Modest Success and an Avoidable Spiral: A Review of The Men Can’t Be Saved
As a junior copywriter, Seth recognizes that words can be very powerful. Unfortunately, he has not realized that the same is true regarding his actions. Ben Purkert’s debut novel, The Men Can’t Be Saved, is a sardonic take on toxic masculinity, narcissism, and capitalism, particularly corporate life. Full of comedic witticisms and led by a bafflingly overconfident protagonist, The Men Can’t be Saved pulls the reader in with the promise that yes, Seth’s hubris can cause him to sink even lower, but ultimately fails to garner sympathy for a lead whose depravity is only juxtaposed with the misdeeds and arguably less egregious vices of others.
The Men Can’t be Saved follows Seth, a junior copywriter in New York City whose tagline for an unlikely client was part of a viral television ad. Despite his inexperience, Seth interprets his brief success as proof that he is destined for corporate greatness. Convinced of his superiority, Seth is incapable of owning up to his mistakes, choosing instead to blame others’ perceived insufficiencies for his own failures. Seth’s journey is less one of self-discovery and more one of escalating delusion and self-destruction akin to the American reboot of the television series, Shameless. However, the novel’s messy drama is half the fun, as many of its characters have a callous, opportunistic side to their morality.
Take Robert “Moon” McCloone for example, a misogynist, crass, unprofessional partner at the firm whom Seth is assigned to work with on an unappealing assignment. To Seth, Moon represents everything wrong with the corporate world: he is lazy, he curses and shouts at clients who don’t immediately accept their proposals, and worst of all, he just does not get it like Seth does. For some reason, Moon is convinced that Seth is his friend, despite the glowing neon signs that Seth only tolerates him so he can use him.
The problem with Moon is that he’s presented as a caricature for most of the novel, with his only slightly redeeming qualities being his strange generosity towards Seth and his respect towards Seth’s parents. Beyond that, Moon spends half the novel treating women like objects, which Seth disdains but is equally as guilty of.
Perhaps that’s the point; perhaps the novel’s title truly is a simple condemnation of men in general. But what about the women? One stands out in particular: Josie, a sexually promiscuous older woman whose work ambitions and disloyalty to her partner rival Seth’s and Moon’s, respectively. Josie is constantly humbling Seth, who does not realize that he is the one being used in their relationship until he has already hit rock bottom. Josie is the one who succeeds where Seth has failed and never faces the consequences of her actions.
Perhaps that’s the point; perhaps the novel’s title truly is a simple condemnation of men in general. But what about the women?
So, what does this say about Purkert’s opinion on the corporate world? If men like Moon are rewarded and promoted despite their crass dispositions, are women like Josie more likely to succeed by playing along? Does success come for women like Josie by sleeping with the right people, or is her ascension of the corporate ladder simply the fruits of her labor? Unfortunately, Purkert never provides an answer.
Overall, The Men Can’t be Saved is a humorous debut that provides entertainment in mapping its protagonist’s downward spiral through baffling character decisions complimented by clever wordplay. For readers who enjoy a satisfying narrative full of introspection tied neatly with a conclusive, neat bow, this is not the novel for you.
The Men Can’t be Saved is a frustrating, albeit enjoyable, read at worst; at best, Seth’s story is a cautionary tale for men who could use some introspection without experiencing their own aforementioned spiral, an admonishment of men whose misplaced confidence and ambitions precede the needs and feelings of others.