If we were going simply off of writing, this would've been an easy 3½ or 4 stars for me. Stylistically, it's not only beautifully written, but suffused with the kind of elegant, purplish prose that enchanted me as an adolescent. Reminiscent of Anne Rice's heavy, neo-Gothic style, Brite's writing doesn't shy away from gore but maintains an element of beauty nonetheless. The plot intrigued me as well, and while two of the main characters (the aforementioned Jay and Andrew) are never likable, all of the four protagonists are interesting.
While I appreciated Brite's ability to discuss the AIDS/HIV epidemic in a meaningful way, particularly in how it destroyed an entire generation of gay men and treated them as plague-victims, it seems that that sensitivity is not extended to race. Ironically enough, while Brite explores sexuality with a nuanced lens, the characters continually espouse racism (both casual and more "direct"). Tran has his own POV sections, which in my opinion were actually the best portions of this book, but in spite of that fact there's never a condemnation of Luke (Tran's ex-boyfriend) or any of the others for their racist remarks and usage of outdated, harmful terms.
If that aspect didn't exist, this novel would've been something that I would have greatly enjoyed, though it is rife with violence for the sake of violence. I couldn't understand why Brite decided to include the racial slurs and several characters' unchallenged racist thoughts. Yes, two of them are amoral murderers, but regardless the authorial narrative should ensure that we are not supposed to feel as if their racism is acceptable (and it isn't just the murderers who hold these views). Up until the very end, I did like the story's lines and found Jay and Andrew's relationship interesting enough, but the graphic, heart-wrenching scene at the book's climax left me feeling both horrified and angered -- and not in a pleasant way.
The single star is meant merely to symbolize that this could've been a potentially interesting book if it were not for these egregious issues I previously mentioned. I wouldn't recommend it purely because of its racist biases and racial weirdness (particularly in regards to Asian men, which felt dehumanizing and fetishistic). The gore and graphic quality of the story are almost beside the point; I haven't seen any other reviews mention the racism, which I found quite baffling. The rather disgusting (but nicely written) descriptions don't seem nearly as important.
All in all, I was extremely disappointed by this book, especially since I thought it would be a fascinating exploration into the minds of men who are blatantly modeled off of notorious killers like Jeffrey Dahmer and Dennis Nilsen. By the end, I couldn't shake the bad taste left in my mouth; Tran's role in this book left me feeling as if it were doing a disservice to the memory of Konerak Sinthasomphone, the victim of Dahmer who Tran is unsubtly based on. It's practically cut-and-past from Sinthasomphone's life and death, and rather than try to give us a deeper understanding of that horrific, pointless destruction of life, it instead recounts all the horrible details with loving and gleeful exuberance. It's nihilistic in a way that is simply unfathomable to me.
Once again, not recommended. There are plenty of other novels that deal with serial killings and killers, done much better, with far more subtlety and class. Do yourself a favor and pass on this one.
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