[Book Review] Wayne's "Great Man Theory" examines life of the everyman

Cover of "The Great Man Theory" by Teddy Wayne / Courtesy of Amazon

By No Kyung-min

The first line of Teddy Wayne's new novel, "The Great Man Theory," presents a classic move of investing an unfamiliar character with a magnetic attraction: "'I am a Luddite', Paul typed." As much as it is important to recognize Paul's explicit abhorrence of technological development rooted in his belief that "technological immersion has fomented the rise of right-wing extremism," the fact that he is engaged in the act of writing is worth noting.

Indeed, this outright exposure of his view insinuates two possible ways the novel can unfold. Either Paul sticks to his ideology throughout the novel, or he changes his mind. Yet, more entertaining is to monitor the vertical axis of his life trajectory: is it going to be upward or downward ― or, simply put, plus or minus? And if you are no stranger to Wayne's novels set in college, it is not hard to know what to expect.

Starting his literary career with a relatively mild flavor of the story of Karim Issar in "Kapitoil," a delineation of ethical quandaries, Wayne has been adding piquancy gradually yet incrementally to his dishes of novels, especially at the end of each meal. At first, the kaleidoscopic personalities in his fictional world (or worlds) seemed to reside in different settings. In his first two novels, Wayne adroitly performed his all-encompassing role of a writer who embraces a diverse range of people ― a computer programmer from Qatar and a young Bieber-resembling pop star ― as if flaunting the scope of his literary imagination.

Yet, this discrepancy suddenly converges into campus scenes in his later novels in the lead-up to his latest one about an adjunct instructor. Undeniably, his books "Loner" and "Apartment" can be seen as his personal reflection to a certain degree, for Wayne himself is a Harvard graduate with an MFA degree from Washington University. Then it is curious to account for this insecure adjunct to whom Wayne has little relation, yet who exudes poignant resonance.

In terms of a sense of self, Paul shares quite similar fortunes with the narrators in "Loner" and "Apartment." Wayne's egotistical characters revolve around themselves to the exclusion of others for their personal benefit, although Paul seems to believe the contrary.

Paul puts great faith in the Great Man Theory, an idea derived from Thomas Carlyle, in which a single individual with excellent innate leadership is credited with shaping the course of history. The feeling that we are at the center of our lives is far from delusional whereas the proclivity to equate one's life with the world indeed is. Paul's mounting discomfort with the world is a result of accumulative alienation in his private domain. However, he thinks too highly of himself to confront the pettiness of his life.

Paul adheres to past sentiments as exemplified in the recurrent theme of skeuomorphism, a process of a derivative object retaining ornamental design cues from structures that are no longer necessary. "In general, skeuomorphs make the new version seem more authentic, and not inferior or strange. Like how on computers, the icon for saving something is a floppy disk. People like having a reminder of how things used to be," he explains to his daughter, Mabel.

However, paradoxical as it may seem, Paul is quick to dismiss his anti-tech ideology encapsulated in his titular "The Luddite Manifesto," in which he makes plain his tech-abstinent lifestyle: "I do not post, comment, or 'like,' as I have no social media accounts…" And he turns to the virtual world where he can reconstruct his shattered self with the help of his anonymous political comrades and receive due recognition.

In doing so, Paul discloses that his covert desire to change the world for the better is predicated on self-interest. His attempt to rectify the wrong is futile, foolishly so to the extent that his materialistic concern is dwarfed when it should not be. Yes, his side gig as a ride-share driver only undercuts the pompous tone of his borrowed phrase, "If I don't fix it, who will?"

Whiting Award-winning author Teddy Wayne / Courtesy of Teddy Wayne's Facebook

At this juncture, we are not sure what to feel for him. It is the moment when a sympathetic character turns into an anti-hero, just like the narrators in "Loner" and "Apartment" who cross the line of pathological justification entrenched in the extremes of love and hate. Particularly in "The Great Man Theory," Wayne refrains from bringing up the question of you and me, one-to-one direct cause-and-effect inevitability.

On a much larger scale, Paul's discontent with the world involves a variety of people piled up on his nerves: his unstable job position with no medical support, his politically correct school, his old mom with a new political voice, his daughter's distant sympathy for him, all combined, nibble away at his self-aggrandizing ego.

Ironically, it makes him direct his anger toward a bigger object, person or nation-state. Although these words are in the singular, they are the medium through which he exposes his great being. Unlike Veronica or Billy whose presence itself becomes a target, they are the way to reach a higher goal for Paul. Staying oblivious to the real issues at stake, he misses the trees for the forest.

His attempt to right wrongs does not serve its corrective purpose since it is not a matter of right and wrong from the outset. If anything, it falls into a matter of potential and actuality, or progression and acceptance.

Paul's cleaving to his ideology lacks gravity. His peripheral vision and self-serving ideal taint the legitimacy of his political beliefs, and the remnant of his ideological posturing is only himself. Taking his campus setting up a notch, Wayne betrays those who expect to see the likes of the narrators in his previous campus novels.

We have already encountered the Rothian Dionysian denouement of "American Pastoral" in "Loner," meaning that we are ready to face whatever extremity Wayne has prepared for us. Paul harbors something bigger and greater in the self. With that in mind, it should come as no surprise that "The Great Man Theory" is narrated in the third person. Wayne writes as Paul does, but in a more detached way this time, beyond his experience.

No Kyung-min (xygkit@naver.com) is an intern reporter of The Korea Times.