Inspired by Ellis’s vision, it possesses the trashy allure of MTV’s micro-drama Undressed. At most, you neither sympathize with them nor desire to be in the characters’ shoes, for sure. For grown-ups, it’s all a bit foolish. The sole genuine dilemmas revolve around whether you can truly confide in a friend. They don’t constitute authentic predicaments, but that merely establishes a fitting backdrop of extremity; people overdose and parents have relinquished all accountability. Numerous indirect thrills and thrills for a teenager: it portrays a realm where parents are perpetually absent, money is never a concern, drugs are always abundant, and everyone is up for sexual encounters with one another. It appears very much like a young adult novel, relying on the reader’s fascination with and overall lack of perspective on the world of extravagant indulgence it portrays. Even as a 15-year-old, however, I struggled to envision any grown-ups reading the book or taking it seriously.
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It seems extremely speculative to read Clay’s projections of alienation as a counter to the explicit intent that we take all the lament and moral turpitude. But inside his head, there might be something weird, like scenes of gold mines serving as a metaphor for depravity. Although it may seem bizarre, he earnestly pouts about dumping his girlfriend and snorts a quarter-gram of cocaine with his high school buddies before walking out of a room. It is expected that these events, which involve 12-year-olds being raped and snuff films, carry significant emotional freight for even the most detached readers. Surprisingly, the novel’s conflicts, which take place amidst horrible events, are surprisingly mundane. Despite the melodramatic and unconvincing nature of the incidents, the novel is generally regarded as an approximation of Joan Didion or Raymond Carver’s style, with an authenticity that serves as a badge of its badness. It is not surprising that readers rush to view the novel in its unexpurgated form, given the eagerness with which Ellis wrote it, considering his age. However, the level of writing in the book is fairly uneven, and the apathy of youth and decadence are portrayed in a sort of kind this as out novel.
It is implausible that Ellis would explain it too much. If readers were to do something without noting how appropriate their condition was, they would still register the book better. Rather than endorsing them unthinkingly, Ellis would be unnerved by these and in a better book, he would endorse them. There was no interiority, no redeeming qualities, and no successfulness in the book, especially after all the repetitions of slogans and hamfisted snatches from billboards. Without these, it would have been much more successful. Clay’s feelings imply that we are supposed to empathize with him, but it often feels mawkish in passages that are entirely set in Zero Less Than. However, it seems like he was told to leaven it with mawkish passages. The narrator, who is supposed to be Clay’s brother, seems to have no moral culpability and participates in evil scenarios in a cartoonish way, while narrating their own vapid and contemptible personality. It’s a different type of American Psycho from what I suspect Ellis’s ploy was. The narrator’s records of positive reviews and demented scenes of gory murder later in Ellis’s novel seem to foretell the incongruous tonal juxtapositions of Psycho American.