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Book: Lunar Park ~ Bret Easton Ellis

From the famed author of Less Than Zero, American Psycho, Glamorama and The Rules of Attraction comes this latest work, Lunar Park. I haven’t read anything by Ellis in a while and when I noticed this attractively covered hardback in the window of a Books etc. in passing one day, I purchased it immediately, excited at the prospect of getting into the mind of Ellis once again, despite how fraught with horror (if you’ve read American Psycho you know what I mean) that pursuit might be. So, some days later, on a routine tube journey to work, the reading began. 30 minutes later I had already begun to form an opinion of this book, but decided to keep and open mind and reserve judgement until the end. Having finished Lunar Park yesterday, I feel I am qualified to offer an opinion. Without mincing words too much, this latest offering from Ellis is, in short, total unadulterated rubbish. It reads, at very best, like a first horror novel attempt from a 1st year university creative writing student, on meth. When embarking upon the reading of a new novel, I expect, not unreasonably I think, to be completely transported from the brightly coloured surroundings of whatever tube train I happen to be in, to an entirely alternate reality, in which only the characters and story matter, but from the very outset, Lunar Park fails to dissolve any amount of reality and worse, for the first 30 pages, spills forth narcissism in a way only an acclaimed writer on an alcohol and drug fuelled ego trip can. As if that isn’t bad enough, the story deteriorates, if that is possible, into a tangle of incongruous plot points, none of which seem to do any more than allude to the authors’ former creative glory. It is, amongst my best list of anti-superlatives, uninspiring, unentertaining and worst of all, unimportant. To quote from the book “Why Bret?”

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