For some reason, I've been reading lots of books written by men, written in first-person and told by male characters. And let me tell you, many of these guys are no prize. In a way, these characters and their stories are treatises on how not live one's life, if you're an adult male.
Here's my recent reading list:
Falling Man, Don DeLillo. This Boy's Life, Tobias Wolff. Now You See Him, Eli Gottlieb. Lay of the Land, Richard Ford. The Sportwriter, Richard Ford.
Things I've learned (not in order of importance):
a. Infidelity is a very, very bad thing. But writers sure have lots of characters who are unfaithful. Sheesh!
b. Loneliness is a very, very bad thing, and often stems from infidelity (see a.).
c. The unreliable (male) first-person narrator, when subtly nuanced and frightening well-developed (as in all the books above, except Falling Man, which is third-person), is an amazing thing, that has left me pondering these character's live at all hours of the day, and in the strangest situations. Their humanity appeals to me, and leaves me with the thought that everything we do and say and feel serves some purpose for us--even if it's not the healthiest behavior.
d. Often, first-person characters are antiheroes, and as such you feel for their plight. They walk knowingly into their personal little room in hell.
e. A good story is a joy forever, even if it's doesn't have a happy ending.
--MJH
