Click on a review or scroll down to read
them all.
Stephen
Cox, professor of literature at the
University of California and editor of Liberty, chose
Mean Martin Manning as his 2007
summer book pick. His below comments
appeared in the
July 2007 issue of Liberty:
I had a
lonely childhood, so to me one of the
most important things in the world is
friendship. I also care a lot about
certain things that other people would
call political or "social" causes. But I
deeply resent having friendship, caring,
or even the proximity of other people
thrust upon me. I don't care if it's
Beethoven that my neighbor is blaring
from his patio (as if it ever could be
Beethoven); I resent the intrusion,
anyway. I guess you could call this a
typically libertarian character
formation.
Now
comes Liberty's own Scott Stein, with a
novel on precisely this theme of self
versus other: "Mean Martin Manning"
(2007, beautifully produced by ENC
Press). It's a story about a man who is
regarded by the whole American nation as
nasty, vicious, inhuman, and downright
"mean," simply because he wants to exist
by himself. He isn't a hero; he isn't a
villain; he just wants to exist by
himself. His antagonist is a caring
social worker endowed with state power
to "improve" her un-caring neighbors and
perfect them into sociability. She is,
in short, the devil incarnate.
There
are few really good hardcore libertarian
novels. This is one of them. Remember, I
said "hardcore." And "good." "Good"
doesn't mean "I agree with the message."
"Good" doesn't mean "I like the hero."
"Good" doesn't mean "This is an
agreeable fantasy." "Good" means a lot
more than that, and "Mean Martin
Manning" is good. It's smart and it's
funny. It's exactly as long as it ought
to be. Its images, ideas, settings, and
characters will linger in your memory
far beyond this summer.
—end
of Liberty review of Mean
Martin Manning—
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This article
(it isn't a
review) by Katie Haegele appeared in
the Philadelphia Inquirer on
Sunday, April 8, 2007:
Interactive fiction's latest twist -
characters from novels blog
On the
Internet, as the old joke goes, no
one knows you're a dog.
In
fact, no one has to know who you are
at all.
The
anonymity afforded by digital media
has led to some interesting
developments in fiction - an arena
where making pretend has always been
the order of the day.
Scott Stein, associate director of
the certificate program in writing
and publishing in the Department of
English and Philosophy at Drexel
University, has just published his
second print novel, a satire called
Mean Martin Manning. Manning
is a recluse who hasn't left his
apartment in 30 years and has become
the pet project of a persistent
social worker named Alice Pitney.
Before the book was published some
of its characters were already
online, blogging, posting comments,
and promoting their own projects.
Stein maintains four Web sites
relating to his novel: Martin's
personal page (www.meanmartinmanning.com),
Alice Pitney's blog (http://alicepitney.blogspot.com),
the "official" Web site of a TV show
from the book (http://www.itsdrkaren.com),
and the Martin Manning for President
site (http://www.mmm4prez.com),
the only one not run by characters
from the book. (His platform?
"Everyone leaves everyone else
alone.")
Different levels of reader
interaction are possible on the
sites, and the characters who blog
are able, of course, to comment on
other blogs. Stealth blogging, Stein
calls it. Pitney has even left
comments on the political print
magazine Reason's blog Hit and Run.
"She
waits until the thread topic is
appropriate, and then writes
something provocative," Stein says
of his uptight alter ego. "At first,
a couple of the regular commenters
took her seriously, argued with
Pitney or insulted her, and others
quickly figured out that she wasn't
real. Some people have had some fun
with her, playing along."
Stein says it's not his intention to
fool people; each site features a
picture of the book's cover
somewhere. Rather, he says, the
nature of his novel allows him to
signal to readers that these online
personas are fictional.
"Since the novel is a satire, and an
outrageous one, Pitney isn't exactly
a subtle character. What seems
tongue-in-cheek is pretty true to
how she is in the novel - so
over-the-top that out of context you
might think she was performing a
parody. If some people ask
themselves at first, She can't be
serious? and then they realize
that she is satirical, not real,
that's fine."
In
the U.K., novelist and journalist
Alison Norrington is preparing the
launch of her fourth novel,
Staying Single, as a blog
written by the novel's protagonist,
unlucky-in-love Sophie Regan. Sophie
has vowed to remain single for a
year and she will begin blogging
about it on April 25, with chapters
to be delivered by e-mail, text
message and podcast. Reader
interaction is encouraged, and
Norrington plans to include short
documentaries contributed by readers
on the Staying Single blog (http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com).
But
Sophie will also be a character in
Second Life (www.secondlife.com),
a highly developed three-dimensional
online game where players create
their own characters. Characters in
Second Life can have careers,
marriages, and a whole world filled
with stores, art galleries and the
like for them to visit.
Reuters even has a bureau there,
with journalists interviewing people
in character and reporting news such
as real-world businesses that also
operate within the game (http://secondlife.reuters.com/).
"I
would like for readers to really
engage with Sophie as a real
character," Norrington says.
"Although she is fictionalized she
is very much a real person in terms
of her thought processes and
emotions. As a published novelist I
am very aware that writing a good
book means getting the reader to
unpack her bags and settle in for
the duration."
—end
of Philadelphia Inquirer
article about Mean Martin Manning
sites—
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This
review of Mean Martin Manning
was published by the Philadelphia
City Paper on March 22, 2007. It was
written by Edward Pettit.
Click here and
scroll down to see the review in its
original context:
If Franz
Kafka were funny, if, while down at his
local pub in Prague, he had fired off
one witty, sarcastic rejoinder after
another about the absurdity of the
world, then he would have written a
novel like Scott Stein's Mean Martin
Manning.
For the
past 30 years, fed up with the idiocy of
the world around him, Manning has locked
himself into his apartment. He has
neither left his rooms nor spoken to a
single human being. Television and the
Internet have satisfied his mental diet.
Salami, cheese and mayonnaise sandwiches
have been his chief bodily sustenance.
Manning has created a little oasis of
comfort in which he pads around all day
in slippers and a bathrobe. He no longer
owns any other articles of clothing.
Of
course, the world comes crashing in
(literally) when a social caseworker,
Alice Pitney, learns of Manning's
lifestyle and vows to "cure" him, to
help him "realize his full potential."
What follows is a romp through an
absurdist America from trial — in which
Manning, as a belligerent but witty
Josef K zings his contempt onto the
proceedings — to rehabilitation with a
cast of other loonies whom Pitney is
also "helping."
Manning
narrates his story as a first-rate
smart-ass, taking aim at a society that
shoves health and happiness down its
citizens' throats as if the true meaning
of life could be found in uncooked
vegetables and self-help programs, when
we all know what we really need is
salami and pro wrestling. Scott Stein
has written a perfect book for
Philadelphians who are having trouble
coming to grips with government-decreed
bans of trans fats and even the
slightest whiff of tobacco smoke. In
fact, smoking was the only pleasurable
vice I missed in this gem of book.
Mean
Martin Manning is a kind of manifesto
for those fed up with the
health-and-well-being nazis of all
stripes, telling others what they should
or shouldn't do. The enforcement of
civility. No junk food. Eat right.
Exercise. Realize your potential. These
are the commands of a parent to a child,
not the wise legislation of political
leaders. So, what happens when
bureaucrats become stern parents? Those
not in power become petulant children,
just waiting for Mom and Dad to turn
their backs so they can snatch a treat
from the cookie jar or smoke a cigarette
out behind the shed. Here lies the
deeper problem of a health-obsessed
society, which Stein's novel addresses:
the infantilization of adults.
As the
novel progresses, Manning becomes less
like Kafka's Josef K and more like
Anthony Burgess' Alex, whom society
wishes to turn into the perfect
clockwork orange, seemingly ripe on the
outside, but mechanically precise on the
inside. And where's the fun in that?
Manning revolts against this new system
that's supposed to make him a better
human being and draws up his list of
those who need a comeuppance. The scary
part of it all is that Stein's novel is
no dystopian vision of a distant future.
The time is now. Guard your salami and
mayonnaise. Mean Martin Manning for
President!
—end of
Philadelphia City Paper review—
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Below
is the complete text of Bill Turner’s
review of Mean Martin Manning,
published on Per Contra. You can
also
click here to see it in its original
context on their site, posted on
March 9, 2007:
What if? The question is frequently
within the purview of speculative
fiction and the long philosophical
treatise. What if the question were
employed in the aid of serrated social
commentary disguised as a hilarious
journey from hermit to unwilling and
uncontrollable ward of the state? Scott
Stein, with Mean Martin Manning
has done just that.
While the protagonist protests his
situation as a “sham of a mockery,” the
reader easily follows the plot as it
winds through the absurd, to the clever,
to the sometimes too plausible and
concludes with eerie parallels that are
in many instances, too close to home.
The hard-nosed, back bench, true strict
constructionist of the United States
Constitution will alternately laugh –
many times out loud – and cringe at
Martin Manning’s capricious fate as a
resident in a “Life Improvement Zone”
declared by executive order. He or she
will also arrive at the end of the book
with a sigh and a statement in line
with: “I get it.”
Scott Stein makes his deepest cut with
the development of the antagonist Alice
Pitney as a foil for Martin Manning.
She is a conglomerate of the
practitioners and lieutenants of the
nanny society, and she follows the
protagonist from doorstep to nightmare
with all of the diligence one would
expect from a person “here to help.”
While her roles are vaguely defined by
necessity, the craft in building Martin
Manning allows her versatility and
bloody-minded helpfulness to give more
than a few belly laughs and raise some
classical liberal hackles.
Martin Manning begins the book locked in
his apartment across the hall from a
neighbor he judges to be “nuts.” The
situation reverses when Alice Pitney
arrives at his door as his caseworker.
A flash-bang grenade and home invasion
later, courtesy of nameless and faceless
officers of the state, and Manning is on
his way to the hospital, court, group
therapy and state control. And each
movement is marked with wit and sharp
observations.
Most compelling is the state of denial
in which Manning thrives. Not only is
he fighting off accusations and
embarrassing personal revelations, he is
incapable of grasping how the world
outside his apartment has changed to the
point where crotchety hermit-like
behavior is grounds for the loss of
individual liberties. The metaphor is
easy to grasp, but not preachy. The
fact that Stein allows his characters to
work through the competing interests
with a light touch and almost
non-existent narrative editorial is a
compliment to his skill, but also an
assertion of his clarity of idea and
confidence in the reader. Not to say
his narrator, Manning, is at a loss for
words, but that each scene offers
context that suits them.
The pace is quick and the reader is
spared the intellectual convulsions
heaped on the protagonist. With a
healthy dose of laughter, often audible
in my case, Mean Martin Manning is also
fun. And while Scott Stein isn’t
proselytizing for an ideology, he does
give the reader a chance to pause and
draw comparisons between his protagonist
and individuality in contemporary life.
All of these elements tie together. And
for a final thought, I get it.
—end of
Per Contra review—
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Below
is the complete text of the review of Lost that appeared in the Philadelphia Inquirer on February 8, 2001:
There are a million laughs in the big city, as a sharp-eyed writer shows
Lost
By Scott Stein
Free Reign Press. 207 pp. $22.95
Reviewed by Robin Henry
Who’s the man with the bushy mustache?
That’s what Jeremy Keller wants to know.
The reader wants to find out, too. But there’s more to Scott Stein’s Lost than revealing the identity of the mystery man following Jeremy.
The plot is nearly overshadowed by the wonderfully comic way Stein, who grew up in Queens and now lives outside Philadelphia, depicts urban living and modern culture.
Jeremy Keller knows his life has a purpose. So what if he’s been working in a toy company mailroom for seven years and has nothing to show for it but a collection of 2,918 rubber bands? And so what if he’s in love with a woman who barely knows he is alive?
He’s being followed. That happens only to people who are special. And Jeremy believes he’s special. He’s just been waiting for fate to step in and give him a sign.
It could be the man with the bushy mustache. Or it could be a mystery package that suddenly disappears. Either way, Jeremy knows something big is about to happen.
And so the novel begins. The mystery man and the mystery package set off a chain of incidents and misunderstandings reminiscent of 30-minute prime-time TV.
Just like the man with the bushy mustache, the reader gets to follow Jeremy in and around New York, from the top of the Empire State building to the depths of the subway, as he tries to find a coworker he thinks may have died, tries to woo the girl of his dreams, and is forced to wait for his destiny
— and the man with the bushy mustache
— to reveal themselves.
Stein has a keen eye for the details of our cultural landscape. And he sprinkles his scenes with deadpan one-liners and cultural reference points. Theme restaurants, bomb scares, video games, voice mail and even flesh-eating viruses are stitched into amusing sitcom-style situations.
In one instance, Jeremy is taken to the hospital after having an allergic reaction to strawberries. When he is ready to be discharged, he learns his clothes have been destroyed as a precaution. He could have had an Ebola-style virus.
A nurse suggests that Jeremy “borrow” the jumpsuit of an off-duty
— and a bit off-kilter
— janitor to get home. But Jeremy quickly rejects the nurse’s plan:
“This isn’t a sitcom you know. This is my life. I’m not going to get caught up in wacky misadventures posing as a janitor and hiding from a screwdriver-wielding maniac just to please you
— this isn’t Three’s Company.”
Yet Jeremy’s daily life is a set of wacky misadventures. He gets clobbered by bureaucracy and basic technology and even has a few brushes with the law, all with great comic effect.
Then there’s the girl of his dreams. She works at a specialty shop that sells only strawberry products
— the very food he is allergic to. He doesn’t have the courage to ask her out, so he goes to the shop every day and orders a basket of strawberries just to see her.
Instead of throwing the berries away when he gets outside, he offers them to people on the street
— or at least tries to.
One woman demands that he taste the fruit first and requires him to sign a note and show his driver’s license before she’ll take a piece: “How did she know he wasn’t some psycho handing out poisoned strawberries for kicks? She wouldn’t fall for his ploy, refused to be the headline of tomorrow’s New York Post: STRAWBURIED!”
Is Jeremy naive in a savvy city? Maybe so. Throughout the book his well-intentioned acts are turned upside down by others’ fear and cynicism. But Stein takes care to keep the novel light. Even workplace violence
— or the perceived threat of it
— makes a great punch line.
So who’s the man with the bushy mustache? The question does get answered. And true to form, the answer has a comic twist. But it isn’t the revelation of Jeremy’s destiny that makes Lost a page-turner. It’s Stein’s insightful tweaking of city living and modern times.
Robin Henry is an Inquirer staff writer.
—end of Philadelphia Inquirer review—
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Below is the review of Lost when it was a Daily Pick on BookSense.com:
“New York City at the end of the 20th century, and Jeremy, the protagonist of this witty, deadpan debut novel, is being followed, though he doesn’t mind. He is, after all, destined for great things, in which case, being followed is to be expected. And yes, he doesn’t know why he is being followed. And his job is nothing to brag about either. And a certain police detective has it in for him. And the love of his life doesn’t know he exists. And he thinks he’s responsible for the death of an innocent man. And his rent is late. And he lost the mysterious envelope that just might have the answers he’s looking for. And New York can’t seem to leave him in peace. But at least he is being followed. Not everyone can say that. And so with hilarious and winning effect, Stein captures an ordinary guy’s life as it descends into an existential car chase through the twisty turns of New York City
— getting lost has never been so enjoyable.”
—end of BookSense.com review—
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Below is an advance praise blurb for Lost, from Lester Goran, author of the New York Times Notable Book Tales from the Irish Club and numerous other books:
“In the seemingly impossible, Scott Stein has brought to the urban comic novel fresh perspectives and variations on the by now venerable form of the wandering naif in the big city, pursued by the antic perils that constitute life where skyscrapers block the sun. Jeremy, Stein’s picaresque hero, wanders the streets, subways, and office buildings of New York in pursuit of his dreams of glory and at every turn finds himself not the searcher but somebody’s victim. It is American conspiracy theory run riot in hilarious premises that no sitcom can match. This is a funny man, and Lost is a funny book, turning sacred cows upside down, sometimes more than one to a page, explosive, insightful, and with language that’s sharp and crackles like the twists of Stein’s plot. It’s a furious and often dead serious romp until the very last page.”
—end of Lester Goran blurb—
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Valerie Block, author of Was It Something I Said? and None of Your Business, wrote this advance praise blurb for Lost:
“With a lightness of touch, Scott Stein takes on the inanities, barbarities, and pretensions of modern urban life in this winning first novel. Lost is what happens to an ordinary guy when an ordinary day turns into an existential car chase through the subways of New York City. The book is packed with hilarious, deadpan descriptions of brushes with bureaucracy, technology, insanity. Stein’s keen appreciation for the absurd (talking car alarms, vertical food, specialty retail outlets selling strawberry-related products only) makes this novel fun. Get Lost.”
—end of Valerie Block blurb—
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In a review of Lost, the Queens Courier said:
“This urban comic novel is an entertaining view of a lost soul in the big city ... it’s a furious romp well worth reading.”
—end of Queens Courier review excerpt—
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In a listing of
a bookstore reading of Lost, the
Bucks County Courier Times said:
“A
humorous look at the human condition as
it exists in today’s
cities.”
—end of
Bucks County Courier Times mention—
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Washington Square News, the student newspaper of New York University, said this about Lost:
“His descriptions of [Washington Square Park] are exquisitely accurate, from performers showcasing unusual talents to not-so-furtive marijuana dealers.”
—end
of Washington Square News review excerpt—
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Below is an excerpt from the review of Lost that appeared in Drexel University’s student newspaper, the Triangle:
“... never fails to elicit a grin ... Emphasis should be placed on the entertainment value of the novel ... most certainly a worthwhile read.”
—end of Triangle review excerpt—
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New York magazine reviewed the online version of When Falls the Coliseum in its Surf Report:
“Hip, sardonic … quirky … editor Scott Stein examines droll Americana … No matter what your personal politics, WFtheColiseum will spark a thought or two.”
—end of New York magazine review excerpt—
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Below is an excerpt from the review of the book When Falls the Coliseum that appeared in Drexel University’s student newspaper, the Triangle:
“Brought together from across the information superhighway, the essays represent a spectrum of views
— from atheist to Christian, libertarian to liberal. Each is handpicked for its poignancy, and forces the reader to think, regardless of prior convictions. The result is nothing less than engrossing. Stein himself shines in both nonfiction and fiction … simply ingenious. If this book does not make you furious in disagreement, shout out loud in support, and change your mind about a topic at least once, you do not deserve to have an opinion.”
—end of Triangle review excerpt—
