Laith
This is my second reading, and I really never thought I'd open this book again. When I first cracked this in college my feelings were typical of the general reception to the book: I found it excessive in its violence and sadism, nihilistic to a fault; the only apparent goal seemed to be to shock the reader. In fact I don't think I made it past chapter 42 (Girl) in my first reading, I know I put it down thinking that what I was reading was truly appalling and that 41 chapters and the movie had driven the point home well enough. This book is just as appalling the second time through, but- and maybe because my sense for this stuff has been dulled by I Was Dora Suarez or maybe it's my increased exposure to rich white assholes- I found myself looking past the smokescreen of insanity and violence and realizing just how prophetically reflective this book is.
Given the popularity and fidelity of the film adaptation I doubt that I need to tell anyone what American Psycho is about; Patrick Bateman is a part of the zeitgeist, for better or worse. That said it's not difficult to summarize the book, it's the diary of a crazed yuppie serial murder; a sensory experience rather than a traditional story-a manic episode of a novel. In fact, based on interviews with Ellis that's precisely the intention with which he sat down to write what was initially conceptualized as a continuation of his prior works (Less than Zero and Rules of Attraction).
I won't quote directly but Ellis held firm to a belief that the only remaining frontier in literature was sensationalism for the sake of sensationalism. So he sought to craft a story which evoked in the reader extreme feelings, sought to provide otherwise inaccessible experiences that would addict and alienate. This is lost on anyone who wasn't 20ish in the early 80's but Ellis was a rock star, authors could be rock stars- back then you see, people used to read. His two prior books were supremely popular with the MTV generation- his first an instant bestseller and quickly adapted for film, his second getting the same treatment. Since Ellis was eighteen he'd been thrust into the limelight, his name on NYC guest-lists second only to Andy Warhol, his evenings out recounted to him secondhand by the tabloids. It's from the isolating, surreal, and indulgent cocaine-fueled lifestyle of success and celebrity that Ellis was living where we get the seeds of Patrick Bateman.
If I were to judge this book based solely off of intention and execution then I would have to give it full marks. It was one of the most banned books of all time, sold shrink wrapped in Australia- from a perspective of shock and awe this book is a tour de force. But obviously that's not the sole criteria on which anyone would judge a book; a novel is judged on the quality of its world and narrative not just its sensory effects. This kind of judgement based on sensation was/is typically reserved exclusively for pieces in a visual medium, which begs the obvious question, are we to take this plainly repulsive and horrifying thing that Ellis made and treat it as a piece of art? This is the lens through which most people digest this book, as piece of concept art, a discourse of aesthetics.
That discourse is a surface level one, one that could be had with any other piece of transgressive lit. But, American Psycho captured the public's attention like nothing that came before. Unlike Crash or Naked Lunch, books which garnered immense critical praise and eventual cult popularity, Psycho ascended past cult status and into the mainstream almost immediately and its popularity has endured since- Why? Why is it that this specific piece of literature has shifted into mainstream awareness when all the other equally good-equally sensationalist pieces are just cult obscura in the modern day?
The simplest answer is that AP is shallow and accessible on its surface- this is a book about a consumerist serial killer in the 80s. Consumerism bad, Bateman bad, 80s bad, world is bad. It's not just a reflection on and of the culture of the time, it's also made for that self same culture- a kind of cultural Ouroboros. You don't even have to read through the whole thing to get yourself there, the themes may as well be printed on the dust jacket they're so loud. The magic of American Pyscho isn't in the portrayal of white collar douche-bags, for me it's what's subtly buried beneath the noise.
In many ways, despite its immediate popularity, this is a book that's waited for the current moment to unfold itself. What is Patrick Bateman if not the archetype of the modern conservative operator? It was lost on me in the initial reading, partly because the culture and political gap between left and right wasn't as wide at the time. But take a look at the the exchange on politics in the first chapter, it is eerily close to what you'd hear at CPAC today, and the orators not all too dissimilar from Bateman:
But we can’t ignore our social needs either. 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.
Bateman is plainly echoing the classic circular talking points that had already worn themselves out at the time of AP's publishing. The reader knows Bateman doesn't give a single care about anything he's talking about, he's saying what he says because he believes it to be the "correct" answer. Deep down at the core of Patrick Bateman is an all consuming void, he's an automaton in the thrall of his cyrenaic pursuits. His politics like his person are the mask by which he disguises his contempt for humanity and lust for power/control/violence.
There's also his incredibly coincidental obsession with Donald Trump, the man he views as paragon and benchmark. Is it coincidence? Ellis was likely in the first wave of NY socialites put off by Don's gaudy mien and rapacity, who better to symbolize the kind of person Bateman is than the Barron and his golden toilet. The fact that Ellis's icon of social rot became the President and pseudo-deity of the corrupt and malformed can't be coincidence. Ellis knew where we were going, I think he saw what American society valued and sought to paint its portrait. Like a modern day Stańczyk sat in his chair, Ellis presents us with truth dressed as the absurd, animals in clean and pressed Armani suits- something for us to ogle and gasp at, to mock and reference and laugh at- though he's the only person not laughing, the ever ironic Jester.
This is a completely different book from what I first read, though I think the point remains the same. American Psycho is a looking glass into a part of reality that is just not accessible from the normal vantage- it's nihilistic and insane, but that's the rub, the world is the same way, and just like Bateman the very worst of it hides in plain sight. This is fascinating and horrible, if you make it past the blood and gore you'll walk away with plenty to think about.
This is my second reading, and I really never thought I'd open this book again. When I first cracked this in college my feelings were typical of the general reception to the book: I found it excessive in its violence and sadism, nihilistic to a fault; the only apparent goal seemed to be to shock the reader. In fact I don't think I made it past chapter 42 (Girl) in my first reading, I know I put it down thinking that what I was reading was truly appalling and that 41 chapters and the movie had driven the point home well enough. This book is just as appalling the second time through, but- and maybe because my sense for this stuff has been dulled by I Was Dora Suarez or maybe it's my increased exposure to rich white assholes- I found myself looking past the smokescreen of insanity and violence and realizing just how prophetically reflective this book is.
Given the popularity and fidelity of the film adaptation I doubt that I need to tell anyone what American Psycho is about; Patrick Bateman is a part of the zeitgeist, for better or worse. That said it's not difficult to summarize the book, it's the diary of a crazed yuppie serial murder; a sensory experience rather than a traditional story-a manic episode of a novel. In fact, based on interviews with Ellis that's precisely the intention with which he sat down to write what was initially conceptualized as a continuation of his prior works (Less than Zero and Rules of Attraction).
I won't quote directly but Ellis held firm to a belief that the only remaining frontier in literature was sensationalism for the sake of sensationalism. So he sought to craft a story which evoked in the reader extreme feelings, sought to provide otherwise inaccessible experiences that would addict and alienate. This is lost on anyone who wasn't 20ish in the early 80's but Ellis was a rock star, authors could be rock stars- back then you see, people used to read. His two prior books were supremely popular with the MTV generation- his first an instant bestseller and quickly adapted for film, his second getting the same treatment. Since Ellis was eighteen he'd been thrust into the limelight, his name on NYC guest-lists second only to Andy Warhol, his evenings out recounted to him secondhand by the tabloids. It's from the isolating, surreal, and indulgent cocaine-fueled lifestyle of success and celebrity that Ellis was living where we get the seeds of Patrick Bateman.
If I were to judge this book based solely off of intention and execution then I would have to give it full marks. It was one of the most banned books of all time, sold shrink wrapped in Australia- from a perspective of shock and awe this book is a tour de force. But obviously that's not the sole criteria on which anyone would judge a book; a novel is judged on the quality of its world and narrative not just its sensory effects. This kind of judgement based on sensation was/is typically reserved exclusively for pieces in a visual medium, which begs the obvious question, are we to take this plainly repulsive and horrifying thing that Ellis made and treat it as a piece of art? This is the lens through which most people digest this book, as piece of concept art, a discourse of aesthetics.
That discourse is a surface level one, one that could be had with any other piece of transgressive lit. But, American Psycho captured the public's attention like nothing that came before. Unlike Crash or Naked Lunch, books which garnered immense critical praise and eventual cult popularity, Psycho ascended past cult status and into the mainstream almost immediately and its popularity has endured since- Why? Why is it that this specific piece of literature has shifted into mainstream awareness when all the other equally good-equally sensationalist pieces are just cult obscura in the modern day?
The simplest answer is that AP is shallow and accessible on its surface- this is a book about a consumerist serial killer in the 80s. Consumerism bad, Bateman bad, 80s bad, world is bad. It's not just a reflection on and of the culture of the time, it's also made for that self same culture- a kind of cultural Ouroboros. You don't even have to read through the whole thing to get yourself there, the themes may as well be printed on the dust jacket they're so loud. The magic of American Pyscho isn't in the portrayal of white collar douche-bags, for me it's what's subtly buried beneath the noise.
In many ways, despite its immediate popularity, this is a book that's waited for the current moment to unfold itself. What is Patrick Bateman if not the archetype of the modern conservative operator? It was lost on me in the initial reading, partly because the culture and political gap between left and right wasn't as wide at the time. But take a look at the the exchange on politics in the first chapter, it is eerily close to what you'd hear at CPAC today, and the orators not all too dissimilar from Bateman:
But we can’t ignore our social needs either. 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.
Bateman is plainly echoing the classic circular talking points that had already worn themselves out at the time of AP's publishing. The reader knows Bateman doesn't give a single care about anything he's talking about, he's saying what he says because he believes it to be the "correct" answer. Deep down at the core of Patrick Bateman is an all consuming void, he's an automaton in the thrall of his cyrenaic pursuits. His politics like his person are the mask by which he disguises his contempt for humanity and lust for power/control/violence.
There's also his incredibly coincidental obsession with Donald Trump, the man he views as paragon and benchmark. Is it coincidence? Ellis was likely in the first wave of NY socialites put off by Don's gaudy mien and rapacity, who better to symbolize the kind of person Bateman is than the Barron and his golden toilet. The fact that Ellis's icon of social rot became the President and pseudo-deity of the corrupt and malformed can't be coincidence. Ellis knew where we were going, I think he saw what American society valued and sought to paint its portrait. Like a modern day Stańczyk sat in his chair, Ellis presents us with truth dressed as the absurd, animals in clean and pressed Armani suits- something for us to ogle and gasp at, to mock and reference and laugh at- though he's the only person not laughing, the ever ironic Jester.
This is a completely different book from what I first read, though I think the point remains the same. American Psycho is a looking glass into a part of reality that is just not accessible from the normal vantage- it's nihilistic and insane, but that's the rub, the world is the same way, and just like Bateman the very worst of it hides in plain sight. This is fascinating and horrible, if you make it past the blood and gore you'll walk away with plenty to think about.