
Ellis’ 1991 cult hit, which the 2000 movie of the same name was based on, is an adventure into the inside workings of the mind of Wall Street yuppy serial killer Patrick Bateman. I found this first person narrative piece of transgressional fiction hard to read at times, not for the gory scenes,* but because of the utter banality involved in the detailed clothing descriptions** and, oh, those passages on music, which I quickly flipped through. But it’s all okay, because that’s the point of the book – it’s not a traditional narrative but is more akin to art, the sort that evokes an emotional response, not through direct visuals but through text. The very fact that one feels such utter boredom*** is a success on its part.
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