book review: 'No more Mr Nice Guy' by H. Jacobson
I enjoyed reading Howard Jacobson's column in the 'Independent' ( 'It is -are you?'). His broad knowledge and independent spirit appealed to me- a lot.
It was the book title that attracted me initially—I had not read any of his books.
I expected a novel about the shift from seeking external valediction via others to a more grounded, confident life that is less dependent on the approval of others. A life that is less focused on meeting the all pervasive corporate metrics and expectation.
Dr Robert Glover’s bestseller of 2003 with the same title- sometimes shortened to ‘nmmng’ - has set the tone of what to expect. ( There is also an Alice Cooper and Megadeth song with this title-cover at the bottom)
Below: various front covers of H. Jacobson’s 1998 novel. I don’t know if- or to what extend- Dr. Glover was influenced by H. Jacobson’s novel.
Book Summary
The Midlife Crisis and transformation of an ALPHA MALE? Frank Ritz is a television critic with his own newspaper columns. He has to watch day TV so he can write about it. TV which he increasingly dislikes. He sets out on a odyssey, in a quest to define --what ‘sex’ is. And as he does so, every time he comes close, - it slips away. A kind of sexual road movie - in memory as well as real time- of what happens when sex is all you know but is no longer what you want..
The novel is about human nature, the ways and difficulties in which it can be changed, reprogrammed. It has echoes of Freud ( ‘everything is sex driven, either direct or as culturally enforced, repressed behaviour) versus C.G. Jung (‘some of the forces driving human behaviour are not sex driven or a result of repressed sexuality) in it.
Frank Ritz is an Alpha male in the sense that he is blessed with an unblocked vitality, ie his sexual drive is not blocked or filtered by cultural hang ups and norms. Well so it seems.
I used to believe that men with such vast sexual experience and confidence are better suited to dealing with human nature. Having read this book I’m not so sure anymore. .
His routines and approach to women and sex was fine and dandy in the 1970s when he was an English lecturer to European Au Pairs and Scandinavian exchange students- but times have change. Chronicling the changes that have taken place in the last 2 or 3 decades of the last century is enough to recommend the book.
Times have changed: in his case in more than one way: not only has he to negotiate his path through a much more political correct environment, —what was allowed in the 70s is regarded as no more acceptable in the early nineties, where the narrative of this book takes place- but he has come to terms with the loss of vitality and loss of the urgent drive of the pancreatic juices that used to fuel his Rabelaisian nature.
What happens when life forces you to say good buy to old dreams and perceptions of yourself?
Frank is forced to say good buy to instinct driven ‘shtupping’ ( probably Jiddish related to the German verbs ‘stupsen’ ( to push) or ‘stopfen’ (to fill) . The book is a reflection of human nature and the difficulty in changing it.
Who can deny that all religions and secret societies concern themselves with the unblocking of culturally blocked vitality?
Mr ‘Ritz’ - those familiar with the German language might question whether the name is a reference to the hotel chain or to his Rabelaisian vitality and central ‘focus’ of his life’s obsession.
That four letter word that has nothing to do with the phonetically identical German Philosopher of the Enlightenment,- Immanuel Kant… that, based on its frequency in this book, is the centre of the novel.
‘YNAF’ is Cockney and like many Cockney slangs (eg china plate – mate (friend), dog and bone – phone, jam-jar – car etc) kind of reads backward to be decoded.. They used to go on ‘YNAF- HUNTS’. ‘YNAF’ has a poetic dimension: ‘why, wine, nough, naff, enough’. Its all in there.
His thought’s wander around the changes: once you take ‘shtupping’ out of teaching, a school like the one Frank was devoted to, loses its rationale. That students learn less as a consequence- learn less of consequence- he is convinced. (There is a fair amount of politically incorrect thought being articulated).
That teachers too were once happier when f.cking their students was an allowable perk- in most cases their only perk- he doesn’t doubt either. Show him a happy teacher today! But he knows better than to raise this matter in the company of any of the little Heloises who have columns on his paper.
His female partner for some years, Melissa Paul (‘Mel’), writes and sells ( without too much pressure thanks to his income) pornographic novels for liberated women and is throwing him out, arguing that his presence is ‘too noisy’ in his mind body routines..
This in itself is a sophisticated concept and perspective: to ‘turn down the volume’ of certain emotions that invariably go together or trigger certain situations.
We are talking serious ‘changing human nature ‘ stuff here. A difficult territory. Which as Freud and other have shown, is likely to be anchored in vitality— often embedded in thousands of years of cultural traditions and routines.
Mel finds him ‘too noisy’, can’t think with him in the same house. She is the archetypal ‘mad meschugge woman’ of the house: the Mrs Rochester (from Charlotte Brontë's 1847 novel ‘Jane Eyre’) from whom you have to keep the matches, a Lady Macbeth from whom you have to hide the knives. These days it is the keys to the drink cabinet or the freezer you have to hide from them.
She feels like the classic female victim of marriage: eating disorders, colon irrigation etc. He knows when she has put her finger down her throat again,- the usual tell tale sign: blotches on her neck, clogged up sink.
Live and let live was his philosophy: a house with a woman going mad in it is perfectly normal. This was their life and shows what stage their relationship has reached. Frank has to go. Has to leave the comfort zones of his old routines. This is the start of this odyssey.
Taking his 10 year old Saab convertible ( with only 4000 miles on the clock!) he revisits haunts of his past, of his glory days. Probably looking for signs of meaning or inspiration to his present quandary.
In the course of the book their relationship gradually gains depth and profile, coming over as a serious case of mutual re education/control schemes. From time to time Frank accepts- grudgingly?- that Mel has shaped and changed him- for the better.
EG Mel confiscated all ‘his pictures’ and camera after he tried to snap her climbing out of the bath. She must have been impressed by his compositional talents, as she puts him through the motions of his mind pictures, naked in the park near where they live.
This is not a misogynistic novel. There is detailed female description, Liz, Clarice and Mel - against the backdrop of Cornwall’s native ‘Emmets’. The passages from the last third of the novel -are echoing in my mind. (Mel..’ has been visiting hell on a champagne quickie.. not intending to stay’ ..’but Clarice was in no hurry to retreat’,-p230 pb edition)
He addresses emotions and attitudes traditionally kept behind a cordon sanitaire of taboos & privacy.. It takes courage to describe these situations.
Germaine Greer is quoted on the blurb : ‘Jacobson’s novel.. is one way a woman can learn what a man feels when he is ‘making love’ to ‘her’ ’.
Hmmm. Not all of his love making is mechanical like taking a dog for a walk. Some women he deeply cares for.
Reflecting on the totality of their relationship I can’t help thinking that the majority of people never experience the intensity and compulsion as described in the book. It reminded me in its frankness of the Robert Crumb cartoons of my youth.
Above: Perhaps not the best possible illustration for the Frank- Mel relationship of Howard Jacobson’s book. But comparing Jacobson to Robert Crumb- known for his acerbic unsparing observation- is tempting. Aline Kominsky-Crumb (née Goldsmith; August 1, 1948 - November 29, 2022) was an American underground comics artist. Kominsky-Crumb's work is largely autobiographical and known for its unvarnished, confessional nature. She was married to cartoonist Robert Crumb, with whom she has frequently collaborated.
As much as Hemingway’s ‘Snow on the Kilimanjaro’ is a story about midlife crisis,- its concomitant loss of certainties—‘No more Mr Nice guy’ is about re-evaluation and change and facing up to new uncertainties-so typical for life after reaching 50 or 60.
It is a slow and at times painful process, transition, transformation with enough contradictions, loss of certainties and perspectives, — for Frank Ritz to qualify as an apprentice alchemist.
The style is often funny, the flow of words sometimes lyrical, even poetic.
And then there are the insights- as when he contemplates ‘beauty in a woman—- has to have something of a baby or a boy’. Or reflects the prize of being a cynic: ‘you forgo surprise, you turn everyday into an exact replica of every other’. Or his wistful reminiscence about the time before midlife dulled his senses when a strange hotel room brought with it an abundance of sensual triggers: every sound thick with promise, where every doorknob and window catch, the swinging keys in the wardrobe the ripple in the unfamiliar drapes—- gave shape to the unimaginable future. where is the unimaginable future now?
This is were the inner structure, composition of the novel becomes visible. It is not just a road movie and random sexual odyssey —that James Joyce’s Molly Blum would be proud of. ( I’m still waiting for the right time to read and appreciate ‘Odysseus’)
Frank Ritz knows about the pancreatic juices and hormonally driven male behaviour. Certainly more than I do. That’s probably one of the reasons I find this book of interest.I probably would buy a Frank Ritz NFT if it gave me the chance to partake in his 1st and 2nd chacra voltage…
I also feel Howard Jacobson as a living author deserves more attention. (Now I’ve got his ‘Finkler Question’, ‘Mother’s boy’, ‘Kallooki nights’, Model of a man’, ‘the act of love’ and ‘live a little’ waiting on the shelf)
Back to the novel: while driving away from London in a north westerly direction, without a clear destination he reminisces about his glory day as a language teacher. He ends up in the fashionable Cotswolds where the London millionaires have their weekend homes - or main residence. .
Finding himself sleepless in the king size bed of a hotel room northwest of Oxford, - Frank Ritz flicks through one of those glossy Town & Country ( ‘Oxfordshire Life’) magazines with plenty of full page colour advertisement and editorial—reinforcing the message of the high value adverts, encouraging their readers to aspire to emulate the lifestyle of the well heeled...confirming that this is the thing to do. And, by implication, suggesting that anybody falling short of this is a loser.
This is where he reads an editorial with pictures …showing a Manor Houses he wouldn’t mind owning..a chair he wouldn’t mind rocking in .. a life style he wouldn’t mind indulging- an apartment in Rome that would be handy, a boat off Barbados,— and the gallery that funds it all .... and then to his surprise recognises the name of the gallery owner with all these attributes: Josh Green was one of the language teachers from his ‘glory days’.
So he sets out to visit the gallery the next day -with a certain amount of trepidation based on the glossy -intimidating- write up— and is in for a surprise: Josh’s business is in trouble, the wife has left him and taken everything, he has lost his self respect, recession has set in- his ego is seriously bruised and deflated and he lost the confidence to perform in bed with his new girl friend who is also bruised from a previous relationship.
Frank thinks: ‘if every visit to old friends went as well as this one, he’d do it more often. It’s not that he enjoys seeing Josh unhappy. He just wants to be certain that fifty’s no good for anyone. Equality in dismay, that’s all he’s after’.
It reflects the limited horizon of a book reviewer when they are offended by the occasionally sexually explicit descriptions - from reliving in memory the youthful adventures in the park to his first encounter with street side whores while borrowing his dad’s car, etc.
A tack in the narrative takes place with the encounter of the fat comedienne who soon turns out to have her own hang ups that is not funny -
When I got to the final 2 chapters, much of what had so graphically been described before appeared in a different light. There is a distinct change of rhythm and focus in those last 2 chapters.
But until then he doesn’t beat about the bush, mince words in retracing the events that formed his vitality.
Some wise men say that human’s problem stem from the fact that over the many hundred of million years (at least) three totally different OPERATING SYSTEMS have installed themselves in the human mind. They reflect the evolution from the single cell organism to the reptiles, the move from four legs to standing upright on two, and then- in the last couple of hundred thousand years the more subtle socialising, reflected in the languages and ‘laws’ of ‘orderly’ social cohabitation. No wonder then that all three operating systems rarely line up in harmony.
There is such a highpoint in the book when the different operating system line up in harmony: when Frank describes the near perfect union between him and his best mate’s wife Liz- after having know each other for 6 years or more- during a short visit to- Paris.
It was at this point in the novel that I listened up: this was not just an easy readable entertaining novel about midlife uncertainties,- but it was impressively surefooted in the way it went into uncharted territory of human sensitivities when describing the perfect union—’is not to meld but to experience the different magnetic fields between lovers’.
Perfect union might be -as in this case- the result and fulfilment of a very long build up. Its intense nature is not well suited for long term steady relationships that has to deal on a daily basis with the demands of mundane life - but here the stars align and wrap the two people into the cocoon of intense intimacy- for a weekend.
Below: Vladimir Nabokov’s view of major writer.
Who can deny that at the focus of 21st century social engineering will be the unblocking of vital sexual energy? Whether you refer to it as ‘CHI’, KUNDALINI, GREEN DAY or simply ‘TOTAL RECALL’ ( to Jurassic Park and back)
The problem is that these energies can be so strong and —antisocial ?! That means questions arise about who has the final authority and control of the somatic energy fuelling the pancreatic juices?
Charly Manson is of some interest in this context.
Manson’s last will has to be read in this context: ‘Your brains are locked by the Christian preacher thought, right -wrong-good-bad. Through this teaching, your nuts are locked, so you can’t fuck, let alone kill someone, the same someone who wants your life.’
And this brings me to the only point where I disagree with a point made in the novel. On p140 ( pb edition) Frank talks about the only true passionate pursuit of his life.. .. and predicts a massive sociopathic crisis in the making: a generation of men is about to enter middle age with no passion left for f.cking who have not been schooled in any other purposeful activity: a massive sociopathic crisis.
I’m not saying he is wrong but I see a large part of the male segment today, (thirty years after the novel was written) being so ‘ feminised’ (as a result of a multitude of influences- ie ranging from cultural baggage, single mothers, loss of the male role model to stimulants, growth hormones, fertilizers etc in the food cycles)- that these men never experienced the urgency of ‘pancreatic juices’ and never developed a corresponding confident personality in this context.
These ‘ incels’ (involuntary celibate’) and mother boys would often give an arm and leg to experience the anarchic rush of adrenaline of breaking rules and disregarding conventions -triggered by by high voltage pancreatic juices. The target group of a FRANK RITZ NFT?
Sometimes I have visions where meaningful sex is the privilege of a few elite circles..
I could imagine that there are many who would pay to have access to Frank Ritz’ vitality or would love to experience the power of the pancreatic juices to successfully take charge.. similarly as certain confidence boosting alkaloid stimulants are very popular.
If Howard Jacobson could copyright or patent the RNB/ genetic code or the algorithm of Frank Ritz’s vitality - perhaps in the form of a FRANK RITZ NFT?- (Non-fungible token digital identifier) ——that could represent a considerable value and income stream of royalties.. Something for H. Jacobson to ponder.
So will this novel enter the ranks of the top 500? Or top 100? Will it become part of the school curriculum for sixth form - ie those over 16 year old? Considering that Flaubert’s ‘Madame Bovary’ took a court case and many years to become a mainstay. I could think of multiple reasons why ‘nmmng’ might enter the collective consciousness.
Howard Jacobson lectured for three years at the University of Sydney before returning to teach at Selwyn College, Cambridge. His novels include The Mighty Walzer (winner of the Bollinger Everyman Wodehouse Prize), Kalooki Nights (longlisted for the Man Booker Prize) and, the highly acclaimed The Act of Love. Howard Jacobson lives in London.
further reading and other sources of interest:
“If it repulses you, do not look at it.’Robert Crumb & Aline Kominsky-Crumb Interview: Drawn Together
Howard Jacobson page in the Independent https://www.independent.co.uk/author/howard-jacobson?CMP=ILC-refresh
a sample of his column https://www.independent.co.uk/voices/why-stop-with-cecil-rhodes-how-can-we-tolerate-that-adulterer-nelson-on-his-phallic-column-a6793391.html
the other ‘NO MORE MR NICE GUY’ Robert Glover https://www.drglover.com/no-more-mr-nice-guy/the-book.html
Cockney Rhyming slang https://londontopia.net/culture/language-top-100-cockney-rhyming-slang-words-and-phrases/
Ch. Manson quote: Vague magazine, 1988. ( from D. Black, acid, p 207)
Joan Didion on external valediction pressures like prestige, approval, and conventions of success. https://www.themarginalian.org/2012/05/21/joan-didion-on-self-respect/