Chris reviewed Glamorama by Bret Easton Ellis
None
3 stars
A kind of literary equivalent of the long noodling passages of prog rock, this book meanders through 230 pages of name-dropping and shallowness (deliberately, all right, we've got the picture, your protagonist is a vapid fashion plate) before turning into an unlikely thriller - unlikely because the motivations are never explored (you find a similar problem in some television shows where the enemy is simply 'terrorists' as though this explained everything) with a nice body count whereas previously it's been a count of nice bodies - starting in Paris understandably as it's a bit Godardesque. Several people have said 'Zoolander played straight', which about sums it up.
A kind of literary equivalent of the long noodling passages of prog rock, this book meanders through 230 pages of name-dropping and shallowness (deliberately, all right, we've got the picture, your protagonist is a vapid fashion plate) before turning into an unlikely thriller - unlikely because the motivations are never explored (you find a similar problem in some television shows where the enemy is simply 'terrorists' as though this explained everything) with a nice body count whereas previously it's been a count of nice bodies - starting in Paris understandably as it's a bit Godardesque. Several people have said 'Zoolander played straight', which about sums it up.
