A review by pansy_ass
American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis

5.0

A stirring and thoroughly disturbing account of material obsession and personal desensitization, this book bled me of every ounce of humanity (but thankfully not every ounce of my ACTUAL blood, as many of the pretty young things in this novel were), challenged the depth of my empathy and, if I'm being candid, aroused me in the most depraved of ways.

Patrick, my darling, you are one sick son of a bitch. And I can't exactly tell if I want to dissect your brain to look for a tumour, a blood clot or any other aberration that would account for your insanity, sit you down over a tumbler of J&B in an attempt to pry every single thing from your mind like none of your paralleled characters ever did, or beat you to death for your atrocities.

Probably all three. But...not in that order.

One thing I can surely and securely say Pat Bateman has taught me over the course of 399 pages and however many typed characters is the monotony life truly is. And although my dissatisfaction with reality has yet to tally up a body count, who knows what will transpire in the future? Who knows who out of all you fine, lucid-looking individuals is secretly an American Psycho?

Food for thought.