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AMERICAN PSYCHO: 15
YEARS LATER By ADAM
GROVES
If you were a reader back in 1991, as I
was, then you surely recall, as I do, the furor that accompanied the
publication of AMERICAN PSYCHO. A
profoundly graphic, harrowing account of affluence and psychosis, it was
bounced by its original publisher Simon & Schuster after outraged
feminist groups leaked many of the book’s most gruesome passages.
This was despite the prestige of its author Bret Easton Ellis, who
became a literary darling after publishing the eighties mainstay LESS THAN
ZERO. AMERICAN PSYCHO, Ellis’s third novel,
ended up debuting as a Vintage trade paperback, to an astonishing amount
of controversy. The only
comparable example I know of in the publishing world was the appearance of
THE SATANIC VERSES a couple years earlier, which incited a media frenzy
after the life of its author Salman Rushdie was threatened by Muslim
extremists. In that instance
critics rushed to Rushdie’s defense, while their reaction to AMERICAN
PSYCHO was diametrically opposite (as exemplified by a venomous review
entitled “Snuff This Book!”).
The novel also inspired a number of
withering critiques from established horror writers, who in the words of
author Poppy Z. Brite (one of the book’s few defenders) viewed Ellis’
foray into upscale splatter as “upstart yuppie scum invading ‘their’
territory”. The genre
scribes Ramsey Campbell and James Kisner both savaged AMERICAN PSYCHO in
print--predictably, much of their criticism centered on Ellis’s reported
$300,000 advance, with Kisner pointedly asking “does that mean you have
to pander to mankind’s basest feelings to make any real money in this
business?” Stephen King
added his voice to the fray, publicly dubbing Rex Miller’s SLOB “twice
the book”.
Fifteen
years later the furor has obviously died down.
Recent editions of AMERICAN PSYCHO contain critical blurbs from the
likes of Gore Vidal and Katherine Dunn (whereas back in ’91 it was
difficult finding anyone willing to say anything remotely positive about
it) and a watered-down film version was released in 2000 to critical
raves. Even the horror
community appears to have made peace with it, judging by the book’s
inclusion in the 2005 anthology HORROR: ANOTHER 100 BEST BOOKS.
The irony is that AMERICAN PSYCHO remains every bit as relevant and
shocking now, if not more so, than it was back in 1991.
I read it when it first hit the scene, as a teenager, and my
reaction was much the same upon rereading it as a grown up.
Despite the plethora of “topical” references--to things like
Spuds Mackenzie, LES MISERABLES, Huey Lewis and the News, VHS videos and
Evian water--Ellis’s main targets are racism, hypocrisy, casual violence
and rampant materialism, all very much with us in 2006.
Perhaps this is why the book remains readily available today, even
as Ellis’s five or six other novels have largely vanished from the
public eye, if not from print altogether.
AMERICAN
PSYCHO, for those who don’t know, is the first person account of Patrick
Bateman, a twenty-six-year-old yuppie living in Manhattan during the late
1980s, a world Ellis, a longtime NYC resident, knows inside and out.
Employment-wise Bateman, in his creator’s own words, makes
“enormous amounts of money for doing basically nothing.”
As a narrator Bateman is a bit--okay, very--exasperating;
he tends to drone on and on about his grooming habits, choice of attire,
favored restaurants and what his equally materialistic companions are
wearing. He’s quite
fastidious in the latter aspect: nearly every character in the book is
introduced via an exhaustive appraisal of who designed their every item of
clothing and footwear, followed by equally exhaustive descriptions of the
boring conversations they have, making for long stretches of, essentially,
nothing.
Such, however, is the author’s aim--this is, as Ellis has frankly
admitted, “a very annoying
book.” That tendency
carries over into minutely described passages of sex and mutilation, in
which Bateman, in much the same way he describes his daytime lifestyle,
regales his penchant for cold-blooded murder.
His favored victims are bums (usually of the African-American
persuasion) and women he’s just screwed (or had bang other women while
he watched), whom he dispatches via knife, nail gun, chainsaw and a rat
that, in the book’s most notorious passage, Bateman releases into a
victim’s vagina. Even
though they don’t occur until over a hundred pages in, the nasty bits
are some of the most intense I’ve encountered in any book, rivaling
those of down-and-dirty authors like Sean Hutson and Edward Lee.
That’s in addition to sex scenes that wouldn’t feel out of
place in the most fervid pornography.
In spite of such excesses, though, or
perhaps because of them, Ellis
never loses his satiric edge. After
many of the more graphic passages Bateman offers pithy essays on his
favorite pop artists, which if you read closely contain a number of
revealing insights into the character’s psyche--particularly telling is
his dissertation on Huey Lewis and the News, in which Bateman touts “the
pleasures of conformity and the importance of trends.”
The joke, of course, is that Bateman, being the emotionless serial
killer he is, fits in perfectly with America’s elite, whose ingrained
racism and callousness are traits shared by most mass murderers.
The book’s critics have argued, not without some justification,
that Ellis belabors the point with his insanely drawn-out descriptions and
bloated 399 page length. Again,
though, it was Ellis’s stated intention to rub our noses in Bateman’s
excesses.
The film version by director Mary Harron (David Cronenberg and
Oliver Stone were both at various times slated to direct) is overtly
satirical and one-dimensional, toning down the sex and violence
considerably. This was
apparently enough for squeamish critics, who were far nicer to the movie
than they were the book. In
my view, however, Harron’s approach tarnishes the power of the novel,
which is a far more insightful, multi-faceted work than it’s generally
given credit for. I myself,
having read AMERICAN PSYCHO twice, find it alternately obnoxious,
repellant, boring, offensive...and undeniably provocative.
In spite of its annoyances, it’s a compelling account whose
insights have not dimmed with age.
Consider: in modern America the divide between the haves and
have-nots has widened substantially, while nearly every decision our
current rulers make seems designed to benefit the wealthy and powerful.
Patrick Bateman would definitely be proud.
He’d also be pleased, I’m sure, to see that Donald Trump,
who’s referenced throughout AMERICAN PSYCHO, not only remains in the
news but is now a network TV star.
In one particularly revealing passage of AMERICAN PSYCHO, Bateman,
in an introspective mood, observes “there wasn’t a clear, identifiable
emotion within me, except for greed and, possibly, total disgust.
I had all the characteristics of a human being--flesh, blood, skin,
hair--but my depersonalization was so intense, had gone so deep, that the
normal ability to feel compassion had been eradicated, the victim of a
slow, purposeful erasure.” Patrick
Bateman may be a creature of the eighties, but I believe he’d thrive in
today’s landscape--indeed, he’d probably be elected president.
--
8/6/06
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