Whilst away I read Bret East Ellis’ Lunar Park, his latest and first novel in five years since Glamorama. As a writer who’s only published four novels and a collection of short stories his life lacks not for drama and controversy: from the buzz surrounding Less than Zero published whilst he was still at College to the furore surrounding American Psycho. (Yes, I know it’s a lazy opening to a review but I don’t care).
So, Lunar park then. Written as an autobiography (it isn’t one but does contain large amounts of actual autobiographical text) it starts Bret Easton Ellis as a middle-aged husband to a famous actress living with her and her two children, one of whom is his, and details the bizarre, haunting events that drove the family apart. As it’s been ages since I read all of his previous books I was most looking forward to Lunar Park and it didn’t disappoint. It’s not as hard to follow as I found Glamorama in places and there’s enough a mystery running throughout to keep me hooked and desperate to finish it, as all good books should. Despite that however I don’t know if I enjoyed it as much as Glamorama – it was more straightforward certainly but lacked a certain something that the previous book contained. Nonetheless I highly enjoyed it and it’s easily the best book I read last year.
And speaking of parks, last night we watched Wicker Park. Billed by the Sky EPG as a “tense Hitchcock-style psychological thriller” I wouldn’t have picked those exact words to describe it. However, although I was far from enthralled at the start I actually quite enjoyed it by the end. I shan’t go into too much detail but will say that should you get an opportunity to see this I heartily recommend it.