The Game: Part I
Recently I finished The Game by Neil Strauss, which had been on my back burner for a while. It was not what I expected.
Its cover appeared to paint it somewhat in between a self-help book for "average frustrated chumps" (it came bound in Biblical black vellum with gold font, gilded page edges and crimson lining) and an expose on "penetrating the secret society of pickup artists," but it really read as a personal memoir-cum-love-story. Yes, I said love story. It's a very touching depiction of the establishment and growth of a deep, abiding attachment that survives despite the trials of professional rivalry, peer pressure, social disdain and even mental illness. Over and over again I was surprised by how the author, for all his other flaws, refuses to give up on the relationship or write off the beloved--no matter how trying and difficult the situation. Neil Strauss writes about his love with such blunt honesty, and yet tempered with such obviously deep-rooted affection, that soon enough I couldn't help but fall a little bit in love with his beloved too.
And that beloved, of course, is Mystery: the number one pickup artist, according to Neil Strauss. He is also Neil's initiator into the so-called Venusian arts; his teacher, guide, friend, and eventually partner, and Neil touchingly holds to the conviction of Mystery being the best even as others disavow him, as Mystery's mental health and various other issues threaten to crumble his entire persona, and as he himself rises in the ranks to command perhaps more respect than his old guru.
Neil doesn't exactly deify Mystery. As portrayed in this book, Mystery is sulky, moody, selfish, childish, occasionally violent, impractical, given to virulent bouts of depression and existential angst, and at once arrogant and insecure. However, once his trust and affection is given to someone, it is apparently given for good, and he is also loyal (to his male friends, obvs), surprisingly free of jealousy, competitiveness or one-up-manship; he can be generous and sometimes downright altruistic. He is capable of being happy for his friend's success without any reservations, even when it comes at the expense of his own, and he is shown to be the perfect teacher, taking genuine joy in passing on knowledge and helping his students--again, even if it's at his own expense. Moreover, through both the ups and downs of Mystery's rather mercurial personality, Neil never wavers from his staunchly held belief that Mystery is A Genius, and that kind of faith, along with the patience he accords Mystery's histrionics, speak much in favor of the man who inspires this type of devotion.
Perhaps the author thought that both the loyalty and the patience would speak in favor of his character rather than Mystery's, but he comes off so smug and full of himself (and yet mock-humble, which is just doubly annoying), that his relationship with Mystery is the one thing that lets me think favorably of him. And makes me applaud Mystery all the more for obtaining some sort of real attachment from a man as into himself as Neil Strauss is. Mystery is of course also into himself, but he makes no pretenses about it. And he doesn't pretend to be so damn superciliously enlightened about women in comparison to his colleagues.
Lest you still wonder at my vehement defense of Mystery's appeal, let me also say that he is reduced to an absolutely maniacal, sobbing, near-suicidal wreck through The Loss Of A Woman He Loved. Classic vulnerable broken "one who must be saved," you know? What with his mental breakdown, there's even a lot of hurt-comfort.
All this aside, my personal love for Mystery also stems from the fact that he is a a peacock, and a man who is not afraid to be ridiculous. And he is a former geek who loves D&D, magic illusions, and Back to the Future II. Plus how can you not love a man who says, in all sincerity, "I want a woman I can respect for her art, like a singer or a super-hot stripper"??
But yes, back to the love story. The narrative begins and ends with Mystery. It starts when Neil decides to infiltrate the Pick Up Artist circles and learn their skills, and is taken under Mystery's wing as a disciple, it reaches its emotional climax when Mystery suffers his breakdown, and it ends when Mystery is ejected from the house they all share. Oh, the author may pretend that the end comes when he gets "a real girlfriend" and moves on with her, but the true narrative arc depends on Mystery always. Neil Strauss may try to spin it like he's moving out for the girl, but it's obvious he's really moving due to the guy. It's clear as soon as he leaves that Neil will not stay either, and the few pages after Mystery exits the story feel like a weak epilogue at best. Really, he admits it himself, writing about Mystery's ejection:
"Even Mystery's Lounge would soon be theirs, with Mystery himself purged.
There was nothing here for me now."
And no moment in the book is as heartfelt and touching as Mystery's attempt to convince him to move together:
"We'll build it right this time. We will be in charge, and we'll carefully screen everyone we move into the house. It'll be Mystery and Style, just like the old days."
"I can't go through this again." The words, apologetic, came out accusatory.
"I understand," he said. "Sometimes events turn sour, and we follow bad threads in our lives. I want you to know that, even though we haven't seen eye to eye lately, I will always be your friend, for life and a day. You don't have to manage your relationship with me. Enjoy your girlfriend, and we will always have time to hang out together. You are the most important man in my life."
And if that's not a love story, I don't know what is.
An actual review of the book-as-a-book coming up later.
Its cover appeared to paint it somewhat in between a self-help book for "average frustrated chumps" (it came bound in Biblical black vellum with gold font, gilded page edges and crimson lining) and an expose on "penetrating the secret society of pickup artists," but it really read as a personal memoir-cum-love-story. Yes, I said love story. It's a very touching depiction of the establishment and growth of a deep, abiding attachment that survives despite the trials of professional rivalry, peer pressure, social disdain and even mental illness. Over and over again I was surprised by how the author, for all his other flaws, refuses to give up on the relationship or write off the beloved--no matter how trying and difficult the situation. Neil Strauss writes about his love with such blunt honesty, and yet tempered with such obviously deep-rooted affection, that soon enough I couldn't help but fall a little bit in love with his beloved too.
And that beloved, of course, is Mystery: the number one pickup artist, according to Neil Strauss. He is also Neil's initiator into the so-called Venusian arts; his teacher, guide, friend, and eventually partner, and Neil touchingly holds to the conviction of Mystery being the best even as others disavow him, as Mystery's mental health and various other issues threaten to crumble his entire persona, and as he himself rises in the ranks to command perhaps more respect than his old guru.
Neil doesn't exactly deify Mystery. As portrayed in this book, Mystery is sulky, moody, selfish, childish, occasionally violent, impractical, given to virulent bouts of depression and existential angst, and at once arrogant and insecure. However, once his trust and affection is given to someone, it is apparently given for good, and he is also loyal (to his male friends, obvs), surprisingly free of jealousy, competitiveness or one-up-manship; he can be generous and sometimes downright altruistic. He is capable of being happy for his friend's success without any reservations, even when it comes at the expense of his own, and he is shown to be the perfect teacher, taking genuine joy in passing on knowledge and helping his students--again, even if it's at his own expense. Moreover, through both the ups and downs of Mystery's rather mercurial personality, Neil never wavers from his staunchly held belief that Mystery is A Genius, and that kind of faith, along with the patience he accords Mystery's histrionics, speak much in favor of the man who inspires this type of devotion.
Perhaps the author thought that both the loyalty and the patience would speak in favor of his character rather than Mystery's, but he comes off so smug and full of himself (and yet mock-humble, which is just doubly annoying), that his relationship with Mystery is the one thing that lets me think favorably of him. And makes me applaud Mystery all the more for obtaining some sort of real attachment from a man as into himself as Neil Strauss is. Mystery is of course also into himself, but he makes no pretenses about it. And he doesn't pretend to be so damn superciliously enlightened about women in comparison to his colleagues.
Lest you still wonder at my vehement defense of Mystery's appeal, let me also say that he is reduced to an absolutely maniacal, sobbing, near-suicidal wreck through The Loss Of A Woman He Loved. Classic vulnerable broken "one who must be saved," you know? What with his mental breakdown, there's even a lot of hurt-comfort.
All this aside, my personal love for Mystery also stems from the fact that he is a a peacock, and a man who is not afraid to be ridiculous. And he is a former geek who loves D&D, magic illusions, and Back to the Future II. Plus how can you not love a man who says, in all sincerity, "I want a woman I can respect for her art, like a singer or a super-hot stripper"??
But yes, back to the love story. The narrative begins and ends with Mystery. It starts when Neil decides to infiltrate the Pick Up Artist circles and learn their skills, and is taken under Mystery's wing as a disciple, it reaches its emotional climax when Mystery suffers his breakdown, and it ends when Mystery is ejected from the house they all share. Oh, the author may pretend that the end comes when he gets "a real girlfriend" and moves on with her, but the true narrative arc depends on Mystery always. Neil Strauss may try to spin it like he's moving out for the girl, but it's obvious he's really moving due to the guy. It's clear as soon as he leaves that Neil will not stay either, and the few pages after Mystery exits the story feel like a weak epilogue at best. Really, he admits it himself, writing about Mystery's ejection:
"Even Mystery's Lounge would soon be theirs, with Mystery himself purged.
There was nothing here for me now."
And no moment in the book is as heartfelt and touching as Mystery's attempt to convince him to move together:
"We'll build it right this time. We will be in charge, and we'll carefully screen everyone we move into the house. It'll be Mystery and Style, just like the old days."
"I can't go through this again." The words, apologetic, came out accusatory.
"I understand," he said. "Sometimes events turn sour, and we follow bad threads in our lives. I want you to know that, even though we haven't seen eye to eye lately, I will always be your friend, for life and a day. You don't have to manage your relationship with me. Enjoy your girlfriend, and we will always have time to hang out together. You are the most important man in my life."
And if that's not a love story, I don't know what is.
An actual review of the book-as-a-book coming up later.