I was returning some videotapes. (American Psycho book review)
What a great excuse, returning videotapes...not that anyone does that nowadays.
Anywho, I finally finished reading American Psycho. Bust out the balloons, huh?
I'm left wondering about the author. Just how did Bret Easton Ellis know all of these gory details anyway? How did he know what the human body would do if Patrick did certain things to it? ...you know, scratch that, I don't wanna know. It wasn't too sickening (to me, at least--I guess it all depends on what you can and can't tolerate) until Patrick started describing what he did to one of the escorts' bodies and how he tried to cook it. EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW. SICKENING. Cannibalism doesn't go well with a pretty much empty stomach. I'm just saying.
Anyway, I think I really did enjoy reading American Psycho. It was one of those books, I think, not developed according to the six steps of plot. Rather, it seemed more a slice of Patrick Bateman's life. (Yay for applying World Lit class.) Nothing was exactly resolved, there were a bunch of high points and low points rather than a story building up to a dramatic climax, and it just sets the reader down into a certain couple of years of Patrick's life.
Oh, and for those fans of the movie wondering whether or not to read the book--weeeeelll...a lot of lines in the movie were quoted directly from the book. There is a lot of material between those lines. Bateman goes off into long rambles about random things, and he also describes the outfits (and, by association, respective designers of said outfits) worn by those around him in GREAAAAAAT detail. It gets kind of...tedious, really, but it makes sense given his mental condition. Random. Rambles.
So honestly, although I think I liked the book...I can't put my finger on what I really feel about it. I'll give an update if I figure it out.
For a more personal update on what's going with me...see my next post.