333 words on Books
I finished reading Bret Easton Ellis' glamorama earlier this week.
I wasn't exactly suprised by the book as I had read American Psycho some time ago and didn't really like it for its very repetitive listing of brand names, which seemed to take up half of the book and the very graphic and explicit description of the violence which was a bit sickening. I actually like the film's æsthetics much better. With all the violence being present - but only in your head rather than on the screen. Also, recently I read Less Than Zero which was quite impressive in portraying such disaffectionate people.
glamorama seems to mix all of the aspects in a balanced way. Disaffection is there, as is a tolerable amount of brand-naming and still - IMHO - the violence is just that bit too graphic (but I can't watch an episode of ER without having to look away every now and again). What I enjoyed most is the seriously twisted state of mind of the protagonist, completely blurring the line between film sets, his memory, reality etc.
It seems impossible that I will ever get out of this house. Under my breath I'm telling myself, It's just another scene, it's just another phase, like it's a lyric from a song that means something.
"Do you think I'm lying?" I ask.
"No, no," Bobby says. "I just think there's a hole in your truth."
"Well, what do you want to hear?" I ask, daring him.
He ponders this, then simply turns back to the computer screen. "I think I've decided to listen to something else."
"What does that mean?" I ask.
"You want it translated?" he mutters. "Sober up. Learn your ABCs"
"I'm just trying to have a so-called normal conversation," I say.
"I don't think you're being particularly successful," he says.
"I'm not going to be put off by your negativity," I'm saying, teeth clenched. "Later, dude."
The director glances up at me and nods, once.
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