There’s a chapter here involving crack and BMW engines that’s probably the most riveting experience I will ever have reading a book

Bret Easton Ellis, truly a powerhouse author, goes from 0 to 1000 in this introspective Into the upper class lifestyle of a New York financer as his life spirals into his insanity the crescendo is award-winning and should be talked about scholars from here until the end of time.

Definitely not for everyone, but I found a lot to appreciate about it. It has the most sadistic violence I’ve ever read, so don’t assume it’s just generic murder that you can handle. It’s interesting how the character doesn’t try to explain himself or justify anything, or tell you what to think. At times he’s sympathetic, at times he’s unspeakably monstrous, and simultaneously he keeps being amusing and surprising.

I don’t get the fuss. Definitely disappointing and boring.

Though the long monologues Patrick finds himself stuck in, and his unfailing need to describe clothes, are difficult to get through, the entire book is a work of art. Slowly watching, reading, a character unravel all the while going through his daily, though bizarre, tasks was amazing to experience. The gore/deaths are painful yet enticing and the story never lessens. A favorite of all time.

I feel like I will become an actual psychopath if I read this again

This is the first major novel I have read in a while, and I was quite intrigued when I hit the last page. There were moments like in the chapter “Genesis” where Bateman is just listing out albums and songs, where I was laughing so hard, then there were instances like in chapters such as “Killing Child in Zoo” where I just felt deathly allergic. This is an amazing satire, definitely not recommended to the faint of heart, but recommended if you want to read something complex and laid-back.

Impossible to follow. I have no idea why this is so popular other than someone wanting to read the few gory bits of it. What a waste of reading time.

Unlike the high standards I had for this book, it didn’t seem to be of any value. Most space was taken by inner monologues of clothing brands and filled space of scenery, there was no true defined point, other than the implied consumerism “American dream” trope, this book doesn’t really dive into madness, however displays the gory imagery of the after effects of the characters doings.

I’d seen the movie before reading this and there are so many more details to Patrick’s insanity that it didn’t delve in to. This book is seriously messed up and I love it. It takes intrusive thoughts to another level.