Loose Change
+ another review by Anne K. Yoder
Can a person really change? Can they shed the skin of their past ideas, beliefs, habits, and rise above the embers to be that caring, insightful, self-actualized human we all long to be? That's just one of the many ethical questions posed to the readers of Francine Prose's A Changed Man, a novel about goodness, motives, and above all else, change. I would like to pose another question to the readers of A Changed Man: Can a novel really change? Can it start with an interesting idea, and grow and develop into an exceptional idea by the end of the story? For a novel that runs 421 pages, A Changed Man offers its readers very little change at all. The novel has been touted as a biting satirical work of fiction; "mercilessly funny" and a "brilliant new comic novel" say the critics, but as far as I can see, the comedy just barely bubbles beneath the surface. It's an interesting story, and that's about it.
Much of the story takes place during the time leading up to the execution of Timothy McVeigh, the Oklahoma City bomber, and in fact, the ghost of McVeigh looms heavy throughout the novel, owing to the fact that the protagonist, Vincent Nolan, physically resembles McVeigh. Nolan, a young neo-Nazi who is unhappy with the direction his life has taken, presents himself to the people at the Manhattan office of World Brotherhood Watch, which is a human-rights foundation. He announces to Meyer Maslow, the head of the foundation, that he's had a change of heart, and wants to help "guys like me from becoming guys like me." Maslow, a revered Holocaust survivor and author of numerous inspirational books like One Heart at a Time, is initially hesitant to embrace this repentant skinhead and his tale of redemption. But it doesn't take long to realize that a neo-Nazi who leaves the fold to aid and abet the enemy will translate into increased fund raising dollars, not to mention boost the sagging sales of Maslow's latest book. Soon Meyer and all his Brotherhood cohorts are on the bandwagon, welcoming Nolan with open arms. In no time at all, the wheels are set in motion for an all-out media campaign, hailing Vincent as the poster boy for redemption and change.
The story is entertaining, and Prose is a gifted writer -- a previous novel, Blue Angel, was a finalist for the National Book Award. Written in third person narrative, the story reveals itself through the eyes of four main characters: Nolan, Maslow, Bonnie Kalen (Maslow's right-hand woman), and Danny, Kalen's teenage son. We move back and forth between these people's different points of view, and their various motives and conflicts. This is definitely part of the novel's appeal, and an effective narrative technique. Unfortunately, Prose gets bogged down in too many irrelevant details of their lives, making an otherwise very good story sometimes tedious. Each character's internal dialogue is awash in "Dare I at a peach?" navel-gazing which just makes you want to jump into the book and smack them upside the head.
Another tedious aspect of A Changed Man is Prose's attempt at creating a Swiftian satirical tone in her moral observations. Yes, Vincent wasn't a bona fide neo-Nazi, and was really just looking for another form of security by leaving the skinheads for the goodies at World Brotherhood Watch; yes, Maslow is an ego maniac who needs constant affirmation, and is jealous of Vincent's sudden popularity; yes, Bonnie is Maslow's sycophantic lackey because she's really just filling a void left from her broken marriage. Everyone has ulterior motives in their quest for doing good. This is nothing new; we encounter this moral dilemma every day (one only has to mention the words Terry Shiavo to appreciate the meaning of ulterior agendas). So if you're exploring a familiar idea, you'd better serve it up as unique, sharp, biting satire to really make readers sit up and take notice. Instead Prose spreads her humor lightly with a butter knife, and the end result is a tepid meal that was already better served by the likes of Swift. I was left hungry for something more substantial, something with meat, and maybe even a bit of blood. I rummaged through my bookshelves, but couldn't find my old copy, so I marched right out and bought a fresh edition of Anthony Burgess' A Clockwork Orange. It's all there: the wit, the irony, the keen observations of the morality of man and free will. Ahh... O, my brothers, I was satiated all right.
When I first saw the cover of A Changed Man, I was intrigued but in the end disappointed in the design. I thought it was a half-hearted effort in the exploration of the metaphor of the tattoo as a symbol for permanence and change. It is just type laid-over a photograph. Where's the creativity in that? What the artist should have done was paint the letters right on to the bare back of that man. But maybe in the end, the design does suit the story, for it too, is a half-hearted effort in the exploration of man's desire to change. If you're looking for real change, and looking to be changed, pick up the Penguin edition of A Clockwork Orange, which, by the way, has a fabulously designed cover, worthy of the message inside.
— 25 April 2005
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