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.

All this text is art thing culminates in what I feel is the best part of the book – a more traditional narrative that forces you to question what is real or imagined. Did he really kill Owen? Was it someone else who did it? Was Owen, even, in the first place, dead? And if Bateman didn’t kill Owen, then exactly how many of those murders did he actually do?

While I enjoy Palahniuk’s brand of transgressional fiction, which I find a whole lot more cohesive, American Psycho feels like a huge loose end (which is normally a Bad Thing) but I have to constantly remind myself that that’s the point as you are dealing with the nature of a mad man. Again, it’s that whole “art” thing. Bah.

I’m still kind of torn in deciding if its a “good” book or not. It was a disturbing, thought-provoking read, but I disliked how I got so intensely bored at points, or that I didn’t have a clear handle on what was happening, but as noted above that’s the whole point as it’s art, etcetc.

I enjoyed my American Psycho experience but I don’t think I’ll be re-reading it, even if I were in the habit of re-reading books. As another reviewer said, “its brilliance lies in its uniqueness and the incredible manner it was delivered in”. I don’t think I could openly recommend it to the casual book reader.

From what I can tell, I think it may be darker than the film (which I must rent from the video store at some point). I found myself thinking Bateman-like thoughts throughout the day while reading the book. The passages on fine dining that were littered prominently throughout the book had the effect of drilling (hah!) into me the way food should be written about, and while writing a food review at a fine dining establishment I ate at recently, I had to resist, quite consciously, writing in a Bateman-like style. Maybe I’ll do it anyway.

*They were disturbingly fascinating, but I found myself wondering if particular acts were physically possible. For example the exploded boob scene. Is it possible for the fat to splatter so? And is it possible for blood to spatter so? I might have watched an episode of Mythbusters where they said there was a very limited time frame for blood to spray out at such high force before the pressure dies down because of lack of blood. The rat scene was also horrifyingly creative.

** One can actually pick up quite a lot of useful men’s dressing tips from it. From the detailed monologue on water, I learned that it’s possible to have natural sparkling water, too. Whodatunk.

*** Boredom that drives you to such utter depths that you UNDERSTAND why people must be killed.

P.S. I have to work in the phrase “…fills me with a nameless dread” into daily conversation more. And it’s too bad the process of renting videos – driving to a store, filling in the forms for video store membership, paying for rental, and remembering to return the videos on time – fills me a with a nameless dread (hah!) because I’d also like to work in “I have to return some videos” into daily conversation.