jenny.'s Reviews > Snuff

Snuff by Chuck Palahniuk
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's review
Jun 08, 2008

did not like it
Recommended for: anyone without a brain

** spoiler alert ** Good thing that I borrowed this book.

However, I've got to keep it on my hands for three more weeks, since, with all the gas prices going up, the only time I can go to the library is when I have to return all my books at once, which is my mother's new, adopted policy in an effort to save money spent on gas.

I approached this book with biased indifference (Ha! An oxymoron!); biased, because I had not been too impressed with Rant (Does anyone even remember what that story was about? Some time travelling deja vu of rabies and race cards? What?), and indifferent, because I didn't really care about this story, but I did try to give it a try. I really, truly, honestly did.

Like most people pointed out on here, the topic of the story sparked interest, in our modern, perverted minds. Perhaps this would be a comeback for Palahniuk, after being dropped to rock bottom with Rant. You know how that works, right? People undergo a cycle of the worst of the worst, and when you go so deep, when you've truly reached rock bottom, well, the only way you can go is up, right? Right.

However, this is not the case.

I wanted to put the book down at the first paragraph. Somehow, the word "dude" stuck into a paragraph twelve dozen times is quite a turn-off. Still, I remembered -- this is a book about porn. Of course people will act in this manner! -- and alas, I persevered. (I regret doing that. I should have stuck to reading The Life of Pi or even re-reading The Secret Garden or something, for fuck's sake.)

We all know that Palahniuk is a mediocre writing, but sometimes, just sometimes, his writing is good, right? Not good in the sense that his works are overfilling with eloquence, but good in that refreshing, mind-boggling, twists? Don't expect that in the novel; I was pissed how the character seemed to "reveal" himself in the beginning (number 72), but then -- and what the fuck? -- Sheila comes into the lime light? (Someone please explain to me the workings of Palahniuk's brain. I'm not sure I quite understand anymore.) Like, what kind of lame twist was that? It didn't even make the remotest of sense to me.

Why I even finished this book, I don't know. It was more like a trivia book filled with useless information that no one really cares about* (Marilyn Monroe cutting one of her heels shorter? Lucille Ball refusing to undergo plastic surgery?) and some really, really, really awful titles for porn films.

* I realise now that trivia books are filled with useless information that no one really cares about, thus proving myself to be redundant! But occasionally, trivial matters can be quite interesting matters, just, uh, not for this novel. Not at all.
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