pleasures of narrative

and losing faith in the adult world

The Shards has been eating into my nights lately. Bret Easton Ellis hasn’t published a novel since 2005’s Lunar Park, so as a white-man-nerd raised on American Psycho, Less Than Zero, and The Rules of Attraction i’m contractually obligated to read anything Ellis pumps out.

The cool thing about a BEE book is that, it’s like a Stephen King book — it doesn’t matter what happens, I’m just glad it exists.

If you are one who insists on finding meaning, The Shards is a full-on bildungsroman disguised as erotic horror and one teenagers slow and often unrecognizable loss of faith in the adult world.

I can’t stop thinking about how much The Shards reminds me of The Secret History by Donna Tartt. An all timer. That tone. That mise-en-place. That disaffection. Misspent youth. The spoils of an upper middle class upbringing. No coincidence they both spent a few years intertwined at Bennington in the 80’s.

Sure. Read this if you like that. But most of you won’t read The Shards. It’s too long and life is too short. The Secret History is also long — so, while you’re piqued go ahead and watch Donna dazzle in this interview. One I watch in full anytime I see it appear in my algorithm, Feel free to ignore Charlie Rose.

I particularly love the bit on her reverence of poets.

And if you are desperate for content about Bret and Donna, this Esquire piece about their time at Bennington is wonderful.