A book about screwed up people and their screwed up lives! It’s like it was written specifically for me. The thing is, this book has got some flaws...big ones. But for the most part, the flaws are mitigated by good writing and by ambitious insight into human motivation—the factors that influence our behavior and interpersonal relationships. It’s like a Franzen novel, but with a psychological twist.The FlawsFirst of all, the connections in this novel are way too convenient. I could get past the fact that Anna, who used to screw Simon, is now tired of screwing Joe, and that Joe, who misses screwing Anna, has been enjoying screwing Angelique, and that Angelique, who has been screwing both Joe and Simon, is going to end up getting screwed by everybody. But then Perlman introduces even more coincidental connections that reduce his world to bizarrely small proportions, making the whole thing seem mildly claustrophobic.Also, the characters are unlikeable. This is not necessarily a flaw in itself, as there are plenty of novels I love which contain characters that I do not; the flaw stems from the fact that I suspect I’m meant to like these characters, especially the protagonist Simon. Does the fact that I don’t like him mean the author has failed? Have I failed? When there is ambiguity between my emotional response to a character and what I suspect is the author’s intent, I feel uneasy. To me, these characters are self-centered, short-sighted, and their behavior, even after understanding the motivations behind it, makes it difficult for me to empathize with them.My last gripe is that the final chapter of the book contributes very little to the story. There are seven chapters in all, each presenting a first-person account of a character mixed up in this tangled web of betrayals. They are:1. Alex, the Compromised Psychiatrist2. Joe, the Shallow Adulterer3. Angelique, the Selfless Prostitute4. Mitch, the Unstable Analyst5. Simon, the Insightful Kidnapper6. Anna, the Perpetual Victim7. Rachael, the Unlikely EpiloguerEach of the characters is in some way involved in the plot and provides insight into his character and the characters with whom he interacts. The exception to this is Rachael, who has nothing to do with the story at all. Rachael’s chapter seems only to exist to push forth Perlman’s views on moral ambiguity and on what constitutes mental health. Rachael’s account feels out of place, and it is written from a future perspective which gives the characters a form of closure that does not suit them. Their futures, along with their moral certitude, should remain as ambiguous as it was in the rest of the book.The InsightThis part is pretty awesome. One of the first things this novel analyzes is the concept of human behavior and the motivations that drive it. These motivations could be something palpable such as hunger or sexual desire, or they could be more tenuous like jealousy or the need for social acceptance. Psychology professor Abraham Maslow categorizes these motivating factors into a hierarchical structure that provides a basic understanding of which needs take precedence over others and how they come to dominate human behavior. Like this!Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs [Maslow, A. H. (1943). “A Theory of Human Motivation,” Psychological Review 50(4): 370–96.]Maslow’s hierarchy of needs separates “deficiency needs” from “betterment needs.” The deficiency needs are lower level needs that must be met before moving on to the betterment, or higher level, needs. Without having fulfilled one’s deficiency needs, he will not have the capacity for betterment. Of course, this is all an attempt at generalization—humans are much more complicated than this, and there are often multiple motivators occurring simultaneously that influence a person’s behavior. But overall, if someone has the emotional maturity to seek constant betterment, then it can be deduced that the person’s lower level needs have been met, and he’s probably in a state of sufficient mental health.This title of this book takes its name from the the work of a poetry critic, William Empson, who talked about the elements of a poem that give it its greatness—specifically, a sense of ambiguity in word meanings. But Perlman refers here actually to the moral ambiguity of his characters, which is another topic of interest this novel addresses. In many ways, the protagonist Simon reminds me of Tony from The Sense of an Ending. He acts primarily out of self-interest but is too full of himself to see it that way, convincing himself instead that his actions are altruistic, and even goes so far as to throw his moral superiority into the faces of those he has clearly wronged.Tony may not have been, but Simon is by most definitions mentally unstable. In fact, Simon’s mental health issues form the basis of this novel. Simon is described as having two particular traits that affect his mental health. First, he is acutely aware of the world around him—too acutely aware. “The illumination is not worth the candle.” Second, his self-appointed sense of empathy prevents him from attaining happiness because he is constantly concerned, so he says, with the welfare of others. He sees altruism on the decline in society and it depresses him.But, you say, there are plenty of those who have an acute awareness of other people’s pain and the strong tendency to empathize with them, and not all of those people are mentally unstable, right? So true! And this is explained by a trait of last resorts called “learned helplessness.” If we convince ourselves that we are unable to change a situation for the better, even our acute awareness and our overwhelming sense of empathy will not be enough to make us batshit nuts. Perlman essentially describes the state of mental health as being one in which there is not an acute awareness or there is not an over-concern for others; or if these traits both exist, that they are kept at bay by learned helplessness. The fact that most people see the world through a lens of ambiguity, or the fact that we are driven by our desire to fulfill our own needs helps protect us from mental breakdown.Throughout his life, Simon has acted mostly out of a motivation to satisfy higher level needs, which explains his ability to empathize (as his basic needs have already been met). But after losing his job he falls down the rungs a bit, and within a short time his behavior becomes dominated again by deficiency needs. This causes him to temporarily lose the ability to empathize and the danger for Simon lies in the fact that he is unable to acknowledge this. Combined with his grandiose sense of self-worth which disallows any learned helplessness on his part, Simon becomes delusional and these delusions are what end up driving his behavior.I’m really glad to have read this book. Novels that pick apart the nuances of human motivation greatly interest me and Seven Types of Ambiguity is no exception, especially considering that the insight it provides far transcends its shortcomings.
I went into this with low expectations, expectations I'm now slightly ashamed of, since they were born of prejudice. Never having heard of it made me feel like it wouldn't be good (ridiculous), and with the comparisons to Roth and Franzen, I expected prose that was unimpeachable but not exciting and an ambitious story that failed to deliver. But Seven Types of Ambiguity is actually great. Simon, the protagonist, kidnaps the son of an ex-girlfriend (though this isn't ever directly dramatized), and the rest of the novel explores the ways in which this influences the lives of everyone Simon is even remotely connected with. And each of the seven sections of the book is narrated by a different character. This sounds lame and/or gimmicky, but it works. Perlman gives us the narrators that we'd want, and none of the sections belong to children or animals. Most of the sections bear directly on Simon's story, too, so you never spend too much time talking about details that aren't important. The writing style is good, but without pyrotechnics. Perlman is a lawyer--excuse me, barrister--and you can see that from his prose. There's plenty of subordinate clauses and tortured syntax and far-removed antecedents etc. in his sentences, so they're complex without using any words that might send you to the dictionary. For example:"...even a sterile marriage, one in which the husband gets more warmth from the prostitute he visits regularly than from his wife, one in which the wife has been too successful in utterly repudiating everything she used to be before she managed to get everything her parents had taught her she would ever want."Does it all work? Of course not. Perlman has a number of irritating tendencies I feel obligated to mention. First, he seems to have a need to impress with either his research or his background knowledge, as if he's saying, "Look how much I know about law! And casino blackjack! And escort services! And psychiatry! And Billie Holiday! And deconstructionism!" Not kidding about that last one; we really do get a several-page intro to deconstruction. Sigh. Second, his characters are pretty often types, like, as Paul Bryant pointed out, the tart with a heart of gold. Or the tortured psychotherapist, which, third, there's more psychotherapy in this than any good book should be able to contain. Fourth, Perlman goes out of his way to make sure his characters' lives are pathetic enough to tug at the heartstrings. Is character A. not as unhappy as she should be? Let's give her MS. Is character B. having too much fun in prison? How 'bout some rape? And let's get a round of clinical depression for everyone. But Perlman pulls it off. For one thing, he can really write, and for another, he really cares about his characters. If either of those weren't true, my guess is that Seven Types of Ambiguity would be a complete failure. But they are, and I thought it was great, and a surprisingly quick read, and I'd recommend it with almost no reservations.
What do You think about Seven Types Of Ambiguity (2005)?
I love long books. Most who know me know that I am a pretentious, pretentious man. I don't love long books because I am pretentious and long books make me look smart (I am pretentious because I explain why I am and why I am not pretentious - see, I've proven my point). I love long books because they generally do a better job of capturing the complexity of life. This rule does not apply to all books that I love. Action adventure or fantasy stories should only include, as William Goldman puts it, "the good parts." The Seven Types of Ambiguity deals with the life decisions of many characters, but circles around one character in particular. The story progresses through seven characters points of view and this is where the complexity is truly compelling, because we all believe ourselves to be the hero of the story, but we may be supporting casts or the villain in other stories and never know it. This book is an eye opener that is gorgeously written and is very satisfying for those looking for a complex, but plot-driven novel.
—Paul
Well. Where to start? This is obviously a lengthy and involved story; one that's told through 7 different character's viewpoints.I have to say that for the most part I liked the differing viewpoints and think they served their purpose to illuminate the characters as you saw the same situation through different eyes.I definitely identified more with Joe and Angel more than anyone else in the story, and maybe that colored my experience of the book? If you side with Simon and really love him as a character will you come out of the book feeling better or differently than if you side with Joe?Simon wasn't my cup of tea. He came off as whiney and pretentious and someone who utterly has failed at life for the most part. I mean he has nothing on Mitch, but I must say that I believe Mitch was in there solely for us to hate him... so there's really not much to be said for that.I'm not saying I didn't completely feel at one with the idea of Simon's obsessive love... I understand that feeling. It also made me feel like I have my shit together compared to Simon, so I suppose that's a good thing.Overall I enjoyed this book, but I don't think I necessarily sided or fell in love with the characters the Author intended. In fact I didn't fall in love with any of the characters, but there was plenty in them that I could identify with.
—Chris
This is by far and away the longest book I have ever reached the end of. From the first two paragraphs I was hooked. The way Perlman writes about the protagonist's endearing - but ultimately over-romanticised and distorted - memories of his ex- grabbed me immediately. The image of the thoughtful, sexy woman, hair held with chopsticks, donning tortoise-shell glasses, sipping diet coke and reading in the bay window is a fantasy I share in, albeit a fairly pathetic and cliched one.I found the changing narrative perspectives at once disorientating and engaging; it gave a freshness to each chapter, providing a subtly different version of events, whilst still propelling the plot forwards and tying up the previous chapters' loose ends.The novel takes in literature, poetry (who knew about the Ern Malley hoax, prior to Perlman's novel?), law, philosophy, and yet manages to remain fundamentally a story about the complexities of the human condition.It is an ambitious novel; reading it is a major undertaking, but it was all worth it. If you get the time, please read it.
—Matt Stalker
