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8 of 9 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
outstanding, 28 Jul 2003
an outstanding piece of writing. the rules seem to state that if ‘a’ likes ‘b’, ‘b’ will not like ‘a’, but ‘c’, who, in turn, will not like ‘b’, but ‘d’, ad infinitum. thus Lauren likes Victor, who seems practically unaware of her existence. Paul likes Sean, who, illuminatingly, screens Paul almost completely out of his personal narrative. Sean likes Lauren who, as noted, likes Victor. one might think that the main characters deserve to botch any attempt to get together with the real objects of their romantic lives, given how unfaithful they are, and how casually they treat sex, which is mostly done drunk, and with whoever’s to hand. however, faithful romantic love is dismissed as futile too – the most romantic of the narrators, tellingly never named, ends up despairing, and committing suicide.Easton Ellis uses the different narrative voices in the novel very skilfully to demonstrate how the same events are viewed differently by different people, how people can read each other wrong, and interpret events and other people wrong, in particular, altering or concealing the truth to suit their own needs and self-image. though all the characters are almost entirely egotistical in their approach to life, Easton Ellis writes from inside his characters, rather than outside: the writer does not sneer at his characters, and, overall, invites the reader to see them as products of their environment. the main characters are confused and unhappy about life, without really knowing why, or how to make themselves happy. they wearily return to what are supposed to be life’s pleasures - sex, drugs, parties – because they don’t know where else to turn. nor are any alternative pleasures suggested by the novel. any idealism about the pleasures of art, for example, is soon crushed: Sean thinks Lauren’s poetry is rubbish; Lauren’s poetry teacher is a pitiful, lecherous creature; the characters who talk about art do so in such a pretentious way as to make art seem meaningless. nor do any of the characters find any kind of redemption. the way the novel starts mid-sentence and ends mid-sentence is a useful stylistic device to point out that what we are seeing here is merely a snapshot of a recurring sequence of episodes – these same type of events will just keep happening, parties, drugs, casual sex, parties, drugs, casual sex, parties … for me, Easton Ellis falters slightly only at one point, when one of the characters improbably stops and considers why we should care about the pain of these rich kids, when their pain often occurs as the result of such trivial incidents. pain, we are told, depends on circumstances, and is as relevant if the result of not being able to book a table at one's favourite table as of anything else. here the author’s voice comes through a bit too strongly, i think – Easton Ellis loses his lightness of touch when he attempts didacticism. but, this is only a slight blip in an extraordinary novel.
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by Bret Easton Ellis
by Bret Easton Ellis
by Bret Easton Ellis
by Bret Easton Ellis
by Bret Easton Ellis
