I love the way Brett Easton Ellis writes; I just don't like what he writes about.
He takes things too far.
I was fascinated by the world he created in The Informers — not so much a novel as a collection of overlapping stories, each vignette told in the first person by a different character — but a few of the later chapters conveyed more than I wanted to know about human nature.
The violence was too real, too depraved.
Worse, there was no hope. Not a shred of optimism anywhere.
That said, I did come away with one positive observation. It seemed to me that, without saying so, Ellis may have been trying to show us — in graphic and convincing detail — that riches, fame, and the ability to do whatever we want are not enough to satisfy.
Not unless we have better imaginations than his characters.