The novel has many chapters and each chapter has the same structure. It describes what the protagonist, Patrick Bateman has. The clothes, perfume, restaurant, stereo system. After 100 pages, he starts to become psychotic. I think that the entire novel is ironic, not any part of it. It made me think about the greed of humanity, especially that of Americans. I fucking hate men like him. Arrogant, chauvinistic, inconsiderate, materialistic. Typical "Wall Street guy". I am not after money. Money does not motivate me. I can't change my nature because if I break it, my whole life has been meaningless. I also hate those New Yorker cunts who socialize with those like Patrick Bateman.
The novel has no curve. It is endless and same description of the inner mind of the protagonist. I will finish it as soon as possible.
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