Bret Easton Ellis Lunar Park (v5.0) (epub)

[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.BRETEASTONELLISLUNARPARK ALFRED A.KNOPF.NEW YORK.2005table of contentsTitle PageDedicationEpigraph1.The Beginnings2.The Party3.Morning4.The Novel5.The College6.The Shrinks7.Robby’s Room8.Halloween9.Outside10.The Mall11.Detective12.The Dinner Party13.Parent/Teacher Night14.The Kids15.The Attachments16.The Wind17.Couples Counseling18.Spago19.The Cat20.Kentucky Pete21.The Actor22.Interlude23.The Phone Call24.The Darkness25.The Thing in the Hall26.The Meeting27.The Haunted28.Los Angeles29.The Attack30.The Awakening31.The EndingsOther Books by Bret Easton EllisCopyright PageforROBERT MARTIN ELLIS1941–1992andMICHAEL WADE KAPLAN1974–2004The occupational hazard of making a spectacle of yourself, over the long haul, is that at some point you buy a ticket too.—THOMAS MCGUANE, PanamaPeople who have made up their minds about a man do not like to have their opinions changed, to reverse their judgments on account of some new evidence or new arguments, and the man who tries to compel them to change their minds is at least wasting his time, and he may be asking for trouble.—JOHN O’HARAFrom the table of my memoryI’ll wipe away all trivial fond records,All saws of books, all forms, all pressures pastThat youth and observation copied there.—Hamlet, I: v.981.the beginnings“You do an awfully good impression of yourself.”This is the first line of Lunar Park and in its brevity and simplicity it was supposed to be a return to form, an echo, of the opening line from my debut novel, Less Than Zero.“People are afraid to merge on freeways in Los Angeles.”Since then the opening sentences of my novels—no matter how artfully composed—had become overly complicated and ornate, loaded down with a heavy, useless emphasis on minutiae.My second novel, The Rules of Attraction, for example, began with this:and it’s a story that might bore you but you don’t have to listen, she told me, because she always knew it was going to be like that, and it was, she thinks, her first year, or actually weekend, really a Friday, in September, at Camden, and this was three or four years ago, and she got so drunk that she ended up in bed, lost her virginity (late, she was eighteen) in Lorna Slavin’s room, because she was a Freshman and had a roommate and Lorna was, she remembers, a Senior or Junior and usually sometimes at her boyfriend’s place off-campus, to who she thought was a Sophomore Ceramics major but who was actually either some guy from N.Y.U., a film student, and up in New Hampshire just for The Dressed To Get Screwed party, or a townie.The following is from my third novel, American Psycho.ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER HERE is scrawled in blood red lettering on the side of the Chemical Bank near the corner of Eleventh and First and is in print large enough to be seen from the backseat of the cab as it lurches forward in the traffic leaving Wall Street and just as Timothy Price notices the words a bus pulls up, the advertisement for Les Misérables on its side blocking his view, but Price who is with Pierce & Pierce and twenty-six doesn’t seem to care because he tells the driver he will give him five dollars to turn up the radio, “Be My Baby” on WYNN, and the driver, black, not American, does so.This, from my fourth novel, Glamorama:Specks—specks all over the third panel, see?—no, that one—the second one up from the floor and I wanted to point this out to someone yesterday but a photo shoot intervened and Yaki Nakamari or whatever the hell the designer’s name is—a master craftsman not—mistook me for someone else so I couldn’t register the complaint, but, gentlemen—and ladies—there they are: specks, annoying, tiny specks, and they don’t look accidental but like they were somehow done by a machine—so I don’t want a lot of description, just the story, streamlined, no frills, the lowdown: who, what, where, when and don’t leave out why, though I’m getting the distinct impression by the looks on your sorry faces that why won’t get answered—now, come on, goddamnit, what’s the story?(The Informers was a short story collection published between American Psycho and Glamorama and since much of it was written while I was still in college—before the publication of Less Than Zero—it was an example of the same stripped-down minimalism [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

Pokrewne