American Psycho is a dark satire of materialism and superficiality. It is also a vivid depiction of a young man's descent into mental illness as a serial killer.

The setting is New York in the late 1980s. The characters are all youthful members of the financial community and exemplars of the yuppie culture. They are obsessed with fashion, fitness and trendy restaurants. But their conversation is inane, and while they can identify the designer of a friend's suit, they are chronically incapable of remembering their friends' faces and names.

Patrick Bateman, the narrator, is both a superb example of this cutlure, and acutely aware of its vacuity. He is obsessed with his wardrobe and his appearance, spending hours each day working out and grooming. He has, in parallel, another obsession. He is driven to torture and kill other people. Most of his victims are young women, whom he attacks during sex. He craves the sight of suffering and blood the way he craves cocaine. Over time his activities become more extreme and riskier.

Bateman constantly flirts with discovery--taking blood-soaked sheets to the cleaners, making remarks about torture during conversation, and even shouting a confession--but everyone ignores him. His public image blocks any recognition of his private self, even when he cries for that recognition. (This reminds me very much of Ralph Ellison's novel Invisible Man, where the narrator is so much a creation of other's expectations that he doesn't even have a name for himself.)

Ellis doesn't just make his point, he bludgeons it home. There isn't just one detailed description of a person's attire, there are literally hundreds. The sex is graphic, and the torture scenes are described in stomach churning detail. This heavy handedness is, I believe, as much a part of the novel's message as any other element. It is the author's statement about the lengths he must go to break through to a desensitized, overstimulated audience. While it makes for rough reading at times, it also makes American Psycho an unforgettable story of a man's futile search for identity and a cautionary tale about putting material success ahead of human relationships. ( )

Vacuous decadence taken to the extreme. There are passages I had to skip for fear of hurling, but Ellis nails the lack of morality and compassion in today's up and coming elite. It's what replaces the emptiness that's frightening. ( )

I really liked this when I read it, though it seems silly now. ( )

I loved both Glamorama (by far my favorite of his books) and The Rules of Attraction, so I picked this book up last spring. What a mistake! The themes Ellis covers here are more elegantly discussed in Glamorama, and the characters much more interesting and relatable (despite their vapidity and foolishness) in the later novel. I say skip this book, rent the Christian Bale movie, and check out a copy of Glamorama instead. ( )

This book ate into my brain when I read it, even though it consists mostly of lists of product and brand names. ( )