So I read Imperial Bedrooms today. Because I finally decided to read Less Than Zero recently. I think I’m probably a fan of Bret Easton Ellis now. I still want to read Rules of Attraction because I’ve seen the movie a bunch of times and really liked it. Same goes for American Psycho. Why does everyone always want to make movies out of this poor guy’s books?
Anyway, Imperial Bedrooms was pretty great. I know it’s short, but even still… for me to read 170 pages without blinking? Mister Ellis has achieved something amazing, even though he’ll never realise it. I’ve only read that much in one day on one other occasion, when I was reading Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close.
I’ve pretty much destroyed my dyslexia. I mean, I have pushed through it. My reading is getting faster, my comprehension is like… working. And I’m feeling good about it. I never really read books when I was young because it was really hard for me to concentrate, and the words were always jumping around the page on me. I don’t think this is happening too much anymore. And when it does, I find it easy enough to just reread a couple of lines and move on. Cool.
But yeah. The depravity of this book was fun. The last ten pages totally through me out of my chair and stomped on my chest with heavy boots. I like when people aren’t afraid to embrace the evil inside. I figure, even if it’s all fiction, it all starts with a thought. And so I appreciate the courage it takes to communicate that thought to the world outside. And now I’m inspired to write a book about buying teenage fuck-slaves, and the scatty torture that inevitably ensues. I like entertaining bad thoughts, I find it relieving. I’d never kill anyone, but thinking about it can be a lot of fun.
So now I’m gonna go reread Slaughterhouse Five and see if I don’t hate it this time, now that I’m not 12 years old anymore.