Book Review - 'American Psycho' by Bret Easton Ellis

When ascribing meaning to any art form, be it visual, musical or literary, context is of paramount importance. The scandalous novel of ninety years ago, today lines bookshop shelves as a nostalgic literary classic; the risqué painting of yesteryear is now mass-produced and hung on a million walls worldwide.

Eighteen years since its publication, Bret Easton Ellis' 'American Psycho' remains a significant novel of western society, undiluted despite its two-decade history. Any novel examining the soulless nature of capitalism and materialism has only to be read in the context of the current recession we're wading through, to resonate with modern readers.

The story of 'American Psycho' is now firmly ingrained in popular culture, thanks largely to the Christian Bale film of 2000. Whether you've read the book, watched the film or discussed it with your friends, the name Patrick Bateman is as famous as the author who created him.

Young, successful, extremely rich and devilishly handsome, Patrick Bateman leads a life where no luxury is spared. He dines at the most desirable of restaurants, fulfils his sexual desires with a string of attractive and successful women, lives in an exclusive apartment and has every material object that his heart desires. Bateman is also a murdering psychopath.

The graphic, sadistic and sexual nature of Bateman's murderous rampages are one of the most distinguishing features of Easton Ellis' debut novel. These evocative descriptions of depraved bloodlust scandalised a world upon the novel's release, and although society has undoubtedly become yet more de-sensitised since 1991, the uninhibited torture scenes and violent passages remain disturbing to this day.

But it's easy for such a contentious issue to detract from the novel's, arguable main, theme. In Bateman's world, all human interactions have been stripped down to materialistic components. His relationships with women are based purely on pursuing unattainable physical attention. All relationships with peers, since they surely cannot be deemed as friendships, revolve purely around materialistic one-upmanship – who has the better clothes, who has reservations at the most exclusive or restaurants, who has the most expensive business cards – the limits of obsessive neurosis are unlimited.

On a psychological level, the most obvious feeling we're supposed to have is one of shock and horror at Bateman's depraved homicidal acts. The beauty of 'American Psycho' however, is its ability to lay the most base of horror and evil before us, whilst using this as a mere backdrop to the 'real' terror of the materialistic life that Bateman leads. A world devoid of any genuine human interaction, emotion or feeling whatsoever – something that our desensitised society ironically finds infinitely more terrorising than the thoughtless murders and tortures of human beings – real food for thought.

A revolutionary novel, 'American Psycho' is a vivd commentary on the materialistic times we live in and one that remains as relevant and accessible today as it did two decades ago. The graphic nature of this novel makes it difficult reading for anyone who's not as desensitised as the soulless characters that populate this novel. If you can stomach scenes of an extremely violent nature however, and are looking for an important novel that makes a poignant comment on the social mores of modern society, 'American Psycho' is an important work of literature that's not to be underrated.

Book Review - 'Factotum', by Charles Bukowski

Sat on a gloomy and lonely Brighton beach, chained to the shackles of a mundane retail job, having just made the decision to move back home to my mother as I could no longer afford to live in London – this was the backdrop to my first brush with Bukowski – how beautiful is nature’s irony. Before I had left the Big Smoke, a dear friend had given me a copy of ‘Post Office’, saying that I would relate to the lost musings of a poet chained to the shackles of a mundane job and an alcoholic drink – how right he was.

Whilst that moment now exists as a memory, my fascination with the enigmatic Bukowski remains as vivid and alive as it did back then. Those new to the author may wish to start off by reading the aforementioned ‘Post Office’, however this particular book review concerns the late, great man’s second book, ‘Factotoum’.

Following the book’s protagonist, Henry Chinaski, on a tour of menial jobs, alcoholism and desperation, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Bukowski is indeed drawing upon his own experiences in writing this unique novel. Full of amusing anecdotes and ‘real’ experiences (the blurb states that no-one has covered ‘being down and out’ as well since George Orwell), Factotum is easy to read and full of a thousand different stories that keep the reader hooked from start to finish.

Whilst all of Bukowski’s novels are laced with realism and portray a remarkable underworld that the majority of us will never experience (thankfully or not, depending on your personal outlook), it’s the resigned sadness of Bukowski’s situation that shines through in a novel that should be so much more wide-read than it is.

Bukowski’s shortcomings are obvious to all who read him – laziness, alcoholism, womanising - however it’s his honesty and resigned acceptance of his lot in life that makes the reader empathise with him, making his stories pack so much more of an emotional punch.

Whilst ‘Factotum’ may not be for the prudish amongst us (its coarse language and graphic descriptions of sexual encounters push the boundaries of the status quo’s ‘accepted literary boundaries’) it most definitely paints a picture that so many more people should appreciate.

As previously stated, if you’ve never read any Bukowski, ‘Post Office’ is the natural starting point, and if you’ve read this book already, you don’t need a review to tell you how essential Bukowski is. All I can say in summary, is that as the publishers state, grinding their agenda as there are, Bukowski is one of the most unique voices literature has ever seen – love him or hate him, you cannot deny him this accolade.

Book Review - 'Night Has 1000 Eyes' by Cornell Woolrich

Cornell Woolrich (here writing under his oft-used ‘George Hopley’ pseudonym) has often been described as the ‘master of suspense’ and on this showing, the moniker is justly attributed.

Detective Tom Shawn is making his way home one night along the riverside and saves Jean Reid from a suicide attempt. As they start talking, Jean relays her fears concerning the sanity and life of her father. It transpires that a local clairvoyant has foretold Mr Reid’s death at the jaws of a lion, an alarming statement considering all of this strange man’s predictions have thus been proved true. A suspenseful story ensues as Shawn and Reid battle to save her father as the date of destiny fast approaches.

Despite being a gripping story in itself, this novel is a wonderful example of Woolrich’s artistic language and beautiful mastery of the noir genre. From the very first page we are plunged into an intense pulp fiction world, with Shawn’s innermost thoughts and feelings laid bare against a sensually descriptive noir landscape.

As one enjoys the delicate prose and evocative language, the reader is soon swept up in the story, masterfully spun, and set on a rollercoaster ride of suspense as the story reaches its climactic finale.

Cornell Woolrich is a wonderful author just waiting to be discovered and there’s no better book to discover him with than this one. ‘Night has a Thousand Eyes’ is a vital addition to any collector of quality noir fiction.

Book Review - 'The Jewel of Seven Stars' by Bram Stoker

When a writer’s name becomes synonymous with one truly classic piece of literature, it’s easy to forget that there will of course, have been many more strings to their bow. ‘The Jewel of Seven Stars’ is one such example in the portfolio of famous Irish writer Bram Stoker, creator of cultural icon, ‘Dracula’. ‘The Jewel of Seven Stars’ is set in the opulent high society of Edwardian London at the home of Professor Trelawney, famed archaeologist and Egyptologist.

Published in 1903, much of British society was at the time infatuated with Egypt and the East, providing this novel with its key cultural references and societal backdrop. Agents unknown attack Professor Trelawney within his home and TJOSS starts off innocently as your classic turn of the century ‘whodunit’. Beautifully and evocatively described, the book sees worried daughter Margaret call for the assistance of her willing admirer, dashing lawyer Malcolm Ross (the development of their ensuing romance is a key and enjoyable theme throughout the text), seeking help as her father lays in a trance.

As the book progresses, it shifts from classic crime to supernatural thriller. Upon his awakening, Professor Trelawney brings the characters into his confidence and confirms their fears – the attacks are occurring due to the displaced Mummy Queen Tera, stored as a trophy in Trelawney’s study, awakening in preparation for her re-birth. The novel ultimately shifts to Cornwall as the protagonists aim to complete the awakening and I shall desist from discussing any more of the plot for fear of spoiling the ending, which in my opinion, is the only let down in an incredibly enjoyable book.

Whilst Dracula is the superior text of the two, TJOSS is much easier to get into from the off and a thoroughly enjoyable Edwardian romp. The novel stands on its own feet in terms of story and plot, however the book also offers an incredibly detailed look at Edwardian society and the advancement of archaeology and subsequent interest in Egypt and the East, which make it worth the read in itself. I really do count this as one of my favourite books and consider it a travesty that so few know of it.

Dracula may indeed be the seminal work that Stoker is rightfully associated with, but TJOSS is right up there with it and deserves the attention of discerning readers worldwide. Thoroughly recommended.

Book Review - 'The Beetle', by Richard Marsh

Published in the same year as Stoker’s ‘Dracula’, and incidentally, more popular at the time, ‘The Beetle’ is an atmospheric and chilling piece of gothic Victorian Literature that is often (and unjustifiably) usurped by its literary cousin.

In writing ‘The Beetle’ and giving life to an evil protagonist, eminent Victorian novelist Richard Marsh created a despicable embodiment of horror quite equal to Stoker’s blood-sucking vampire. Plunged straight into a world of gloomy horror from off, the initial pages reveal a vivid and genuinely disturbing account of terror that remains as fresh and effective as it did 112 years ago.

Taking up the multi-narrative format indicative of the period, the novel proceeds to build nicely, weaving a complex yet easy-to-follow plotline that points towards the mysterious past of an eminent politician – a shady past that is evidently to account for the current morbid occurrences that plague our cast of likeable characters.

Unravelling mystery after mystery, the book reads extremely well and Marsh has to be credited with building an exceptional state of tension and anticipation. The finale is nothing short of epic, clawing at and subsequently shredding the reader’s senses and nerves as it reaches its dramatic, evocative and rewarding ending.

Having consumed this book avidly over a week, I have to say that ‘The Beetle’ is an excellent piece of literature that remains able to cause chills despite the desensitised nature of modern readers. Another example of late Victorian / early Edwardian fascination with all things Eastern and oriental (see Stoker’s ‘The Jewel of Seven Stars), this is a thoroughly readable member of the gothic school, and fully deserves a reputation equal to ‘Dracula’. Highly, highly recommended.