Less Than Zero

Despite their graphic nature, these chapters actually promise some salvation for Clay. To an extent not yet realized throughout the novel, Clay distances himself from his peers. Clay is far from unscathed to this point in the novel; he does little to distance himself from the reckless drug-abusers and shallow pleasure-seekers in his company; however, the way that Clay responds to these chapters’ especially graphic scenes seems to be different from the reactions of his friends. When they encounter the dead body in the alley, Clay admits, “I cannot take my eyes off of the dead boy” (174), although Trent and Spin casually smoke a joint, seemingly indifferent to the death. Clay remains silent, unable to participate in the conversation. Coupled with Julian’s heroin addiction, which forced him into prostitution, the core of this chapter represents a further cautionary tale that depicts the dangers of drug use.

The depictions of women in these chapters are sexually graphic and sadistic. For example, Ellis describes the nude body in great detail of a 12-year-old girl who is drugged, made up, tied to a bed, and left on a mattress in a sexualized position while she is barely conscious and has drugs injected into her arm. Subsequent conversation ensues between Rip, Spin, and Trent; however, Clay is again rendered speechless. These young men’s participation in this abusive sexual scene is, moreover, somewhat illustrative of Clay’s friend Daniel’s proposed screenplay: They have gang raped a young girl.

Although these chapters are the most alarming section of the book, they offer Ellis’s protagonist a chance at redemption. Before these chapters, Clay has distanced himself from his friend Daniel, who is too apathetic to return to college. These chapters witness Clay’s only—and uncharacteristically assertive—moment of standing up to his peers. He asks, “Why, Rip?” (176). Rip, as though completely accustomed to inflicting this sort of rape and abuse, responds at first with “You mean in there?” and eventually with, “If you want something, you have the right to take it. If you want to do something, you have the right to do it” (176). This sort of entitlement, which was demonstrated earlier in the text by expensive restaurants, clubs, and drugs, is revealed to have disastrous human consequences.

Finally, these chapters include Clay’s anagnorisis—or recognition. His realization of the extent of his privilege is captured finally with his claim to Rip, “You don’t need anything. You have everything” (176). Clay has heretofore been silent on the issue of evaluative judgments concerning his own status and lifestyle; however, his reaction to his friend’s sadism and rape reveals not only his own morality but also his keen appraisal of his own privileged circumstances.

Ultimately, the close of these chapters is violent and sadistic. They describe in full detail the self-dehumanization of a group of wealthy young men who lack empathy or a sense of moral rectitude. The novel’s voyeuristic and frank depiction of young people who are steeped in wealth and emotionally detached from others, having been raised in families that seem to be largely absentee, asserts that having everything does not only fail to guarantee happiness; it may preclude it.

Ellis’s characters lack a sense of concern for or connection with others, although Clay seems to suggest that there is some prospect for creating a broader sense of shared humanity after he escapes the city. The characters are feckless and lack the sense of purpose or human connectedness that Clay admits to longing for in these closing chapters.