Book Review: Rules of Attraction by Bret East Ellis

The Rules of Attraction by Bret Easton Ellis
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Bret Easton Ellis is one of the most successful and controversial contemporary authors, predominantly known for his most debated work - American Psycho (as misogynistic. An unnecessary debate, if you ask me. What do you think?). With the bone chilling character of Patrick Bateman brilliantly portrayed by Christian Bale on screen, both the book and the movie have achieved cult classic status.

His novels are known for the casual, unaffected narration of the extreme lives of his unique protagonists. Most of who are extremely rich, spoilt, racist, Caucasians embroiled in their first world frustrations, drowning away the existential crises that haunts them, in drugs, sex and alcohol, all readily available at the swipe of their shiny AmEx cards. This common thread enables him to weave a universe with recurring fictional settings and characters.
Rules of attraction is set in Camden College - where "Dressed to get fucked parties" are more the norm than attaining an education. The book opens mid sentence and ends similarly - signifying how there's no beginning or end to the stories of the protagonists. How the frustration, the emptiness, the lack of motivation to slip out of an ecstacy induced black out is a never ending loop. It is narrated by multiple narrators and Ellis remarkably uses the tool to portray how one event is uniquely interpreted by each party involved - each molding it to their own convenience. The narrators are often unreliable, with incidents that go against a desired narrative conveniently wiped out.
The book isn't a classic. It is 283 pages of sex, alcohol, drugs and dissatisfaction. But once you are done, it also makes a lot of sense. It captures the emotions of the lost generation of the USA in the 80s, as someone rightly mentioned, very similar to how Fitzgerald did in Great Gatsby. As one of his characters reflects, the seemingly silly problems of these kids that definitely warranted no importance in the larger realm of things, genuinely mattered to them, for who survival was never an issue.


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Book Review: Norwegian wood by Haruki Murakami

Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Norwegian wood was my second Murakami, first being Kafka on the Shore. Where Kafka was everything a Murakami novel is known for...Surrealism, a sort of melancholic grimness, mysterious characters who don't fit in in the world outside, oodles of unaffected but respectful sex to fulfil something that is just a mere physical need, and references to some classic literature and jazz music (about which I have no clue at the least, I won't pretend).... Norwegian wood is different but at the same time carries on with the general undertone of poignancy common to his work. (When I think of Murakami, I can only imagine a short silhouette of darkness that passes you by, head down, glassy eyed, unattached from the world that is mooning over him.) Norwegian wood felt different may be because even though at every turn of page I was prepared for fish rains and talking cats, none appeared. But instead you find men and women struggling in the search for something (identity, love, self esteem et cetera) they never really find. They are all conflicted as to why love always eludes them and that is a Murakami world right there.
It is the story of Midori who loved Watanabe who loved Midori but also Naoko who took her life as she was not over the death of her boyfriend Kizuki who killed himself for reasons unapparent. In between you have Nagasawa who cannot help being indifferent to Hatsumi, who cannot leave him despite the relationship constantly making her feel inadequate and unwanted, leading to her slashing her wrists after she marries another man. You get the gist. It is insanely grim and complex. But at the same time, it is unputdownable for the way Murakami creates magic with words. He drills a hole in your heart and stab you over and over but when you reach that last page, you are already dangerously involved in his painful world that rehabilitation to the real world is a slow process that requires a few days. Murakami, you monster! 😅


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Book Review: Breakfast at Tiffany's by Truman Capote

Breakfast at Tiffany's by Truman Capote
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

I first saw the perfect Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's many many years ago and remember being confused how someone could ever appear so flawless. A reviewer on goodreads voiced my thoughts for me and I quote "How could you be so much in love with a person who died long before you were born?". My Audrey Hepburn admiration peaked after I watched her in The Roman Holiday and Funny face. Yesterday I finished Truman Capote's novella based on which her most iconic movie was made and my respect for the actor in her and for the movie continues to grow.
There is no doubt at all that the movie remains my favourite. While the book was set in the 1940s, the movie was carefully adapted for the 1960s - a very sensitive era in the history of US, with the civil rights movement in full momentum. The ending has also been altered to offer the closure that was absent in the book. I am going to wrap up the comparison now with a monologue from the movie, a beautiful, needed addition to the book. "You know what's wrong with you, Miss Whoever-you-are? You're chicken, you've got no guts. You're afraid to stick out your chin and say, "Okay, life's a fact, people do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that's the only chance anybody's got for real happiness." You call yourself a free spirit, a "wild thing," and you're terrified somebody's gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you're already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it's not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It's wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself." - Paul Varjak (George Peppard, Breakfast at Tiffany's)


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Book Review: After Dark by Haruki Murakami

After Dark by Haruki Murakami


Why this total lack of respect for my need for closure, Mr. Murakami? 😅

After dark is my third Murakami after Kafka on the shore and Norwegian wood. If after Norwegian wood I could only picture Murakami as a 'short silhouette of darkness that passes by you, head down, glassy eyed, unattached from the world that is mooning over him', I now see him staring impassively over nighttime time Tokyo, unnoticed under a large black umbrella, reimagining lives of passerbys and how they intertwine once the world goes to sleep.

Murakami takes you on a journey in collective first person voice. He's not much of a talker. Instead, he walks a pace ahead of you and constantly reminds you that we are "sheer point of view and cannot influence things in anyway" . He flashes you the worlds of Mari, Eri, Takahashi, Koaru, Korugi, the Chinese prostitute and Shirakawa, but in a way that makes you invested instantly. His brooding encourages you to start conjuring up the crazy ideas as to how the messy knot would unravel at the end of the book. And he stomps on these expectations and walks away giving you an open ending.

But in a way, I am glad it is so. For instance, Mari is unable to sleep since her sister Eri can't seem to wake up. Eri is living nothing less than a fairy tale. She is both Sleeping beauty and Snow White. And you would hope that at the end of the overnight soul searching, as Mari climbs into bed with her sister, holds her tight, kisses her and urges her to wake up, Eri's eyelids would magically flutter open to a happy ending. But she sleeps on, unaffected by the tumultous night her sister had. Anything less would not have stayed in my mind for a week after I finished the book.

It is a constant reminder, just like Nell Zink's Nicotine, that may be this is what good books are supposed to do – 'give the comfortable reader a slap across the face and ask him to stop being a bore, help you evolve as a reader.'


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