May 4, 2013:
I couldn't finish this I'm afraid. Too much racism, sexism, homophobia, materialism, narcissism etc etc. It just wasn't for me.

May 26, 2013:
I really dislike leaving a book unfinished so after some consideration and some gentle nudging from a GR friend, I decided to finish reading the book. After reading the remaining chapters, my rating hasn't changed; I still dislike the book. Yes, the title does clearly suggests psychotic events will be found in the book but I wasn't ready for the extreme graphic descriptions of brutality depicted. They are honestly the most brutal I have ever read, and as I am a very squeamish person, there was no way I was ever going to enjoy this book.

I also got bored by the repetitive descriptions of food and fashion. I understand why the author felt compelled to put them in but it got annoying after a while.

What I did like were the few chapters that discussed 1980s music icons. Whitney Houston and Genesis in particular. I love 80s music and so I enjoyed those chapters a lot.

Well, I am proud of myself for placing myself outside of my reading comfort-zone! I don't think I will ever read another book similar to this one.

in my manic pixie dream girl era

Gran libro, me ha impactado. Tiene tantos detractores como admiradores, yo me encuentro en la segunda categoría, reconociéndole el gran mérito literario, no había leído nunca algo tan crudo ni por asomo.

Creo que he somatizado un poco. Me sorprendo pensando en el libro tras cerrarlo, he soñado incluso.Me propuse leerlo sin saltarme una línea y a pesar de lograrlo no estoy muy satisfecho tras el resultado. Hace falta tener alguna tuerca suelta (el autor) para llegar a este resultado, casi nadie se atrevería a intentar esto.

A ver si pongo orden sin hacer spoiler. B. Ellis pinta un personaje absolutamente aborrecible, un sociópata de manual, bueno, mejor psicópata, más bien: insensible a la más mínima empatía con nadie. Un tipo superficial y vacío, materialista hasta el extremo, obedece tan solo a estímulos económicos, sin el más mínimo complejo por su incultura, ni interés que no sea cuantificable económicamente. Es inculto, pero a un tiempo inteligente. Solo responde a la marca de traje, corbata equipo de alta fidelidad y cuestiones por el estilo, al igual que los hombres y mujeres de los que se rodea, es decir, lo más alejado posible a la forma que personalmente tengo de ver las cosas… y sin embargo ese odio visceral que acumulas durante toda la novela te hace valorar aún más si cabe al autor, que es capaz de meterse en la piel de un personaje tan despreciable, vacío y de catadura moral tan baja.

Me gusta el estilo, el retrato que hace de aquella raza que surgió a finales de los años 80 llamada popularmente yuppies, en este caso un yuppie particularmente siniestro y llevado al extremo:

·        Lo mejor de todo es el ritmo narrativo. Cada capítulo es una especie de fotograma suelto dentro de una película completa. Un capítulo termina y el siguiente ni mucho menos comienza por el fin del anterior: aunque la correlación temporal es lineal, nunca sabes en cuanto tiempo va avanzando, días o semanas; otras veces nunca más detalla como continua la historia tras un episodio siniestro. Lo cierto es que la novela va claramente de menos a más.

·        Otra marca propia: la forma de describir a los personajes, detallando todas las marcas de su vestimenta. Para describirlos resulta más importante indicar la marca de reloj que lleva, por ejemplo, que hacer una descripción del tipo en cuestión si es alto o bajo o moreno o flaco.

·        Los diálogos extremos que hasta mitad del libro mantiene el protagonista con gente como él (no quiero hacer spoiler, pero algo así: “me gustaría meterte un puñal ahora mismo en mitad del pecho”), les parece decir a la cara situaciones que nunca jamás se le dirían a nadie, y me queda la duda si el autor quiere significar que da igual lo que se digan unos a otros porque nadie oye nada de lo que dice su interlocutor, esa es al menos mi interpretación): no se aclara si es un pensamiento del prota o si es algo que se dice realmente, lo cierto es que el resultado es soberbio y viene a significar lo que decía, y es son tan fatuos los que dialogan, que da exactamente igual lo que el contrario le diga, que le quiere degollar, por ejemplo, ya que no le está escuchando y el solo se escucha a sí mismo.

·        Lo mismo ocurre con algunas circunstancias chocantes, un tipo va con un chubasquero ensangrentado por NY tras un asesinato, o con la ropa con sangre en una fiesta o con un cadáver envuelto en un saco de dormir dentro de un taxi. Con todo esto te preguntas si se trata de un esquizofrénico, o si como decía, da a entender al lector que en NY podría ir un tipo sin cabeza andando por la calle, y nadie le prestaría la menor atención.

·        Otro detalle de esta despersonalización y valoración extrema del dinero, es que unos personajes a otros se llaman por nombres erróneos, confundiendo continuamente los que tienen un poquitín más de estatus a los que tienen un poquito menos. Lo más gracioso es que nadie se molesta en sacar del error al otro.

·        En 1990, hace más de 30 años, el mito de todos ellos es Trump: el dechado de virtudes, buen gusto y referente de todo lo chic. Esta faceta visionaria de Ellis sobre lo cutre, zafio y de mal gusto, me resulta alucinante que ya hace tanto tiempo viera en Trump este peligro y culmen de lo hortera, vulgar e inculto (podía seguir con mil adjetivos más, racista, machista, clasista, etc).

Ha habido un elemento extraliterario que me ha impedido ponerle 5*:  la cuestión es que las descripciones extremas y hechos extremos que narra, que son lo que hace más grande esta novela totalmente diferente, es precisamente lo que me impide puntuar al máximo, digamos que me provoca cierto rechazo. Nunca me gusta puntuar así, pero en esta ocasión es lo que siento. La máxima puntuación, las 5* las dejo para aquellos a los que adoran el género de terror extremo y demás, que no encontrarán una novela igual.

I would write a review, but I have to go return some videotapes.

*******************

OK, I was gonna let the inside-joke above stand, but I guess I do feel like getting some thoughts down about America's Next Top Psycho.

At this point I'm sure it bores everyone to dredge up the whole misogyny question again, but it still puzzles me that smart people who must certainly know not to confuse the character's perspective with the author's continue to pull the concern-troll card here. Like, it's perfectly valid if you think the satire in the book fails, or even if you think the violence is overwrought, but anyone who thinks this book is misogynistic must also believe that Mark Twain was racist for using the word "nigger" repeatedly in Huck Finn. You can't and won't convince me that there's any meaningful difference.

Of course, what's unfortunate about the "does this book hate women" discourse is that it blocks discussion of the hundreds of pages of this book that do not contain violence towards women or men. One thing that surprised me (going in, as I did, with various preconceptions) was that Patrick Bateman is not really the cartoon character that Christian Bale portrayed in the movie. I mean, my memory of the film is dim, and I know that Bale was great in it, but on the page Bateman is a lot scarier because he's self-aware. You can't just dismiss him as an easily mockable artificial construct or a satirical avatar of Ellis's anti-yuppie vitriol, because you're living inside his head for 400 pages, and it's clear that he knows exactly what he is -- and, more disturbingly, he seems to be the only character in the book for whom this is true. I think that's the elephant in the room that people who talk about American Psycho either don't understand or don't wanna face: Bateman, as monstrous as he is, is actually the hero of this story. He's the only one who speaks directly and listens to people, while everyone else is off in their own solipsistic haze; he's the only one who seems to have any interests beyond the rank materialism of snazzy clothes and trendy restaurants, it's just that those interests involve sadistic torture and murder; he's the only one with any apparent concerns about the world and his place in it. Given the utter voidlike vapidity of every single person in this novel, it's not unreasonable to say that Bateman is the only one with a soul. That is the truly frightening thing about this book, moreso than any of the torture-porn scenes.

Personally, I prefer the tragic simplicity of Ellis's Less Than Zero. Psycho can be repetitive and, I think, inconsistent -- is the eloquent, charming Bateman of the first chapter's dinner party really the same guy as the Bateman who can't complete any basic social interaction without begging off to go return some videotapes? Maybe it's just his descent into total madness, but something about the evolution of the character felt improvisatory on Ellis's part. The other thing that's mostly missing here, which is why I think it's ultimately inferior to Less Than Zero, is the subtly calibrated pathos that made the earlier novel such a knockout. Without resorting to speeches or explanations, Ellis expressed in Less Than Zero a deep sadness that belied the narrator's affectless tone. In American Psycho, there was really only one moment that felt like the kind of grace note I loved in the earlier book, and I'll paste it here: We had to leave the Hamptons because I would find myself standing over our bed in the hours before dawn, with an ice pick gripped in my fist, waiting for Evelyn to open her eyes. That's the most beautiful sentence in either book, maybe the only truly beautiful sentence Ellis has ever written -- his strengths as a writer do not really include handsome prose. It's such a chilling image -- not a visceral horror like the infamous rat scene, but something that hits you right in the soul, something that, again, makes it impossible to domesticate Bateman by laughing at him. I wish there was more like it.

But in the absence of that, there is plenty to laugh at; I loved the book's comic centerpiece, an all-night conference call between Bateman and a few of his buddies as they spend hours trying to figure out where to eat dinner. It's the kind of marathon absurdism I love, like Mr. Show's Story of Everest bit, where you can't believe how long the joke is being dragged out, and eventually the dragging-out becomes the joke, to the point that you get irritated, but then the joke laps your irritation and you find it hilarious again. Bateman's lone encounter with law enforcement (actually a P.I.) is played for laughs instead of suspense (a smart move given Ellis's total lack of interest in any kind of narrative momentum), in one of the weirdest and funniest of the dialogue scenes. And it never stops being funny when Bateman will straight-up admit, in plain English, that he is a mass murderer, and his conversation partner will not register his confession at all -- because Ellis's most abundantly clear point is that people in this culture did not (do not?) listen to each other, at all, even a little bit.

So nah, I don't think this is a Great American Novel, or the Great Gatsby of the late 20th century (as one Goodreads reviewer floated), although I do think that's what Ellis was going for, in his own sick way. But twenty years later it's still stirring up debate, and if that's not a mark of good litterachurr I dunno what is.

“...there is an idea of a Patrick Bateman, some kind of abstraction, but there is no real me, only an entity, something illusory, and though I can hide my cold gaze and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable: I simply am not there.”

This book was bananas! Strap in and let it take you for an unhinged ride. It’s hilarious and clever and offensive and annoying and gory and ridiculous back to hilarious. The read repeats like a Groundhog Day so you may find yourself skimming through - all the times a character’s outfit is described, every time the word “hardbody” is used, every mention of The Patty Winters Show (yes, I googled this to see if it was real, it is not, but there is a London indie pop band with the same name), also the 7 pages about Whitney Houston’s music (Girl I love ya, you were truly one of the greats, but ya know, we're talkin' about working out, drinking Cristal, and killin' people right now…), the 6 pages about Huey Lewis and the News (their music really wasn't that good) and I would mention more but… I have to return some videotapes.

In honor of my American Psycho read, I watched the 2000 film starring Christian Bale and made an appointment to try a Rage Room. I’m going to smash things like a psycho, I hear it’s therapeutic.

THIS IS FULL OF SPOILERS - FULL TO THE BRIM. THESE ARE SOME MUSINGS THAT IN NO WAY RESEMBLE A BOOK REVIEW. YOU CAN READ IT, BUT I AM TELLING YOU STRAIGHT UP - THERE WILL BE SPOILERS.

actually, it's not that bad, spoiler-wise.

paul bryant recently reviewed/revised his review of this book (hi, paul bryant!) and i read it and the dozens of intelligent remarks his negative review sparked, both pro and anti-this book, and there isn't anything i can add to the discussion that hasn't already been said by people far wiser than little old me, but because the review made me think about this book, i decided to add my two cents. and that's all it is - just some thoughts about a book i haven't read in years, but remember really liking and feel, for some reason, compelled to defend.

the assertions that this book is misogynistic demand a response. patrick bateman kills women. he also kills men. and animals. if he could kill a robot, i guarantee you he would give it a try. is there something i am not understanding here?? he's a serial killer. misogyny is really the least of his character flaws. and even if he is misogynistic, it is the character that is misogynistic, not the book, which does not portray him as a hero of any kind. and even the people who are not killing other people are pretty shitty. bret easton ellis and neil labute should probably never hang out, because it would be a real downer.

the fact that this novel is written in first person means that everything is happening through a sociopathic filter. it is only one character's perspective, and things are going to necessarily be dark dark dark because of this. did i mention he is a serial killer?? and not a cuddly one like dexter, either.

and if you tally it all up, he kills the exact same number of men as women, but some of the women get more...extravagant murders. is this what makes it misogynistic, or is this simply a standard of the genre?

in the eighties, when i was a little girl, i would wander through the video section of this department store while my mom paid for stuff. and the horror section was the one that always drew me over to get my little frisson of creepiness. and back in the 80's, before movies became a little more subtle, every single vhs box featured a girl in a bikini covered in blood or a men's dress shirt without trousers, screaming. this is just how the horror genre rolls - women, girls, are portrayed as vulnerable targets for the killer. i'm not saying it's the healthiest of all genres, for the socializing of our people, but that's just the way it is, baby. and the genre has certainly become more sophisticated, even in the slasher subsection of horror, but at the time, these were horror's rules.













and i know - i know - the rat scene. when i first read this book, that scene made me have to take a little break, put the book down, and stare at something safe. since then, i have read much much worse in books, but at the time, it really affected me. and how awesome is that??!! from a book!! from a reader's perspective, it is amazing that a book was able to give me such a visceral reaction.from a writer's perspective - honestly at that point in the narrative, it was the only thing he could do to show bateman's escalation. i hate to say "nothing else would do", but at that point, the desensitization has taken root pretty deep in the reader, and the only way to increase the tension is something unprecedented and monstrous.

and i totally agree with p.b's reaction to seeing the bookseller's placard regarding the book. but just because it appeals to men who probably already have these feelings towards women, does that make the book to blame?? and really, aren't there just as many damaged women who buy into this shit? tucker max is, i think, as dangerous to women as bateman - but there are tons of women throwing themselves at him. if there weren't women in this world with no problem being exploited, there would be no girls gone wild. i'm not saying that world wouldn't maybe be better, but it's not the world we have.

it is so easy to have a knee-jerk reaction to this book, it is, but it isn't even the most disturbing book on the block: joyce carol oates has a book called zombie, and there is of course cows, which caris has just endured, the one boris vian book i read was pretty rough. it's not a new story, but i like the way ellis tells it the best.

and it is more than 50 pages of chopping girls up. it is about the way he chops them up. at first, you are on board, because it is a book, and you knew what you were getting into, reading a book called american psycho. you bought it - you thought it would be entertaining. did you? well, how do you like this?? still here?? okay, now i am going to throw this at you?? still retaining your readerly disconnect?? what about this?? yeah- it's the rat scene. still with us?? yeah, i didn't think so.

writer wins.

it is the same experiment as the movie funny games. i have seen the original and the american and was bored by both of them. this is because i am able to compartmentalize my emotions when i read and when i watch movies. the message of those films, yeah i totally understand and i admire them for being made. but - lord- are they ever boring to watch. but the same thing there- for people who were traumatized by funny games. you know what it was about when you went to see it. if you were appalled by how it felt to basically watch a snuff film, maybe you should have gone to see something else.

the best moment in this book is the abrupt switch from first to third person. i love this. nick cave does it (and better) in and the ass saw the angel, and i love the dizzying effect it has on the reader - the moment where you have to stop and say, "oh, yeah, this motherfucker is crazy"

i don't think bret easton ellis is a great writer, but i think with this one, he accidentally wrote a great book.or at least effective. can i call it effective? any book that can cause such polarized reactions from readers is wonderful in my eyes.

that was probably more than two cents, but i am feeling pretty flush today...

come to my blog!

American Psycho, Bret Easton Ellis

American Psycho is a novel, by Bret Easton Ellis, published in 1991.

The story is told in the first person by Patrick Bateman, a serial killer and Manhattan businessman.

Set in Manhattan during the Wall Street boom of the late 1980's, American Psycho follows the life of wealthy young investment banker Patrick Bateman.

Bateman, in his mid-20's when the story begins, narrates his everyday activities, from his recreational life among the Wall Street elite of New York to his forays into murder by night.

Through present tense stream-of-consciousness narrative, Bateman describes his daily life, ranging from a series of Friday nights spent at nightclubs with his colleagues—where they snort cocaine, critique fellow club-goers' clothing, trade fashion advice, and question one another on proper etiquette—to his loveless engagement to fellow yuppie Evelyn and his contentious relationship with his brother and senile mother.

Bateman's stream of consciousness is occasionally broken up by chapters in which he directly addresses the reader in order to critique the work of 1980's pop music artists.

The novel maintains a high level of ambiguity through mistaken identity and contradictions that introduce the possibility that Bateman is an unreliable narrator.

Characters are consistently introduced as people other than themselves, and people argue over the identities of others they can see in restaurants or at parties.

Deeply concerned with his personal appearance, Bateman gives extensive descriptions of his daily aesthetics regimen.

After killing Paul Owen, one of his colleagues, Bateman appropriates his apartment as a place to host and kill more victims. ....

تاریخ نخستین خوانش نسخ اصلی: روز بیست و هفتم ماه سپتامبر سال 2015میلادی

عنوان: روانی امریکایی؛ نویسنده: برت‌ ایستون الیس ؛ مترجم: محمدرضا شفاهی؛ تهران انتشارات میلکان، ‏‫1398؛ در420ص؛ شابک9786226573559؛ موضوع: داستانهای نویسندگان ایالات متحده امریکا - سده 20م‬

روانی آمریکایی رمانی هنجارشکن از «برت ایستون الیس» است، که نخستین بار در سال 1991میلادی به چاپ رسید؛ زاویه ی دید داستان، اول شخص است، و توسط «پاتریک بیتمن» که پیشه‌ور و قاتلی زنجیره‌ ای در «منهتن» است روایت می‌شود؛ اقتباس سینمایی این فیلم با بازی «کریستین بیل» در سال 2000میلادی پخش شد؛ کتاب در بسیاری از کشورها برای جوانان زیر هجده سال قدغن شده است

تاریخ بهنگام رسانی 07/04/1400هجری خورشیدی؛ ا. شربیانی

Pre-review:

So Bret Baston Ellis wanted to write the script for the 50 Shades of Grey movie!? (Link: https://www.theguardian.com/film/2012...)

My reaction to it: HELL YES! You can simply insert Patrick Bateman directly into Christian Grey's place and you most likely won't even be able to tell the difference because these two people are just interchangeable! Let's be honest, Bateman is a creep and a douchebag who treats women like crap, and isn't Grey just the same?

I'm so upset to hear those Hollywood people eventually laid Ellis off!

Edited@04/05/2017

What I'd learned from reading this novel: You don't have to be a serial killer in order to be a complete and ugly asshole.

You think this book is about a bunch of rich and self important yuppies going through their expensive yet meaningless life in New York? You are right.

You think this book is about a psychopath serial killer preying on women and other helpless people (e.g. POC and poor and/or homeless people)? You are right.

You think this book is about the flaws in the neo-capitalism's mindset? You are more than right!

n  
n  “...there is an idea of a Patrick Bateman, some kind of abstraction, but there is no real me, only an entity, something illusory, and though I can hide my cold gaze and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable: I simply am not there.” n  
n

I won't lie, the violence, the misogynism and the poor attitude toward poor people (especially people of colors) in the story is difficult to stomach but I guess it's the exact point of this story? It is scary to think a certain group of people who are so well educated, cultured and well off (just think about all the goods these people could have done with their wealth and knowledge) can be so shallow, unconcerned and 'none-fuck-given' at the exact same time. But let me repeat, if there is one thing I had learnt by reading this book: n  You don't have to be a serial killer in order to be a complete and ugly asshole who just goes around ruining other people's lives with your money and power.n

And Patrick Bateman, even though he is hateful and he can be every bit as egoist and shallow as his rich friends, he is still the only one in the story who is trying to tear his own expensive but empty existence apart and going out of his way to mock everything and everyone around him with his terrible action. For that, he is a highly interesting character!

PS: There are TONS OF name-dropping and brand-dropping in this novel, even Donald Trump got mentioned a lot (and Ivanka Trump was also brought up a few times) in the MC's narration too.

n  American Psychon is one of the most, if not the most, misunderstood novels that’s ever rocked the literary world. No matter which way you look at it, structurally it is a masterpiece of literature.

When I was a teenager I would recall hearing from people around me that there is a brilliant film based on a violent novel about a crazed serial killer in New York. I remember buying the novel a few years after watching the film adaptation starring Christian Bale (who I now realise was perfect for the role of Bateman in an otherwise decent adaptation) and people told me that I would throw it away by page 200 because of the graphic sex and violence in the pages. Ironically, these were the same people that enjoyed the works of, say, Thomas Harris, James Ellroy and Jim Thompson. All these authors have written incredibly dark and gory books which crossed the established line, regarding violence in novels. For example, James Ellroy’s fantastic book The Big Nowhere is, amongst other things, about a violent sex murderer in 1950’s Los Angeles. These murders are highly detailed, bloody and disturbing, which works so well for Ellroy’s brutally dark piece of noir fiction. Jim Thompson’s The Killer Inside Me is about a small-town sheriff who also happens to be a sociopath and sadist. But why didn’t they like American Psycho?

So what separates American Psycho from the previous novels I mentioned? Everything. American Psycho is a literary paradox. It’s not genre fiction like the previous novels. It’s not even about a serial killer. It's more cerebral than that. I’ll go further and say it’s not even a character study. American Psycho is more about America itself than a fictional serial killer. It is about the moral and cultural decline of societies that value materialism, consumerism and global capitalism. In other words, American Psycho is a postmodern satire in the grand tradition of Thomas Pynchon, Kurt Vonnegut, Nikolai Gogol and also moonlights as a serious work of absurdism and existentialism.

"Abandon all hope ye who enter here is scrawled in blood red lettering on the side of the Chemical Bank near the corner of Eleventh and First..." *

Bret Easton Ellis is undeniably great at misleading his readers, as countless reviews from professional critics see it as about an 80’s yuppie misogynist and his murderous escapades. Scottish writer Irvine Welsh sees it in ways that are similar to my own views: ‘American Psycho holds a hyper-real, satirical mirror up to our faces, and the uncomfortable shock of recognition it produces is that twisted reflection of ourselves, and the world we live in… distorted by individualistic consumer capitalism… the running metaphor is one of a culture succumbing to a materialist consumerism that destroys society by eradicating its human values in favour of an obsession with image.'

So if you think of it this way, American Psycho is exactly what it says on the front cover: It’s about psychotic America. Bret Easton Ellis is seeing it from his perspective, as an American living in a highly consumerised, neo liberal state which emphasises and prioritises all the wrong things. Patrick Bateman is literally the embodiment of America:

n  “We have to stop people from abusing the welfare system. We have to provide food and shelter for the homeless and oppose racial discrimination and promote civil rights while also promoting equal rights for women but change the abortion laws to protect the right to life yet still somehow maintain women’s freedom of choice. We also have to control the influx of illegal immigrants. We have to encourage a return to traditional moral values and curb graphic sex and violence on TV, in movies, in popular music, everywhere. Most importantly we have to promote general social concern and less materialism in young people.”n

This is a segment of his, and what could be America’s, proud and ironic message at the start of the novel. The projection of an idealistic America is shown through Patrick Bateman's obsession of a fictional talk show The Patty Winters Show, which is seen as a friendly topical TV show on world issues and debates. Characters speak about restaurants, clubs, holidays, or anything that involves paying with money, as if rehearsing for a promotional advertisement. If anything, Bret Easton Ellis is giving us a strong message about what his book is all about, and what it is not about. Turning a blind eye is the human being’s worst trait, but Bret Easton Ellis as Patrick Bateman isn’t ignoring these messages: he’s reversing them, playing with them, effectively showing the reader everything that is wrong with society, and is therefore enhancing the shock value. It is this violent shock of recognition that, through the subjective lens of the reader, shows the depravity and corruption not only of America, but of any country that embraces capitalism and mass consumerism.

The characters themselves are less characters and more machines of materialism, devoid of emotions and feelings. They are essentially blank faces, blank physiognomies dressed up in pretentiously expensive designer suits. Narrated with a cold outlook, this reflects the emotionally void world we live in. Every human being populated in this book is a void soul floating through our physical reality, aimlessly wandering in existential fashion, evoking the footsteps of Mersault from Albert Camus’ The Stranger. This is why American Psycho is described as a piece of literary nihilism. Bret Easton Ellis depicts the world as an emotionless place, where the characters are abstract entities, simply being representations of monetary value and material wealth, rather than a thinking, breathing animal of heightened consciousness. The author has intentionally avoided describing things with artistic emotion; instead everything Patrick Bateman describes comes across as stilted and sounds unnatural. This observation is notable when Patrick is describing a piece of expensive art in his home to friends in a fancy restaurant:

n  “Well, I think his work… it has a kind of… wonderfully proportioned, purposefully mock-superficial quality.” I pause, then, trying remember a line from a review I saw in New York magazine: “Purposefully mock…”n

Everything is purposefully described as if from a package or magazine. As a satire, it’s the author’s job to make the world hyper-real and more exaggerated in order to show the reader the morality of the book’s message. American Psycho is, incidentally, much more of a moral piece than anything else.

Despite the novel’s dreamlike quality, surrealism and almost metaphysical presence, it is isn’t about whether the killings were real or not, and Bret Easton Ellis has refused to answer that question, simply because it would turn the novel into something completely different from its original self. The killings are, in some way, massive metaphors for the author to release his rage and frustration upon the world. Incredibly detailed violent scenes again shock us and disturb us and the author’s message is obscured in this haze of bloody violence and torture. Bret Easton Ellis has stated on numerous occasions that he was going through a dark and bitter period of his life whilst writing this book. He got financially wealthy from the success of his previous novels, moved to New York and lived a yuppie-like lifestyle, which he thought would make his life better. He has also said that his father was abusive to him when he was a young boy. So when things add up, Patrick Bateman’s violent actions were Bret Easton Ellis’ way of releasing these deep-rooted frustrations and bitterness upon the world. Again, American Psycho’s fragmented structure fits perfectly as the author’s concern of the world around him is satirised and is also interspersed with autobiographical liberation. Combine them together and you have this book. The violent content is actually rather limited, as only roughly 15 pages consists of bloody violence in a 400 page book.

So is American Psycho really about a serial killer? Despite being visceral, I don’t think so. Has Bret Easton Ellis got a message for us all? I do certainly think so. The book is a masterful black comedy and a violent wake-up call to the reality around us. Is that why they don’t like the book?



* - This is the very first sentence of the book. Is the author sending us a message in the very first sentence? Incidentally, this chapter is called 'April Fools'. Is Bret Easton Ellis making out that this is a book about a serial killer the 'April Fools' joke? A delightfully smart little tactic to lure the reader into a false sense of awareness? Because we now know that this book isn't about a serial killer...

When I first read it about 2 years ago I absolutely hated it, see my old review below.
I was curious of rereading it now as my reading taste has changed and I'm more into very unlikeable characters and darker topics now. I wouldn't say I love the book but it is very successful in making the characters feel very awful and horrific even without the killings. It was intense following through his tought, behavior and life.


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Review from 2022.

I haven't hated a book with such a passion in a long time. This book contains heavily with rude and obscene language that adds nothing to the story. I'm no prude but I think loaded words should be used with a purpose rather than been slanted all over the pages. Some might think that's what make anstöt dark, grim and intense but only a few writers i e read have been successful using that kind of strategy and Bret Easton Ellis is not one of them. The overall story does not hold it either, I just found it to be a bloody mess without having a scary nor nail-biting feeling at all. Have not seen the movie and most likely won't.
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I got little less then 5 hours left of this audiobook but I've decided I need to put it down for good. As beloved the book and movie are it's to much for me and I'm not finding anything positive continue with the story. It rather make me feel a bit uncomfortable.

Literature is a mysterious thing, you read catcher in the rye and brood over the concept of the death while Mark Chapman assassinates John Lennon. You read American psycho and think about the materialism while some another yuppie idolizes Bateman, all excessively narcissistic.

Bret Easton Ellis might’ve had some sick ideas in his brain, so he writes it as an allegory for something else; Or, he really did hate the 80’s American yuppie culture and this is the best thing he could come up with.
Either way it makes sense in a weird way.

Patrick Bateman is a shallow cavity which sucks everything out there in his world, Music CDs, moisturizers, hardbodies, facepacks, video tapes, Donald Trump, chainsaws, axes, rats, cats, dogs, women, men, all flesh and brands. Rich, homeless, African, Armenian, American, everything. You don’t really find people in his head. A fancy suit and ‘talking-walking women/men’ aren’t any different. They’re all materials.
And what's scary is, he’s not alone,he talks with bunch of people who’re all his alter-egos in a way, all hardbodied-well-paid-good- looking men with same barbers.

“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”

Every character in BEE’s book I read so far is apathetic, hedonistic, pessimistic, nihilistic, suicidal, homicidal and everything immoral. They cut throats, slit wrists and act all normal, not a bit fazed or perturbed.
His writing is something I seem to love, most of his books are pointless; this neutral, cold, flat, non-pretentious writing is basically why I tend to pick his books.

The narration changes from first person to third person in the same sentence, around page 280. Is this supposed to imply it’s all in his head? It’s clever that author keeps things all vague, you go on and conclude yourself. I've written everything sick i could so far. You find the hidden meaning; which might not exist

If you take away the violence and murders, there’s a sick world left out.

Alright, this is easily the most violent novel I’ve ever read. The torture and cannibalism scenes were difficult to stomach. It was a journey to see Bateman become perpetually insane and how his interactions with his acquaintances changed throughout the book. My only real complaint that I have about the book is the amount of… filler, for lack of a better word