Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Less Than Zero













At first, I was skeptical that Ellis could write and publish such an acclaimed book at the age of nineteen. Then, I totally bought into the idea. Then, I actually read the book.

The story centers on Clay, a college student returning home to Los Angeles during his winter break. At first, his biggest problem is resolving his relationship with ex-girlfriend Blair. His hometown is unromanticized, and crawling with characters who are darkly apathetic at best and downright evil at their worst. At first, his friends' depravity seems harmless enough - the typical mischief one would expect of inherently wealthy young adults taking designer drugs. Soon, though, Clay is describing cocaine causing blood to come out of his nose, a torture porn viewing which the other characters discuss with vague disinterest, and ultimately a dead body and a young girl being raped by his friends.

The core plot outlines Clay's attempt to find his friend Julian, who disappears after Clay loans him a large sum of money to ostensibly pay for an abortion. Clay tries to track him down, with many suggesting that Julian has died. When he does finally locate him, Clay finds out that Julian has a major heroin problem and has taken to whoring himself out - literally - to get himself out of debt. Julian's problem is like quicksand, though, and Clay sees how the more Julian struggles against it, the further in he sinks.

Through all of this, Clay's narrative occasionally provides us glimpses into his privileged past as he tries to pinpoint the moment he lost all passion for life. He suggests a summer spent at his grandparents' mansion in Palm Springs may have been the turning point, after which his grandmother died and things began to decay.

Ellis's prose is cold and crisp to the point of harshness, which aptly fitting of the apathetic characters in the novel. As the novel is told through Clay's perspective, everything is viewed through his disinterested and disaffected lens. The novel itself feels very episodic, which could be a flaw if it did not feel intentional. (Wouldn't a life with limitless time and money and lacking any obligation seem like a random string of events connected only by recurring locations and characters? It would to me. But, then again, I'm poor in money and imagination.)

Aside from its brutality and bluntness and the look-what-he-did-at-nineteen factor, the book has some features of literary merit. For example, the theme of individual insignificance in the face of such a cold and cruel city is hammered home in some interesting ways. The punk group X repeatedly pops up which (aside from hopefully inspiring people to go out and buy their music) suggests an anonymity and facelessness to the background noise of these characters lives - the band doesn't even have a real name, just the mathematical variable "X" which could be anything. There is also the not-so-subtle "You could disappear here" billboard which haunts Clay at various intersections in Los Angeles, vaguely reminiscent of the "Eyes of T. J. Eckleburg" in "The Great Gatsby."

I'd recommend this book with one caveat: there are some moments of gruesome brutality which are hard to read. Given the anhedonia of the characters, though, it's hard to tell whether or not the reader is supposed to feel anything in these scenes. And that may be the most disturbing feature of the book.

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