The name is Bond, Adam Bond and this month, our very own Lovestrucker has been particularly busy. Yes, when he’s not gracing the glossy pages of the Saturday Times magazine as one of our most popular males, he’s taking time out from dating to give his splendid verdict on the newly launched novel The Love Affairs of Nathaniel P. by Adelle Waldman…
The powers-that-be at Lovestruck asked me to contribute a book review. Given that I have not been reading much over the past several months, and that I had only just finished a fantastic book the day before the request, I felt that I should continue to ride the crest of that wave of literary osmosis. Then I discovered the name of the book: The Love Affairs of Nathaniel P. by one Adelle Waldman. Never heard of it. Never heard of her. But considering that the book that I had just put down was Micro by the infallible Michael Crichton (and so, now you have a glimpse into the genre that appeals to my literary appetite!), I was less than enthused.
Surely this was to be a novel that would sit comfortably in the company of books that ended up being adapted into romantic films starring Katherine Heigl, Kate Hudson or Drew Barrymore. I had about as much interest in reading the book as I do in watching The Only Way Is Essex. Nevertheless, I agreed to this project, and I gingerly cracked the spine of the book after it arrived at my apartment…
I inhaled the book. Waldman – a journalist living and working in New York who has embarked upon her first novel – has created a world of the smug, self-absorbed intelligentsia of New York writers and authors whose vocabulary grossly overshadows that of my own. The characters casually quote early 20th-Century French cultural theorists, Dickens, Borges, Boswell and Bulgakov (to name only a very few) at parties where one might be more accustomed to conversations revolving around the sociological ramifications and traumatic experience of viewing the ‘Red Wedding’ of Season Three of Game of Thrones. And yet the stories, relationships and experiences that are depicted are as real as the ones we endure daily in the real world – be that world in New York or London.
Waldman – who clearly has read Men are From Mars, Women are From Venus by John Gray – writes a brilliant story that revolves around her main character – the 30-year-old writer, Nate Piven – the product of, we are told, “a post-feminist, 1980s childhood and politically correct, 1990s college education.” However, it is clear from the outset that no matter how academic, articulate, well-read and intelligent Nate may be (a graduate of Harvard University), he is no less flawed than a foul-mouthed, chauvinistic, ‘love-‘em-and-leave’em’ prick who regards women as subservient sex-objects rather than respectable companions or valuable contributors to society. So, how bad (or good) is he?
When I received the book, it arrived a ‘press kit’ of sorts, which included two small badges: one that read “I ♥ Nate”, and one that read “I HATE Nate”. However, there was no badge that read: “Nate is a Man”. He is neither saint, nor devil. However, he may be something worse that a ‘bad man’: he’s half good. (To paraphrase Dashiell Hammett, the American author of a slew of detective novels) However, we first encounter Nate at a rather revealing point. Whilst rushing to get to the dinner party of an ex-girlfriend, he sees another ex-girlfriend on the street who he hasn’t seen since the day she had an abortion for which he was party to the cause (albeit a broken condom). Having never called or seen her since she – quite understandably – calls him a (rude name) This is not the last time that Nate is so labelled in the book either. Despite “having done everything that could have been expected of him,” (paying for the abortion and escorting the girl to and from the clinic) Nate is portrayed right off the bat as a deeply flawed man for letting her down; the stage is set for passing negative judgment on this character. So can a man who is as intelligent and evolved as this be expected to do any more? 
Well – No. Nate handled the situation awfully, yet as a man, I identify immediately that Waldman had done something absolutely remarkable: she has created a man who is as real and recognisable to men as they are to themselves. I am not for a moment saying that I am anything like Nate. I would never have shirked away from the responsibility in the aforementioned scenario.
Although Nate is clearly a far more intellectual man than I, a geek of sorts and frankly, he’s ‘wet’, there is one constant in his actions and decisions with which I identify and to which I suspect all men who read this book can relate: self-preservation. Survival. Granted, Nate’s ability to say the absolutely worst possible thing at the worst possible moment, or then say nothing whatsoever when something, ANYthing should be said. But that survival instinct is in all men.
The journey that we experience through Nate – his fledgling romance with another writer, Hannah, as it blossoms into a full relationship, its peak, and then its waning months followed by the inevitable – and painful – break-up – is as real as any that I can recognise. Waldman, though, is careful and creative in demonstrating that the relationship and the responsibility for its survival or demise is a two-sided coin: The moments of Nate’s missteps in communication with Hannah, followed by the ‘damned if I do, damned if I don’t’ argument that seems to appear in every altercation between them, and then eventually a reasoned and dispassionate conversation between these two intellectuals.
There is a full relationship and intimacy to which we are party and which Waldman has expertly created. Waldman is clearly a writer who understands men on many levels, and as a woman has therefore been able to perfectly articulate both sides of the relationship; it is hauntingly familiar.
Despite their overwhelming intelligence and articulate nature, it is clear that the trauma endured by Nate and Hannah in their relationship failures is one and the same that all couples endure – there is no refuge in intellect from the lessons, obligations and trials of reality.
Could The Love Affairs of Nathaniel P. have been an exercise in therapy – a coping mechanism – written by Nate or Hannah? It could well have been presented as such. However, no matter what books either character writes, has written or intends to write, one thing is for certain: Waldman’s book is clearly of a higher calibre.
So which badge will you wear boys and girls? Join the debate: Do you ‘love or hate Nate?
View a sneak preview here
The Love Affairs of Nathaniel P. is published by Windmill Books
Tweet
