with her mother and wealthy modern stepfather. Paul is hoping that, when he finishes and publishes his work-in-progress book, The Luddite Manifesto, that his life will flourish, money struggles will disappear, and Mabel will approve of him again. In the meantime, with his salary halved, he takes on a second job as an Uber-type driver and moves in with his widowed mother in Riverdale. He tries to stay optimistic, but life keeps taking pot shots at him. He’s still determined to redeem himself in Mabel’s eyes and gain a reputation as a best-selling writer (or at least, a critically acclaimed one).
Despite Paul’s glum, disgruntled outlook, he possesses a perseverance that drives him ahead, including his hatred for the twice-impeached disgraced ex-president—who, at the time of the novel, is the current president. (As much as he hates #45, he shares a bit of his malcontent nature, in my view.) When circumstances create a chance meeting with a comely producer of a Conservative TV show (it is an agile simulacrum of Fox and its most toxic, prevaricating male host), Paul decides to explore and exploit the benefits of his new and blossoming affair. (But, to me, the least credible content of the novel.
Teddy Wayne’s prose is both muscular and active, immersive from the first page to the ineluctable finish. And, OK, it takes no prisoners of the MAGA cult, but it derides blind, knee-jerk liberals, also. It’s not even that politicians are all hacks, but that media and politics brew hot, venomous stew. On a personal level, it’s a misguided father who loves his daughter beyond reason. Moreover, it shows how even a 46- year-old progressive thinker can still be wildly out of step with what feminism means today, or optics. The climax, to a degree, is foreshadowed, but that doesn’t make it any less entertaining. You’ve seen versions of this plot before, but Wayne’s narrative is powerful and proven, not trite and stale. Witty and dramatic. Also a quick read.
“What will happen—
“—is what we believe will happen. This chapter of history is ugly, but the next one is still unwritten. If we lose hope, we lose. If we think we can win, we will. Cynicism and idealism are both self-fulfilling prophecies.”
Thank you to Bloomsbury for sending me an ARC for review.
If you believe that a certain hate-spouting and morally bankrupt ex-president is the pinnacle of what our country has to offer, you may as well stop reading right here. You’re not going to like Paul, a progressive Luddite who has just been demoted to adjunct professor (translated: no health insurance) and who bumbles his way forward in his relationship with his increasingly skeptical pre-teen daughter, Mabel.
For the rest of us, this is a page-turning, unputdownable book that had me alternating between laughing out loud and sighing with recognition of how far we’ve descended.
You’ve probably met someone like Paul before. He’s the guy who reminds you of software that hasn’t been upgraded in decades. He proudly displays his folding phone and has only condescension for influencers who count their “likes” on Instagram as a crowning accomplishment. He’ll bore you to death trying to “educate” you about all the ways we are turning into an authoritarian and self-destructive dynasty without really offering solutions on what to do. Just when you want to ring his neck, he’ll do something loveable although misguided.
Paul believes in the great man theory of one person shaping history. He believes that during this time period, we are dealing with one awful man who is actually deforming history. And he thinks that by writing his Luddite Manifesto, maybe, just maybe, he can make things right.
Within this framework, there are split-your-side-laughing scenes of his daughter’s birthday party with liberal mothers refusing to let their 11-year-olds ride in the front seat and gluten-intolerant girls who get deathly ill if they have even an iota of gluten. There are students at the college he’s teaching at who elect to read dumbed-down blogs in lieu of anything that can actually teach them anything literary. And of course, there are the trigger warnings to not dare teach anything that a marginalized student might possibly be disturbed by. There is his octogenarian mother who secretly watches the Mackey Show (think: Fucker Carlson).
There’s also honest-to-god pathos: the inability of so many to get health insurance, the allure of iPads and iPhones and social media that hinder real connections, the socioeconomic chasm, and saddest of all, the disintegration of our ability to understand the right thing to do. When Paul meets one of Mackey’s key people, whom he wants to woo to get his moment of glory on the show, things head south fast.
At times, I thought the relationship was a stretch, which brings my rating to 4.5, rounded up. The bottom line is, I enjoyed every minute reading this latest book by a writer I already admire Thanks to Bloomsbury for enabling me to be an early reader in exchange for an honest review.
I don't know how Teddy Wayne does it. He's quickly becoming one of my favorite authors. I bawled like a little baby with his previous novel, Apartment - and this time around he made my jaw drop with "The Great Man Theory". I swear the last 10% of this novel made my pulse quicken. Wow. Teddy Wayne is such a wordsmith. His prose is stunning, lyrical, wordy, poignant, and hilarious. He makes me feel so many different things. He truly is a gifted and brilliant writer.
Paul is such an unlikeable character, and yet I couldn't help but feel empathy for him. Probably because he shares a lot of my political views. He's basically a lost soul. Paul is socially awkward, opinionated, and deeply troubled. The thing you will love about him though is his adoration for his preteen daughter, Mabel. Paul feels that Mabel is pulling away from him, and he's also not happy being demoted from his teaching job; and being forced to move in with his politically conservative mother to save a buck. Paul's life is falling apart. Slowly but surely, Paul begins to crack under the pressure of a world he's longer recognizes.
What makes this a great novel is that it's memorable. It's so unique and heart-pounding. It's smart and emotionally rewarding. The slumber party scene was my favorite. You could really feel Mabel's frustration/pity towards her father. Very relatable. Teddy Wayne is the real deal. His commentary about society as a whole is always spot-on. Highly recommended!
Thank you, Netgalley and Bloomsbury for the digital ARC.
A story about Paul, an overzealous left wing college professor who shares custody of his 11 going on 30 daughter, Mabel. A failure at being published, he struggles to pay bills, keep his daughter happy and goes into a downward spiral that's depressing.
It's obvious the plot is personal at some level and the author is an anti Trumper, though steers clear of using his name. Overall, it mediocre and predictable. Enough said
I don’t know if my review can do this book justice – The Great Man Theory deserves…well, greatness. I’ll give it a try anyway. This is my third read by the author and I would consider myself a fan, but this book was by far the best out of three. Not only that, it was by far one of the best books I’ve read in a while, which considering how many books I plow through, is really something. Granted, I’ve been reading lots of genre fiction lately and the sheer difference of spending time with a proper work of literature was a joy in itself, but it was a joy very specific to this book; a book so clever, so timely, so stunningly well written that it does that unicorn thing that most authors set out to do and few succeed at – it actually puts you, the reader, inside someone’s mind, inside someone’s life. Meet Paul. A man out of time, a staunchly anachronistic professor of English, a proud Luddite, a sometime writer of essays, a divorced father of a young girl. Paul had recently hit the official middle-age marker and, at 46, doesn’t have much to show for himself, but a semi-comfortable rented existence. And outrage. Like many Brooklyn liberals of a certain age, Paul is potently outraged by the 44th’s administration, appalled at the direction the country has taken, dismayed with its ever-declining values and morals and so on. It isn’t just the politics, it’s also the new generations that Paul valiantly tries to teach, it’s also the new technology that Paul valiantly tries to avoid…but mostly, it’s politics. And, because Paul is Brooklyn liberal of a certain age, his rage is impotent and muted. He writes about it, but his words don’t travel far. And so, like most rage, it becomes a simmered toxic stew that slowly poisons him. To exacerbate the situation, Paul’s circumstances are rapidly tumbling down – he gets cut down at work, he has to move in with his mother who turns out to be livelier and more opinionated than he remembered, his daughter is aging out of the adorable kid he knows what to do with into a moody complicated pre-teen. All of this precipitates Paul’s slow but inextricable tumble down and circumvention of his principles – soon enough, he’s got a smart phone, he becomes an unwilling participate in gig economy to supplement his income, he begins dating for ulterior motives and writing posts online. Paul is spiraling. Soon enough, Paul’s in a freefall. Let’s pause and consider for a second the sheer courage it must have taken to write a book about a plight of a first world middle-aged white man in this day and age. Bravo, Mr. Wayne. Way to subvert expectations. But seriously, is this one going to be ripped apart much like Paul’s frequent and failed efforts at political correctness and staying hip to the times? One hopes not. And to be fair, Paul isn’t exactly a flawless lead, in fact it is his manifold flaws that make him such and interesting and compelling character. He isn’t good at life, he admits as much himself. Which, for all his faults, is as relatable of a reveal as a character can make. He tries and tries, tirelessly at times, and it seldom proves good enough. To hold on to one’s morals in an amoral world, to maintain a financial solvency in a society of Mammon devotees (in one of the most expensive cities in the world, no less), to strive for life of meaning, intelligent discourse, values…it’s admirable. It’s also a sure way to live a life steeped in disappointment. And as Paul further and further compromises all he stands for, he reveals sides of himself that are ugly – he’s hypocritical, intolerant, tediously sanctimonious. He doesn’t really see or understand too far outside of himself. He doesn’t authentically relate well to others. He’s passive, all talk, fairly useless. Flaws, flaws, flaws. His trajectory is tragic and the ending is appropriately perfect in reflecting it for this, above all, is a story about a reasonably good man driven mad by the world around him. A man who wasn’t good at life. (If this world isn't riving you mad, you're not paying enough attention.) All I love in fiction is here in this book - it’s magnetic, difficult to put down, it’s eloquent, linguistically elegant, a virtuoso rendering of a man who (as much as he is out of time) is very much of his time. Great read. Recommended. Thanks Netgalley.
As I sit here to type this review I can't help but be reminded of Paul's RealNews comments, aren't we all just chasing clout online after all even if we don't care to admit it? I thoroughly enjoyed reading this novel despite what I thought felt like a rushed messy ending. No other contemporary author knows how to write envy/jealousy quite like Teddy. As in his other two novels that I've read, Apartment and Loner, he takes immense pleasure in humiliating his male protagonist that you just sit there as you turn page after page and wonder how wrong could it go for them? (spoiler: very wrong). Despite that, and immensely enjoyable as it was to read, I feel like this one is one of his weaker outings. I feel this story would've been better served with a less dramatic/action-packed ending.
I'm surprising myself by giving this five stars, but it was SO GOOD. This is like watching a well-written car crash, a perfect combination of satire and cringe, culminating in an edge-of-your-seat twist.
The book follows Paul, a man you've certainly met before: he's a divorced writer and academic on the lowest rung of a mid-tier college's totem pole. He's writing a book he hopes will skyrocket him to fame - "The Luddite Manifesto" - and is one of those white male liberals who hates Trump and Republicans, but also believes that technology, political correctness, and snowflake Gen Z-ers are ruining the world. You watch his life crumble further and further, starting with his demotion from senior lecturer to visiting adjunct and going downhill from there.
The writing is what you will stay for. There is plot - and the ending is excellent - but Teddy Wayne completely nails the detestable, holier-than-thou, sad sack personality of his main character, also adding in sharp observations about the world from Paul's perspective and how others see Paul. Highly, highly recommend this - and I'll certainly be picking up other titles on Teddy Wayne's backlist to get more of this fantastic writing. Thank you to Dreamscape for the audio ARC via Netgalley.
Looking back, I realize I gave two of Teddy Wayne's previous novels ("The Love Song of Johnny Valentine" and "Loner") three-star reviews, but the fact is, I remember a lot about both of those novels and their narrators, years after I read them, which really ought to mean they should have been four-star reviews. If they stick, they stick.
I suspect months and years from now I will occasionally think of poor, self-absorbed Paul, the sorry protagonist in "The Great Man Theory," living in resentful contempt of the world around him, aghast at the techno renaissance that is reshaping human behavior (including that of Paul's increasingly distant tweenage daughter) and the hideousness of 21st-century politics and misinfo machines. Yet, of course, as a Brooklyn academic, he is certain his resistance is the right course, even as it sends him on an irreversible downward spiral. There's a lot to unpack here, through the eyes of a deeply unsympathetic character, and Teddy Wayne is so, so good at these complicated inner portraits.
Other Goodreads commenters have noted the irony here: We all leave these pithy (sometimes brilliant!) reviews of books we've read, delighted if anyone clicks like on them, etc. Paul would totally partake in this, had he stumbled upon it as a social media latecomer, while bemoaning the fact that people once just read books and talked about them with others when and if it ever came up. Are we better off for this or worse? (I for one enjoy the exercise and keeping track of what I've read. But it is, admittedly, all part of the personal creation, branding, submitting to the machine.)
Paul, a 42-year-old New York college teacher, is having a tough time. He’s been told that due to budget cuts he’s to be demoted to adjunct status, thus reducing his pay and removing his health plan. On top of this, he’s estranged from his wife and is struggling with his daughter, who these days seems to be closer to her stepfather than he. He’s also struggling to find a publisher for the intense, scholarly essays he writes. The one bright spot in his life is that he has a book deal for a project he’s working on in his spare time, entitled The Luddite Manifesto. But then even this comes under threat.
This left-leaning academic has an intense dislike for his country’s President (clearly Trump, although he’s not actually named). He’s scoffing Adderall to help him burn the midnight oil in an attempt to finish his book, and at the same time he’s dating a media professional in an attempt to scam his way onto a television chat show hosted by Tucker Carlson-like figure.
It’s sharp, funny, often insightful and demonstrates a haughty disregard for anyone lacking higher education. I really enjoyed it, as I have all of Wayne’s novels. I’m just slightly disappointed by the somewhat cataclysmic ending.
My main takeaway from reading this book: Teddy Wayne can really write! I've read two of his previous novels and really liked both of them. This one maxed out the cringe factor on the main character: a "progressive" teacher at a mid-level college. Maxed it out to the point of near farce, but that didn't prevent me from being drawn into his paranoid fever dream.
This one was too much, but even still I kinda liked it.
I have no idea if Teddy Wayne had Ignatius Reilly - the pugnacious protagonist of the classic novel A Confederacy of Dunces - in mind as he penned his character Paul in his new novel The Great Man Theory. But if he did, he nailed it! Paul is a middle-aged, divorced dad, Brooklyn writer living with his mother who is constantly upset with the state of the world and beyond befuddled that the world doesn't appreciate his brilliance.
But here's the surprise: Paul is a little bit all of us. Paul is sure social media is destroying society. Paul has trouble understanding why his passion projects -- in his case, long-form articles about really obscure subjects published in academic journals -- aren't more widely read and respected. But mostly, Paul can't understand how so many people in this supposedly enlightened country can go along with the machinations of the orange fiend in the White House. (Yes, it's 2018 or so, and the Cheeto-faced Shitgibbon is at the height of his manipulative powers.)
And now, Paul discovers his own mother -- he had to move in with her after he was denied tenure and then got demoted from his university teaching job -- is a fan of Colin Mackey, the blustery anchor on a nightly news show bearing no accidental resemblance to Sean Hannity and Fox News.
But Paul has a plan to solve all these problems. He's currently working on a book titled The Luddite's Manifesto that will set the set the world straight and vault him to cultural prominence and wealth beyond his wildest dreams.
It's pretty laughable of course, but let's let Paul/Ignatius have his dream because despite all this, we somehow manage to feel for Paul, a little bit. He is losing touch with his 11-year-old daughter who he only gets to see on weekend (part of the reason for this is that he constantly explains the world to her in the most condescending terms, and she recognizes his life as sad). But he really does love her and really strives to be a good parent.
Eventually, as is inevitable, Paul hits rock bottom and has a moment of clarity. What is he really doing to help the declining state of society? What can he do? Can he do more?
There are few "plot twists" in this novel that make you go "huh?" But on the whole, this is a really fun read. Paul is exasperating for sure! But do you root for him? Sometimes it's hard to tell if you should. Paul, in addition to standing in as a modern-day Ignatius Reilly, is also the guy in the classic Onion article, "Area Man Accepts Burden Of Being Only Person On Earth Who Understands How World Actually Works."
Like Paul, the protagonist of this novel, I’m a proud Luddite. Also like him, I keep seeking ways to save the world through political activism. So I probably hoped for too much from this book. It’s not a bad read, but it has a couple of disturbing weaknesses.
First, the good news: The book poses a crucial question that’s rarely found in a political novel: What is an individual’s responsibility to make the world better?
Paul, is a 46-year-old, divorced, recently-demoted adjunct writing instructor and technophobe whose financial situation has become so dire that he moves in with his widowed mother in the Bronx and begins driving for a ride-sharing service to earn a few more dollars. He has pinned most of his dreams on the book he is writing, entitled “The Luddite Manifesto.” When it’s published, he tells himself, this manifesto will open millions of eyes to the evils of smartphones, the Internet, social media, and other modern technology. Meanwhile, he constantly harangues his 11-year-old daughter, his two remaining friends, his students, his department chair, his (few) dates, and his mother about these themes. Yet Paul is finding himself becoming addicted to the same social media he disdains.
As every underpinning of his life crumbles, Paul decides to take a risk that is totally out of character. He concocts an unlikely plot to date a senior producer for a Tucker Carlson-type TV commentator in order to get invited onto the show as an expert on the gig economy, then stun the audience with a brilliant, left-wing diatribe that would demolish the commentator’s lies.
Paul is – I assume intentionally -- annoying, self-righteous, whiny, and essentially unlikable. That’s okay, although it makes the reading difficult. The real problem is that his cluelessness isn’t believable. To give one example: Since he’s neither stupid nor politically unaware, Paul surely would realize that his invitation to a young female student to work on her essay in his car with him, alone in a dark parking garage, might be considered sexual harassment.
The plot really takes off in the final 40 pages, like the kind of thriller Paul never would read or write. (Please see my longer review in The New York Journal of Books https://www.nyjournalofbooks.com/book...)
This reminded me a bit of a modern day Stoner, albeit with a much more aggressive and outspoken main character and a lot of political thoughts thrown in. But if he doesn't fix it, who will? I really enjoyed this. I both disliked and felt pity for Paul. I could see his good traits and compassion, and his clouded judgment and narrow perspective. I agreed with a lot of Paul's opinions, and heavily disagreed with a lot of them as well. I liked that we can all see a bit of ourselves and society within him, but his extreme reactions and behaviors are what sets him apart. Definitely going to read more Teddy Wayne after this one!
I received an ARC of this book from the publisher. I've never read Wayne's work before, but the writing style was quite lovely. Conversational and slightly sardonic. Overall, it was a nice little novel, though I am wholly sick of hearing people talk about the orange buffoon in any context and that was a bit tiresome.
This was a hard book to read —Wayne is a master at slowly building immense tension — but wow was it worth it. With all his books but especially this one. A profound capturing of the times in which we live, as seen through the eyes of a human lost in it.
"Teddy Wayne's 'The Great Man Theory' is a riveting exploration of contemporary society, deftly interwoven with insightful commentary on technology and the Trump era. Wayne's narrative artistry is evident, endowing characters with depth and resonance.
His penchant for Hollywood-style endings, as seen in both 'Loner' and 'The Great Man Theory,' may not universally satisfy. In 'Loner,' leaving the protagonist in obscurity could have added a layer of intrigue. Similarly, a more subdued resolution for Paul in 'The Great Man Theory' might have imparted a more poignant resonance.
In 'Loner,' the possibility of the main character remaining an enigmatic figure among us could have heightened the sense of discomfort and intrigue. Likewise, in 'The Great Man Theory,' Paul's fate might have carried more emotional weight with a less over-the-top conclusion.
In spite of this, Wayne's skill in delving into pressing societal matters and captivating readers remains indisputable. For those seeking a thought-provoking glimpse into our world today, this book proves a rewarding read
Teddy Wayne is one of our best writers in unspooling the loneliness of men who think they're smarter than everyone else and in each of his last three novels, he's drilled down into a particular facet of said loneliness. Loner's project was romantic loneliness, Apartment's was an interpersonal/social loneliness, and now, with The Great Man Theory Wayne doubles the age of his protagonist and examines a loneliness of purpose. Paul, the novel's protagonist, is clearly modeled on the Jeff Tiedrich/BrooklynDadDefiant model, a self-righteous liberal with a bent against a Trump that is all but named; he's not wrong in his ideas so much as he is wrongheaded in his take on them - a blowhard by any name is still a blowhard, and the novel unravels as he sinks ever further into Internet commenting and decrying the state of the world. The problem I have with the book is not so much that I don't get what Wayne is attempting to do here as that it's almost too much. Where Loner and Apartment made me want to kill myself for the aspects I saw reflected through a dark mirror, Great Man only makes me want to throttle Paul. The novel improves on this aspect after the first 100 pages, but wading through those is being subsumed into the mindset of every blue check twitter liberal who tweets shit like "if you look out your window and see a cow, you're what's wrong with America." It's well done, to the point where for the first bit I was convinced that this was just Wayne on a screed, but after six years of living this, it's just not really what I want to be reading, mainly because it bores me. There's parts of this novel, the sections set in and around the college campus where Paul works as an adjunct, that read almost like a flipped version of Scott Johnston's Campusland -where that (unequivocally conservative and generally boring) novel made its point of satire the society that its good old boy protagonist dwells in, Paul is clearly the point of satire here, and that's a good change, but not enough to save it. It's weird, too, that even as this novel builds to the most ambitious climax of Wayne's novels that I've read, it lacks the impact of previous works. There's always a point in his books where you can see where this will probably end, but you keep reading to find out how he gets there; this one I mostly kept reading out of dedication to an author I like. It doesn't help either (and through no fault of Wayne) that the ending bears enough thematic similarity to Tom Perrotta's Tracy Flick Can't Win, the only other new release I've read in the last few months, that it almost comes as a cliché. Ok, so what? The ending of Loner still lives in my brain, as does one scene from Apartment but I don't think I'll be thinking about this any further after I finish writing this review. Disappointing, but I'll hold out hope for the next one.
This book was a page-turner, but I also had to put it down from time to time due to the protagonist's deeply horrible personality and self-centeredness. I could only take him in small doses. Sure, most of his viewpoints were justified, but goodness, was he rude and horrible at points in the story. Wayne did a great job with Paul, as far as depicting him as a curmudgeon. Truthfully, I often couldn't tell if I was reading a satire or not, which I actually found highly amusing.
As I was reading, I understood Paul's angst and fury. However, there were different routes he could have taken to get his ultimate point across... which is perhaps worth considering? Or are we to feel and think that what Paul does at the end of the novel is his only option or best option?-- which brings me to the only issue I had with the novel: For whatever reason, I didn't buy Paul's desperate actions at the end of the novel. Up until the last 15 pages or so, there was no indication he wanted to act so drastically. Yes, he was bitter and lost everything and complained a lot, but there wasn't much (or anything?) mentioned about his psyche and how desperate he felt inside, how unhinged he really felt or was beginning to feel, and he wasn't thinking violent thoughts or displaying violent behavior. I suppose that could be the point... but somehow, unfortunately, it didn't come across for me. That being said, I think this book offers a ton of important topics to talk about, especially the great man theory and whether Paul ended up becoming precisely what he was trying to warn others about? How deep did Paul's hypocrisy run? And where does writing and its efficacy fit into all of this?
I would recommend this novel to those who have a sarcastic streak, and those who have a lot to say about our current political climate and the world's of academia and publishing.
It's always nice to discover a very interesting author I've been missing out on. Teddy Wayne is one of those, and I will definitely look into his previous novels.
There was something about the trajectory of Paul, the protagonist, that remained me of the much longer Bonfire of the Vanities. Two different worlds - Paul is an adjunct writing comp instructor and aspiring writer and the Tom Wolfe's Sherman McCoy was a bond trader. But the life events and some of the writing brought back memories. And that's a good thing.
Paul is a divorced Brooklyn father and is attempting (with the help of ill-gotten prescription adderall) to write about his resentments of modern life in a book called The Luddite Manifesto. He tends to rant and rave about his opinions, alienating those around him. His classes and pay are reduced and he is forced to move in with his widowed mother. He has no health insurance, and his trip to an orthopedic Dr. is funny and sad at the same time. His pre-teen daughter starts to distance herself from him and one thing after another happens in his life. . I thought the ending was good, and I very much enjoyed the excellent writing and wry humor among the pathos.
I’m not crazy about Trump-centric plots in fiction. I suppose the unpleasantness of living through it in reality quite recently means it’s not especially appealing to revisit.
Still, I like Teddy Wayne’s writing a lot and thus decided to give this a shot anyway.
It’s an interesting portrait of a man unraveling, and the slow build toward the protagonist’s descent into some form of madness is very well done. Structurally, it’s an excellent novel, even if it becomes apparent what is going to happen fairly early on.
Still, all the Trump stuff just feels tired and tiring, and I much preferred the sections of the book focused on the protagonist’s family and workplace issues.
It doesn’t help that he’s a supremely unlikable person who is happiest when he’s scolding and lecturing those who would be his allies and loved ones. The dripping sanctimony he exhibits takes away any moral high ground he might occupy on various issues.
And of course, like many folks like him in real life, he seems more interested in control and indulging his own rage than he does in actually trying to make a difference in any meaningful or positive way.
*I received an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.*
Saw this reviewed in a local St. Louis publication and I expected to hate it in the way that I hate Franzen and pretty much most creative content from white Gen X creative types (especially those who've moved to Brooklyn and are living in that bubble). I ended up loving this book. I'm a year older than Paul, the main character, have a daughter about the same age, am a writer, have been divorced, former cabbie turned ride-share knowing the fear of having rude passengers giving drivers bad ratings, and some say I'm a curmudgeon. Some of these chapters hit home in ways that weren't comfortable. I found this to be a brilliant tale of Gen Xers, especially guys, trying and failing to find a place in a rapidly changing society with a backdrop of divorced fatherhood, the gig economy, and fictionalized versions of FOX News and Trump. Biggest lesson? Don't date anyone working in cable news and middle-aged marginally employed creative types can't afford to live in New York.
I expect Teddy Wayne novels to make me uncomfortable, but this one also mostly just made me bored. Several years ago, I promised myself I'd stop reading white-male-Brooklyn-author-problems books after The Love Affairs of Nathaniel P perfectly satirized and fulfilled the genre for me, but I decided to make an exception because of the author. Wasn't worth it.
The publisher describes this novel as “the hilarious, incisive, yet deeply poignant story”. Unfortunately publishers seem to seize on the word ‘hilarious’ to sell novels that are not so at all.
In my opinion, it was totally unfunny and quite tedious.
Absolutely love this author. His second best book after Apartment. He writes with such wit and style, and I laughed out loud a few times. The ending will have me thinking for quite some time about the main character’s fate.
This felt like a slog to get through and I usually didn't want to pick it up. But it's Teddy Wayne soni didn't want to give up. Wasn't into it until the last third where all the wheels came off. Satires of things we're still living through just don't hit the same I guess?