“I had all the characteristics of a human being—flesh, blood, skin, hair—but my depersonalization was so intense, had gone so deep, that my normal ability to feel compassion had been eradicated, the victim of a slow, purposeful erasure. I was simply imitating reality, a rough resemblance of a human being, with only a dim corner of my mind functioning”
Well, I finished it. And I kind of wish that I could erase all memories from it.
I'm kind of in an odd mix of opinions about this book. Part of me sees the genius behind it. The look into excess, the pitfalls of capitalism, the inhumanity of humanity, (blah blah) through a (delusional?) yuppie serial killer is fascinating. However, there were parts of it that were miserably dull. Does ANYONE need to read endless diatribes about Whitney Houston, Huey Lewis & the News, or overly descriptive details of every item purchased by pretty much the entirety of Manhattan? No, no we don't. I don't even know how to process my thoughts on Bateman's murder scenes. But again, Ellis was able to write them in such a way that you could visualize everything. Everything. The electrocuted breasts, exploding vaginas (eyes, breasts, stomachs, etc. if it could explode, he exploded it), chewed off nipples, fingers... Just no. As Patrick's mania escalated, so did everything else and it just got to the point where it just got too excessive even for a book about excess. There is no denying the Ellis' skill level though.
So, would I recommend this? I have no clue. There was something oddly fascinating about it and I think the idea behind it is incredibly smart, but it isn't exactly a book that I could ever actually recommend anyone to read.
Side note. How ridiculous is it that Gloria Steinem's step-son starred in a movie in which the main character completely dehumanizes and viciously rapes and murders numerous women? What did you do today, Christian? "Oh, I just acted out a scene where I picked up two hardbodies, had a threesome and then brutally murdered them, raped & ate their corpses. You?"