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puppygirl_cryptid 's review for:
American Psycho
by Bret Easton Ellis
dark
reflective
sad
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
It started out really good. I could get into it and as someone who absolutely loved the movie, I recognized many elements from the adaptation and from where they had taken root. This book truly works best during the endless, pointless, borderline tiring tirades of Bateman about fashion, returning videotapes and what kind of generic pop music he’s currently obsessing other.
The surrealist nature of many of the novel’s most significant moments work marvelously to make you - as the reader - feel like you’re falling into a haze yourself, as if you’re diving into Bateman’s head and losing yourself in how little sense anything really makes. At times I had to think back to the movie though, as personally, I believe it handled those situations much better and more succinctly - but I leave that up to contention.
The true peak of this book is - in my mind - fully embodied and encapsulated within the chapter “End of the 1980s”, where Bateman, during a conversation with his secretary, keeps falling into internal monologues, thinking about himself, the futility of it all, considering a relationship with the secretary, and ultimately, brings his own depersonalization to a verbal climax. It’s amazing. It’s the final conclusion to all the pointless nonsense that he has buried himself in, the clearness of thought - for but one chapter - that nothing that he does ever really leaves a mark. Even better than that chapter isn’t the end, but still followed by a few others that are a lot less meaningful. Ending on“This is not an exit.” is pure genius and I couldn’t have thought of a better last sentence myself.
Now, my major gripe with American Psycho and also Brett Easton Ellis is his treatment of women within some of the chapters. I understand that the violence and brutality are a huge part of Bateman and his story, but I contest that it actually wasn’t all that necessary to describe all that torture and rape in such explicit detail. At a certain point, I stop caring what your intentions are if those are your methods. You have to realize how it feels reading passages like that as a woman, when you’re writing them as a man. To add an afterword (in this version at least), complaining about “angry feminists” and being turned into a misogynist is missing the point of the criticisms directed at this novel by such a long shot and it made me lose any respect I had left for this author.
Listen, the book is good. At points, it’s great, and at others, the best novel I’ve read in a while, but there are just certain elements of the whole thing that make me not want to recommend it to anyone ever. Especially since the movie adaptation by Mary Harron is just so much better, and we’re slated to get a new adaptation by Luca Guadagnino.
The surrealist nature of many of the novel’s most significant moments work marvelously to make you - as the reader - feel like you’re falling into a haze yourself, as if you’re diving into Bateman’s head and losing yourself in how little sense anything really makes. At times I had to think back to the movie though, as personally, I believe it handled those situations much better and more succinctly - but I leave that up to contention.
The true peak of this book is - in my mind - fully embodied and encapsulated within the chapter “End of the 1980s”, where Bateman, during a conversation with his secretary, keeps falling into internal monologues, thinking about himself, the futility of it all, considering a relationship with the secretary, and ultimately, brings his own depersonalization to a verbal climax. It’s amazing. It’s the final conclusion to all the pointless nonsense that he has buried himself in, the clearness of thought - for but one chapter - that nothing that he does ever really leaves a mark. Even better than that chapter isn’t the end, but still followed by a few others that are a lot less meaningful. Ending on
Now, my major gripe with American Psycho and also Brett Easton Ellis is his treatment of women within some of the chapters. I understand that the violence and brutality are a huge part of Bateman and his story, but I contest that it actually wasn’t all that necessary to describe all that torture and rape in such explicit detail. At a certain point, I stop caring what your intentions are if those are your methods. You have to realize how it feels reading passages like that as a woman, when you’re writing them as a man. To add an afterword (in this version at least), complaining about “angry feminists” and being turned into a misogynist is missing the point of the criticisms directed at this novel by such a long shot and it made me lose any respect I had left for this author.
Listen, the book is good. At points, it’s great, and at others, the best novel I’ve read in a while, but there are just certain elements of the whole thing that make me not want to recommend it to anyone ever. Especially since the movie adaptation by Mary Harron is just so much better, and we’re slated to get a new adaptation by Luca Guadagnino.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Rape, Sexual assault, Sexual violence, Violence
Moderate: Homophobia, Racial slurs