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I debated about whether to use the book I’m going to discuss today, but in the end I decided it was just too interesting to pass up. The book, which is more than 10 years old now, is Chuck Palahniuk’s “Fight Club.”
The reason for my hesitation is that this thing is intentionally and thoroughly appalling on a number of levels, but there are several facets of it that make all the offensive content worth it.
First, the work features a lot of what I’m going to call disenfranchisement with ideals of masculinity, some of which comes across as important although occasionally unintentional social criticism and some of which just looks like pitiful whining from the male entitlement camp.
Either way it’s an interesting look at some aspects of societal gender roles that don’t get much discussion in more academic and/or feminist contexts. In a way, “Fight Club” is about all the things that men hate about being men, which isn’t something that sees much discussion but, in spite of odd bursts of sexist resentment, gets an interesting presentation here.
A second set of informal themes in the book center around anarchy and/or a violent backlash against some of the more insidious and pervasive aspects of corporate culture.
The story’s protagonist, an unnamed narrator, eventually develops a split personality (in this case a charismatic, chaotic evil twin named Tyler Durden) as a result of his inability to escape or make sense of his hideously unethical but extravagantly well paying 9-to-5 job. The strain eventually leads both personalities to adopt terrible sets of social behavior and to co-found the underground fight clubs for which the book is named.
There are plenty of further layers of thematic analysis possible, but before I run out of space, I want to mention one of my favorite characters in the book: Marla Singer, who is both the narrator’s girlfriend and Tyler’s.
Interestingly, she seems aware that she’s dating someone with two distinct personalities, but simply isn’t bothered by it. Marla is, in a lot of ways, an exact female counterpart for Tyler and the narrator: deeply dysfunctional and disturbed, but smart and funny and completely fearless of the social norms that have warped her into the person she is.
There’s not enough to the relationship to turn the book into a love story, but I really and truly enjoy the fact that mixed in with all the hate and anger and violence are two characters who can’t escape the inevitable human situation of simply liking one another.
I’ll wrap up with a stern readers’ advisory about all KINDS of adult content, but go ahead and recommend the book anyway as being sharply critical, unselfconscious, weird, funny and, above all, still an engaging and relevant read well after it’s original publication. If you get in a fight this week, don’t blame me.
I debated about whether to use the book I’m going to discuss today, but in the end I decided it was just too interesting to pass up. The book, which is more than 10 years old now, is Chuck Palahniuk’s “Fight Club.”
The reason for my hesitation is that this thing is intentionally and thoroughly appalling on a number of levels, but there are several facets of it that make all the offensive content worth it.
First, the work features a lot of what I’m going to call disenfranchisement with ideals of masculinity, some of which comes across as important although occasionally unintentional social criticism and some of which just looks like pitiful whining from the male entitlement camp.
Either way it’s an interesting look at some aspects of societal gender roles that don’t get much discussion in more academic and/or feminist contexts. In a way, “Fight Club” is about all the things that men hate about being men, which isn’t something that sees much discussion but, in spite of odd bursts of sexist resentment, gets an interesting presentation here.
A second set of informal themes in the book center around anarchy and/or a violent backlash against some of the more insidious and pervasive aspects of corporate culture.
The story’s protagonist, an unnamed narrator, eventually develops a split personality (in this case a charismatic, chaotic evil twin named Tyler Durden) as a result of his inability to escape or make sense of his hideously unethical but extravagantly well paying 9-to-5 job. The strain eventually leads both personalities to adopt terrible sets of social behavior and to co-found the underground fight clubs for which the book is named.
There are plenty of further layers of thematic analysis possible, but before I run out of space, I want to mention one of my favorite characters in the book: Marla Singer, who is both the narrator’s girlfriend and Tyler’s.
Interestingly, she seems aware that she’s dating someone with two distinct personalities, but simply isn’t bothered by it. Marla is, in a lot of ways, an exact female counterpart for Tyler and the narrator: deeply dysfunctional and disturbed, but smart and funny and completely fearless of the social norms that have warped her into the person she is.
There’s not enough to the relationship to turn the book into a love story, but I really and truly enjoy the fact that mixed in with all the hate and anger and violence are two characters who can’t escape the inevitable human situation of simply liking one another.
I’ll wrap up with a stern readers’ advisory about all KINDS of adult content, but go ahead and recommend the book anyway as being sharply critical, unselfconscious, weird, funny and, above all, still an engaging and relevant read well after it’s original publication. If you get in a fight this week, don’t blame me.
