Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam > Blaise Pascal Instituut > Girard Studiekring > COV&R 2007 > Abstracts Papers
DANIEL COJOCARU
Confessions of an American Psycho: James Hoggs and Bret Easton Ellis Anti-Heroes Journey from Vulnerability to Violence
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pAper
My
vitals have all been torn, and every faculty of and feeling of my soul racked,
and tormented into callous insensibility. [
] I could perceive no bottom, and
thennot till then, did I repeat the tremendous prayer!I was instantly at
liberty; and what I now am, the Almighty knows! Amen.
(Hogg
165)
My
conscience, my pity, my hopes disappeared a long time ago (probably at Harvard)
if they ever did exist. [
] My pain is constant and sharp [
]. But even
after admitting this[
] and coming face-to-face with these truths, there is
no catharsis. I gain no deeper knowledge about myself. [
] This confession has
meant nothing.
(Ellis
377)
167 years lie between
the publication of James Hoggs The
Private Memoirs and Confessions of a Justified Sinner (henceforth:
Confessions) and Bret Easton Ellis American
Psycho. Yet one cannot but be amazed at the striking similarities of the
main protagonists insights at the end of the respective novels. Although
connections between works of Gothic Romanticism and postmodern narratives have
been duly noted, possible reasons for analogies remain largely unexplored.[1]
It will be argued that both novels are representations of worlds immersed in
what René Girard has termed deviated transcendency in Deceit, Desire and the Novel (henceforth: Deceit), resulting in similar stages of narrative progression, which
in turn can be analyzed in terms of Girards mimetic cycle of violence.
At
a first glance the two pieces seem to be concerned with themes which to a
secularized age must appear most disparate. But as Girard has noted: The very
idea of mediation encourages literary comparisons at a level which is no longer
that of genre criticism or thematic
criticism [
]. It may illuminate the works through each other. (Deceit
23). Hoggs narrative deals with the problem of antinomianism and the
resulting spiritual pride. The anti-hero of the narrative, Robert Wringhim,
relies on his belief that he is one of the elect and cannot fall from grace and
consequently is convinced by his elusive friend Gil-Martin to become a murderer
without having to fear punishment. American
Psycho on the other hand is concerned with the consequences of the crass
materialism of the US-American yuppie generation, culminating at the end of the
1980s, as experienced by the serial-killing first person narrator Patrick
Bateman. However, one could argue that on the very first pages American
Psycho presents the reader with a secularized version of antinomianism.
Michael Steig has fleetingly noted that the egocentric doctrines of
antinomianism psychologically resemble the Im alright tenets of
yuppie-pseudo psychology (196). Timothy Price, one of Batemans working
colleagues on Wall Street expresses this in the following words: In essence
what Im saying is that society cannot afford to lose me. Im an asset. (Ellis
3). Translated into antinomian terms one could say that he is one of the elect,
one of the privileged enjoying capitalist heaven on earth and by saying that
society cannot afford to lose him, he, in the same way as Wringhim believes that
he cannot fall from grace or at least he tries to believe it.
I
was well aware that the devilish powers of his mother would finally prevail; and
either the dread of this, or the inward consciousness of having wronged him,
certainly unnerved my arm. (Hogg
77). If, in the preceding passage of a quarrel with a fellow pupil at school,
Robert gives himself away of doubting his own words through the rhetorical
device of correctio, so does Timothy by the choice of his words. It is exactly
because he is an asset that society can afford to lose him. By being literally
transformed into a commodity, society can discard him and in the novel indeed
does so. It is one of the many ironies of the narrative that Price disappears
soon after the above statement and only reappears on the final pages with
rumours having him returned from rehab (Ellis 397). So yuppies like Price are
under the constant threat of losing their privileged position in society. It is
worth noting that in the film adaptation by director Mary Harron, Bateman, the
personified Everyyuppie (Kooijman &Lane 49), narrates his first murder
after the following incident:
I decide to even up the score a little bit by showing everyone my new
business card. I pull it out of my gazelleskin wallet (Barneys $850) and slap
it on the table, waiting for reactions. [
] New card. I try to act
casual about it but Im smiling proudly. [
] Thats bone, I point
out. And the lettering is something called Silian Rail. [
] Its very
cool, Bateman, Van Patten says guardedly, [
] but thats nothing
.
He pulls out his wallet and slaps a card next to an ashtray. Look at this.
[
] Im looking at Van
Pattens card and then at mine and cannot believe that Price actually likes
Van Pattens better.
(Ellis 44)
The above passage
offers a first hint at Batemans overly mimetic being. It is not that he
himself thinks that Van Pattens card is better than his or that there even be
an inherent quality in Van Pattens card that makes it better. It is Prices
judgment that convinces Bateman that his card is of an inferior quality: The
object has disappeared completely. (Deceit
87). I want to fit in, Bateman states, when asked by his ex-girlfriend
The
almost complete identification of persons according to how they are dressed
leads to an increasing confusion of identities[2]:
Owen has mistaken me for Marcus Halberstam [
] but for some reason it
really doesnt matter and it seems a logical faux pas since Marcus works at
P&P also, in fact does the same exact thing I do, and he also has a penchant
for Valentino suits and clear prescription glasses and we share the same barber
at the same place, [
] (89). Although Niklas Luhmann is right that the
religious and stratifying functions of conflicts of imitation do not apply in a
capitalist society, his claim that conflicts of imitation are due to the lack of
purchasing power (145) is inadequate. In Batemans world no such lack exists.
Since everyone can afford anything, conflictive mimesis is revealed to remain a
spiritual problem and is even exacerbated. Although this rivalry is the
source of considerable material benefits, it also leads to even more
considerable spiritual sufferings, for nothing material can appease it. (Deceit
137). James R. Giles has observed that Bateman appears more liberal and
compassionate than his friends (162). His understanding of the process of
rivalry may, therefore, be more lucid: becoming an asset means the erasure of
ones identity and the assuming of a hollow outside shell, dictated by the
logic of consumerism. In Batemans case his vulnerability that allows that
insight is erased by the process of depersonalization as he himself describes:
There wasnt a clear, identifiable emotion within me, except greed and
possibly total disgust. I had all the characteristics of a human being flesh,
blood, skin, hair, but my depersonalization was so intense, had gone so deep,
that the normal ability to feel compassion had been eradicated, the victim of a
slow, purposeful erasure. I was simply imitating reality, a rough resemblance of
a human being, with only a dim corner of my mind functioning.
(Ellis 282)
Double mediation
gradually devours and digests ideas, beliefs, and values, but it respects the
outer shell; it leaves a semblance of life. (Deceit 139). Or put in Batemans words: I feel like shit but
look great. (Ellis 106). A very similar process of depersonalization can be
observed with respect to Robert Wringhim in a remark from the editors
narrative: But filled as his heart was with some portion of these bad
feelings, to which all flesh is subject, he kept nevertheless, the fear of the
Lord always before his eyes so far as never to omit any of the external duties
of religion [
]. (Hogg 23). Just as Patrick follows the script of the
yuppie-ideal, so Robert imitates a religious script. As Clark Hutton observes:
Roberts understanding of his existence is neither inward nor subjective;
rather it is based on the conflicting opinions of others. (38). Having been
discarded by the Laird of Dalcastle, the husband of Roberts mother, Robert is
raised by his supposed father, the predestinarian pastor Wringhim. In a
perversion of the story of Jacobs fight with god from Genesis 32, Robert is
assured by Wringhim of his belonging to the elect. As Robert is educated in the
tenets of antinomianism, his vulnerable side is increasingly erased and replaced
by antinomian pride: On the whole, I remember that I got into great confusion
relating to my sins and repentances, and knew neither where to begin nor how to
proceed, and often had great fears that I was wholly without Christ. (Hogg
74).
[Internal]
mediation triumphs in a universe where the differences between men are gradually
erased. (Deceit 14). It is not long after the assurance that Roberts
internal mediator Gil-Martin enters his life and increasingly governs his
actions. While Robert thinks him to be the Zar of Russia, everyone else is
convinced that he is the devil incarnate. Whether that be so or not is not as
important as the fact that Gil-Martin fuels Roberts spiritual pride and
functions as a catalyst for Robert to confirm his position as one of the elect
by murdering those that are not: How much more wise would it be, thought I,
to begin and cut of sinners off with the sword! For till that is effected, the
saints can never inherit the earth in peace. (Hogg 85)[3].
An obvious target is Roberts brother George, the Laird of Dalcastles
legitimate son and heir of the Laird. Roberts apparently spiritual motif to
kill his brother only inadequately disguises the obvious material benefits he
reaps from Georges death, namely becoming the heir of the Laird.
In
reverse Patrick Bateman is trying to convince himself and his readers that there
are only material reasons concerned in his first murder in the film and the
novel: You know how bad you smell? You reek of shit. Did you know that? Im
sorry Al, its just that I dont have anything in common with you. (Harron
0:20:40). The hollow but probably well-perfumed outside shell of Patrick Bateman
kills the beggar because of his bad smell. Thus he is able to disguise from
himself the spiritual reasons for the murder namely that, after the lost card-contest,
he is afraid of someone taking over his position as Everyyuppie. In the
case of the beggar this is not possible, as the latter forms no direct threat to
Patricks position. There are, however, repeated references in the novel that
Patrick is viewed by his surrounding as the boy next door (18, 20, 37 etc.),
thus not conforming to the yuppie-ideal. His vulnerability is ridiculed by
society, so that Patrick tries even more to conform to the yuppie-ideal, by
taking it to its final consequence eliminating his rivals. He really is
the boy next door turned into an insecure and obsessional man [
] (Blazer
par. 18). Patricks double, Paul Owen (Paul Allen in the film), forms the
primary threat to Batemans position. Owen handles the universally coveted
Fisher account at Pierce & Pierce. To become the uncontested
Everyyuppie Bateman has to surpass Owen, who forms the perfect obstacle.
He is the internal mediator whose very being Patrick covets. (Deceit
53). Eventually Bateman kills Owen with an axe and then pretends to be Paul Owen
while in company with prostitutes and escort girls in Owens flat: needless to
say that his sexuality also follows a script, namely the script of hardcore porn
films. To cover up the murder, Bateman leaves a message on Owens answering
machine imitating his victims voice, informing any callers that he has left
for
[No]
human hand shall ever henceforth be able to injure your life, or shed a drop of
your precious blood[.] (Hogg 114). Gil-Martins condition for this
assurance is that Robert remains on his demonic path. Although in the Confessions
the reasons for Roberts preservation remain within the realm of the
supernatural, there are hints at mimetic reasons. As a friend of George Colwan,
Thomas Drummond, is on trial for the murder of the former, the editor captures
the statements of the witnesses as follows: Not one of them could swear that
it was Drummond who came to the door, and desired to speak with the deceased,
but the general impression on the minds of them all, was to that effect. (Hogg
38). The effacement of clearly defined identities is as present as it is in American
Psycho, and although the capacity to impersonate the likeness of people is
reserved for Gil-Martin and his disciple Robert and remains in the realm of the
supernatural, it is clearly what saves Robert from being recognized as
Georges murderer. One of the witnesses explains: I saw [Drummond] going
eastward. [
] At the very same time, I saw two men[.] [
] One
of them was extremely like Drummond. (Hogg 51).
The
confusion of identities is also what saves Patrick Bateman from suspicion. As a
private detective, Donald Kimball, starts to investigate the disappearance of
Paul Owen, Bateman has to explain his whereabouts on the night of the
disappearance. Bateman had dinner with Owen who mistook him for Marcus
Halberstram. Faced with the question, he pretends to be at a loss. At a second
meeting Kimball answers the question for him. According to information from
Owens secretary, Owen was supposed to have dinner with Halberstram. The
latter however has an alibi. He was at Harrys with some working colleagues.
Thus far there is nothing unusual for the reader to observe, as he is aware that
Bateman pretended to be Halberstram. The detective, however, lets Bateman know
that according to his investigation Patrick was at Harrys too he has a
perfect alibi as well. It is not surprising that in a world with extremely
shallow identities, where everybody starts to resemble one another, someone
could have mistaken Bateman for someone else. What remains an enigmatic reality
in the Confessions and thus makes
it a more pleasurable novel can be clearly traced to the processes of
deviated transcendency in American Psycho.
Due
to the loss of differences, the respective societies in the novels cannot any
longer with certainty identify the murderers who apparently threaten the social
fabric. Thus the anti-heroes are allowed to continue to rage at will. Their
murders continue because, although they have killed their rivals and taken their
position, the promise of being, connected to the murders, has failed them. They
have to recognize that there is no original. The mediator [
] is a first
copy. (Deceit 73). Patricks
search for understanding his own and societys being continues through his
atrocities against women. Because Patrick fails to differentiate himself from
his colleagues he is afraid of beings who indeed are different from him and
which he therefore suspects of having an identity which he lacks. Therefore
women (and indeed homeless people) seem to him the ideal victims for this quest
for identity: As usual, in an attempt to understand these girls, I am filming
their deaths. (Ellis 304). Martin Weinreich observes: It appears that
Patrick Bateman murders in order to discover something authentic, something
remotely meaningful [
] beyond the surface [
] of images and signs. (72).
That would however mean that he would have to take responsibility for his own
violence. And it is exactly that which he evades by retreating to the world of
surface: And though it does sporadically penetrate how unacceptable some of
what Im doing actually is, I just remind myself that this thing, this girl,
this meat is nothing, is shit. (Ellis 345). And as with anything else, murder
and torture become a meaningless repetition for Patrick: [B]ut then Im
used to the horror. It seems distilled. Even now it fails to upset or bother
me. His own violence numbs him and his reality becomes increasingly blurred
and devoid of conscious agency: Her breasts have been chopped off, though I
dont remember doing this. (Ellis 344).
Robert
Wringhim, like Patrick lacking an identity of his own, also directs his violence
towards women: I brought myself to despise, if not to abhor the beauty of
women: I gloried in my acquisition. (Hogg 78). In the course of the narrative
he is suspected of having killed his mother and his mistress, although he
disguises those facts from his conscience. There are only hints that this is the
case: My mother found! said
Meanwhile,
Patrick is still looking for a way to confirm his unique identity. Having failed
to establish a unique identity as a yuppie since [e]verybodys rich,
good looking and has a great body (Ellis 23) , he tries to be acknowledged
by society as a serial killer. It is crucial to be very careful how this attempt
at escaping nothingness is narrated. Bateman describes the world outside his
reality as follows: Everything outside of it, is like a movie I once saw.
(Ellis 345). When Bateman shoots an old lady on the street, a police car notices
the act and a wild car chase ensues. It has been observed that the first person
narrator Bateman switches to third person narrative (Giles 170; Helyer 741;
Jacobsen par. 11). In addition to other possible reasons for this switch, it can
be seen as an indication that he tries to create that outside reality. However,
one of his stray bullets hits a police cars gas tank and Bateman gets away.
Considering the above statement that everything outside Batemans reality is a
movie he once saw, it is not surprising that the only means he has to construct
that outside reality is in the film stereotype of a car chase scene. After
escaping the police, he calls his lawyer Harold Carnes in an act of desperation
and leaves a message on his answering machine, confessing all his crimes. The
next time he sees him at Harrys his lawyers reaction is nothing but
consistent with the progressing erasure of distinct identities throughout the
novel and film. His Lawyer mistakes Bateman for
In
an article on the film version of American Psycho, Jaap Kooijman and Tarja Laine argue that Paul Allen
is indeed alive and that Bateman has only fantasized his murders (7). They try
to corroborate their reading by pointing to a scene in which Bateman calls a
barmaid a fucking ugly bitch. (Harron 0:04:11) They claim that the words
are actually never uttered since the barmaid does not react to them and only
exist within Batemans mirrored face behind the bar. There are, however many
more instances, where Bateman actually does utter shocking words and does get a
reaction. For example when he answers two models that he is into murders and
executions they repeat his words as mergers and acquisitions. (Harron
0:59:13) A reading in which such words are never actually uttered, denies the
very crisis of epistemology (Weinreich 77) due to the loss of differences. This
crisis is also represented on the language level by the subtle irony that plays
with the duplicity of language and allows for the misunderstandings that let
Patrick get away with murder. That recalls Benvenistes neglect of the violent
part of words, of which Girard reminds us in Violence and the Sacred (263). It is in these dialogues that the key
to the apparent dissonance between the parodic discourses and the violent
passages is found (Price 327). This echoes what Ian Campbell has noted about the
Confessions: the ridicule of
misapplied language is one of the primary means by which Hogg achieves his major
fictive excellence [
] (22).
It
has been claimed that there is no difference if the murders happened or not.
(Mandel 11). However, as soon as one denies one possibility, the undecidibility
the text so beautifully displays is lost and identity is conferred to Bateman
either as murderer or psychotic. But Batemans role remains ambiguous. The
fact that Carnes mistakes Bateman for Davies is an indication that the reader
can never be sure that it is indeed Allen who Carnes has had dinner with and
forms another ambiguity that is deeply rooted in the mimetic structure of the
novel and film. Finally, if Bateman simply suffers from a very severe psychotic
disorder, it would absolve society from being responsible in his making. Such a
reading misses the most poignant and disturbing irony in the novel and the film:
a society of crass materialism of which Bateman is a product, is no longer
interested in stopping people like Bateman, but is with eyes open encouraging
him to continue his elimination of replaceable, hollow, identical human beings.
The passage is the recognition of the connection between individual desire and
collective structure (Deceit 226).
What Bateman refuses to accept is that everybody shares equal responsibility,
because everybody participates in the destruction of a cultural order. (Violence
and the Sacred 71). Or as David W. Price puts it: We are all Batemans.
(329). Negating that connection means to embrace Batemans words that his
confession has meant nothing (Ellis 377) and be included into the texts
irony.
The
worst thing about our intellectual life nowadays is its implicit or explicit
agreement with the famous Shakespearean phrase about the sound and the fury
signifying nothing. (Foreword xiii).
Ellis anticipates the reaction of his postmodern readers and bypasses any
discussions about the reality of the narrated atrocities by quoting from Notes
from Underground: Both the author of these Notes
and the Notes themselves are, of
course fictional. Nevertheless, such persons not only exist in our society, but
indeed must exist, considering the circumstances under which our society has
generally been formed. (Ellis no pagination). Thus Giles point that it is
improbable that Bateman has three vaginas stored in his locker is irrelevant
(168). The violence is relocated to the readers body (Mandel 11) and the
readers society. The mimetic structure of the narrative directs the
readers attention to deviated transcendency as the cause of these
circumstances. It is the symptomatology of deviated transcendency that those who
want a humanist resolution to the monstrosity of the world Ellis presents
reject. (Price 333). But in Ellis there is no positive element to
counterbalance the destructive force of the social critique he has launched.
(Price 333). As Bateman himself recognizes: She is searching for a rational
analysis of who I am, which is, of course, an impossibility: there
is
no
key.
(Ellis 264). The rationalist-humanist editor of the Confessions
too has to recognize that he cannot understand Roberts confession: With
regard to the work itself, I dare not venture a judgement, for I do not
understand it. (Hogg 174). It may actually be due to the fact that both
novels defy rational analysis that they have been largely ignored by their
contemporary readership. It was not until the middle of the twentieth century
that Hoggs novel was critically acclaimed, whereas for American Psycho Price remarks that The only true death that can
be issued against a writer has been made good in the case of Ellis: his work is
being ignored. (321).
One
has to leave the rational level and recognize that the key is to acknowledge
authentic transcendence, i.e. leave the level of internal mediation for external
mediation. There is only one passage where this seems to be the case in the
novel, when Patrick goes to a concert of the pop group U2, whose songs in the
1980s were revolving around the Gospel message and the external mediator Jesus
Christ:
Suddenly I get this tremendous surge of feeling, this rush of knowledge
and my own heart beats faster because of this and its not impossible to
believe that an invisible cord attached to Bono has now encircled me and now the
audience disappears and the music slows down, gets softer, and its just Bono
onstage-the stadiums deserted, the band fades away. [
] But suddenly
everything stops [
]. Bono is on the other side of the stage now [
] and
everything, the feeling in my heart, the sensation combing my brain, vanishes
and now more than ever I need to know about the Fisher account that Owen is
handling and this information seems vital, more pertinent than the bond I feel I
have with Bono, who is now dissolving and remote. I turn to Paul Owen.
(Ellis 146)
One could argue that
because Bono is involved in external mediation through transcendence in Christ,
he is the only mediator that for one instant offers Patrick real being, echoing
the words of Paul imitate me as I imitate Christ (1 Corinthians 4:16f) in
a world otherwise devoid of being. The moment he turns away from Bono, he is
plunged back into the world of deviated transcendency and turns to his rival
Paul Owen. This marvellously echoes Girards insight: From the moment the
mediators influence is felt, the sense of reality is lost and judgment
paralyzed. (Deceit 4).
Before
Robert Wringhim is totally absorbed by Gil-Martin he too has the possibility to
exchange his deviated transcendency for true transcendence: I looked again up
into the cloudy veil that covered us, and thought I beheld golden weapons of
every description let down on it, but all with their points toward me. I kneeled
and was going to stretch out my hand to take one, when my patron seized me [
]
and dragged me away. (Hogg 95). Like Bateman, Robert is drawn away from true
transcendence that could reveal to him his wrongdoing, back into the nothingness
of internal mediation. The prayer which Gil-Martin makes him pray seals his
state of nothingness. The hero decides that death is the meaning of life.
(Deceit 287). And although his suicide seems to absolve him from his
hell, the exhumation of his corpse by the editor suggests something else: I
hae often wondered how it was that this mans corpse has been miraculously
preserved frae decay, a hunder times langer than ony other bodys. (Hogg
174). Although Wringhim kills himself, death flees him (Revelation 9:6) and his
preserved body is evidence that he cannot fully serve as scapegoat for a society
whose judicial systems fails due to the loss of differences through deviated
transcendency. Robert remains in a state of nothingness: It was merely the
appearance of flesh without the substance. (Hogg 172). Thus Hogg anticipates
the sacrificial crisis of the modern (Violence and the Sacred 189), in which differences can no longer be
restored to society through the expulsion of the single victim. Bateman, who
would gladly offer himself as that victim in exchange for identity is repudiated
by a society that has reached a stage of the sacrificial mechanism that echoes
Pauls warning to the Galatians: But if you bite and devour one another,
beware lest you be consumed by one another. (5:15) And that is all that is
left for him to do:
There are no more barriers to cross. All I have in common with the
uncontrollable and the insane the vicious and the evil. All the Mayhem I have
caused and my utter indifference toward it, I have now surpassed. My pain is
constant and sharp and I do not hope for a better world for anyone. In fact I
want my pain to be inflicted on others.
(Harron 1:30:19)
Bateman experiences
that pain, as if no one else was feeling the same, (Johnsen 35), whereas in the
final scene at Harrys it is more than probable that everyone feels like
Bateman: Everyone thinks that he alone is condemned to hell, and that is what
makes it hell. (Deceit 57). Unlike
the Stendhalian universe (Deceit 147),
Ellis and Hoggs universe seems to have reached the point of complete
absence of order a further stage of the gradual sacrificial crisis of the
modern world. Both texts are set at the end of an era, a culture: the Confessions
just prior to the Union of Parliaments that sealed the dependence of
Postscript:
In November 2006 13
adolescents repeatedly raped a 13-year-old girl in the
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Stirling, Kirsten.
Dr Jekyll and Mr Jackass: Fight
Club as a Refraction of Hoggs Justified
Sinner and Stevensons Dr Jekyll and
Mr Hyde. Refracting the Canon in
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[1]
Cf. Stirling, Heyeler and Giles (168). Joel Faflak observes that the rise of
the gothic coincides with the rise of capitalist market economy (108). It is
thus not surprising that when capitalism has run its full course, that the
Gothic should resurface.
[2] The film adaption by Mary Harron convincingly demonstrates that such a confusion is indeed possible.
[3] Leigh Brock argues that Bateman too thinks of his acts as being destined (7).
[4] In the film version of American Psycho the events take even place exclusively in 1987.