Less Than Zero - Bret Easton Ellis, 1985.

“This is one of the most disturbing novels I’ve read in a long time”

-Michiko Kakutani
From the original review in the The New York Times, June 1985.




Bret Easton Ellis’ debut novel, Less Than Zero, introduces themes and styles that were to become key components of his unique literary style; affluence, nihilism, violence, offbeat sexual liberties and most importantly, the compelling way in which he is able to recount the aforementioned in an off-hand, indifferent manner as if everyday life contains such extremes.

The novel’s protagonist, eighteen year-old Clay, known only by his forename, has returned to Los Angeles after his first semester at university in New Hampshire. The young student begins to pick up his Californian life where he had left off; a cocaine-fuelled, party-filled movie star existence, however he is disillusioned by his friends’ reckless behaviour, relentless vanity and an increasingly dark search for new means of hedonism that by the end of the novel reveals themselves sickening and undefendable. It is, however , Clay’s inability, and lack of desire, to condemn the actions of his those he spends time with, that proves to be the most disturbing characteristic of this novel, not the fact that such vile happenings exist.

The first of four events that disturbs our protagonist is an anorexic female friend of his injecting heroin, whilst simultaneously laughing and crying, and being filmed by a crowd of onlookers at a party. It is needless to go into more detail regarding such events which can only be given justice in prose via the pen of an author as renowned as Easton Ellis, but the last such occurrence that shocks Clay is a scene that rivals that of American Psycho which needs only be referred to as ‘the one with the rat’ in order to cement its notoriety.

Similarly to American Pyscho, the further one reads into the novel, the more repelling the details of the plot become, as Easton Ellis forces the reader to think of the perils of the mega rich; a complete breakdown of all relationships within the family, a boredom which can only be conquered by the use of increasingly more grotesque forms of stimulation, and ultimately, a lack of anything to lose, which proves to be the key reason why Less Than Zero’s characters carry out their actions, and ultimately justify them.
If you want something, you can have it.
If you want something, you will have it.

I hate to say "I told you so..."

Although I have always fully embraced the idea of any festival which covers as much as possible of the broad artistic spectrum, I never genuinely believed I would leave a music festival with my highlights being American alt-comic Emo Phillips and possibly the greatest living English writer, Sebastian Faulks. While there is nothing better to do when in the grasp of a particularly vengeful hangover than relax in a cool tent listening to intellectual columnists or a plethora of fresh comedians whose names I will surely never recall unless they make the big time, I generally go to a music festival with the expectation that it will be that medium which will leave me with the happiest memories.

I am not going to go into detail as to why Latitude 2010 was a disappointment; let’s just say it is, broadly speaking, for the reasons mentioned in my first post What Attitude? (09/03/2010). The inexplicable and highly regrettable attempted rapes on the site were of course atrocious, but realistically unpreventable, so I will not criticise the festival’s organisers for this. Musically, there were two bands I had expected to be outstanding at this festival; The National and Belle and Sebastian. Both bands need no introduction, and it was the Brooklyn-based quintet who I was able to see first, headlining the Word Arena on Friday night. While waiting for The National to take to the stage, the tightly packed in crowd gossiped amongst themselves regarding their adoration for this criminally, perpetually overlooked band, and my mind was set at ease following the previous few months’ bitterness that it was Florence + the Machine playing the “proper” headline slot that night, at the Obelisk arena.

The band were flawless. I have no complaints with the music, not the set I would have preferred, but even my less-favoured songs were performed in the mind-blowing yet heartbreaking way that only The National can. There is something deeply uncomfortable, however, and ultimately disturbing, when watching frontman, Matt Berninger, get steadily more drunk and subdued while singing lyrics that appear highly personal. Ultimately, when you are so close to the barrier that it is the crowd, and not Matt in his distinctive baritone, that you can hear singing, it does detract somewhat from the performance, however the band are not to blame. Belle and Sebastian, headlining the Obelisk arena on Saturday, were slick, professional and a joy to watch. Interspersing their set of classics with new songs, and a Rolling Stones cover, there were no complaints to be had from anybody, and as brilliant as I had expected them to be.

However, does not a truly great festival experience include expected moments of magic where you don’t expect them? I did not see as many music acts at Latitude 2010 as I have at previous events, but it is rather disappointing to only be satisfied with that which you had already expected to be great. Wild Beasts showed up for one or two songs, the highlight of Paul Heaton’s set was a cover of a song he wrote for previous band The Housemartins in the late 1980s, Crystal Castles were dull and monotonous, The Pains of Being Pure At Heart were plain and simply out of tune, while the less said about indie fodder-with-a-banjo Mumford and Sons the better.

To the positives. Sebastian Faulks, critically acclaimed author of novels such as Birdsong, Engelby and Human Traces spoke with eloquence, intelligence and knowledge as he actively engaged with his audience and gave readings of a few of his books, primarily his newest, the aptly titled Pistache (Pastiche + Piss Take, geddit?), displaying Faulks' comic qualities, as he creates false works of prose and poetry which appear to be the product of famous literary figures in unfamiliar positions. These include Alan Bennett going to war, Jane Austen meeting Patrick Bateman, and Graham Greene attempting to write a novel from a woman’s viewpoint. I fear not giving enough credit to the various comedians who I saw over the weekend, however the majority are not very well known, and I simply cannot recall their names. But the comedy tent is a true standout at Latitude, a place you know you will find something entertaining and (usually) relaxing during the daytime.

Latitude 2010 was as I expected it. A more Radio 1-friendly audience, but with remnants of the same left-of-centre slightly older crowd it has always attracted. However just as I had expected in March, I will not be attending for it’s 6^th “edition” as the organisers like to name it.

See you at the Hay festival 2011.