This page is a perpetual work in progress. Glamorama is just way too dense of a text to pretend there’ll ever be an end to an analysis of it. Yup, cue the image.
Glamorama is a novel by Bret Easton Ellis, known by most as the author of American Psycho. His stories focus on unreliable, narcissistic, sometimes depraved narrators... Victor Ward, the narrator of Glamorama, is just that but also a bit different.
"We'll slide down the surface of things," a lyric from the U2 song, "Even Better Than The Real Thing", is one that replays throughout the novel for good reason. At its core, Glamorama is a story that Victor believes the reader will like. He doesn't like stories with "frills," he just wants the "the lowdown," even if the lowdown is hard and confusing to follow.
Despite his attempt to obfuscate the story, the details (the "truth") are revealed to us anyway, following the reasoning of his go-to soundbite: "The better you look, the more you see."
After sitting on this story for 2-ish years now, I think I can finally try and explain Glamorama....
roses, confetti, fog, mirrors, doubles, cameras, image distortion, yeahp, the past and future.
Victor is a lover and victim of celebrity culture. He enjoys witty one-liners, famous actors, and anything that's considered "in". He is described by Ellis to have "encyclopedic knowledge of pop music" and shows this off by inserting music lyrics into conversation. His favorite music seems to be highly acclaimed music from the late 70s/80s, as he mainly references Oasis's "(What's The Story) Morning Glory?" and Fleetwood Mac's "Rumours".
He is the result of an image-obsessed world. A world where, as Ellis portrays it, beauty is synonymous with destruction (like thorns that come with a rose, the rose being a recurring motif in Glamorama). As such, he is deeply insecure and easily swayed by who he considers above him. The story's antagonists recognize his malleability and take advantage of it.
This insecurity accounts for his actions: why he acts/models, why he quotes others so much, why he can't decide. His indecision is what sets off Glamorama's chain of events and is seen in the doubling of things (the doppelgängers, the film crews, the counterparts, the girlfriends). Victor, who (thinks he) wants everything, can only have one of each, which is why every duplicate gets killed off. Unfortunately, this rule applies to him as well, and he is killed in favor of "the better Victor."
oh my god 🙂
Alongside the overt display of suffering, there is an undercurrent of sadness that runs throughout the story. Memory, the past, is a topic Ellis novels often touch upon, mainly how it haunts the present no matter how much you try to escape it.
In Glamorama, this is often seen with the death of his mother.
His mother (who goes unnamed, another way of trying to erase the past) is described as a ghost that watches him. She represents his awareness of just how far he's gone and the guilt he feels because of it. She recurringly appears, even brought up by figures from his childhood (that he can't remember) and though he never says how much he meant to her, her importance is conveyed best through this paragraph:
The fuel unleashes something, forces the passengers to comprehend a simple fact: that they have to let people go—mothers and sons, parents and children, brothers and sisters, husbands and wives.
... with all of these relationships in perspective to Victor (it goes: his mother, his family, his sister, Chloe), his mother comes first.
(I've written about Victor's relationship to Chloe before, but no harm in trying again.)
The most important items in a list are the first and the last. Chloe is last in the above quote, indicative of a lot of things: her significance, her death, what could have been, and his dismissiveness of her.
Theirs wasn't the most flowery relationship and Victor makes it hard to understand if they even loved each other. He leaves us with the worst aspects, of only approaching her for her fame, of all their arguments and never their resolutions.
I think their love is best shown through the sanctuary of privacy they give each other.
Chloe is the only person Victor can attempt to be a person around. With her, the cameras (being watched, studied, feeling like you have to act a certain way) are gone. Victor is fine letting cameras into his apartment, but interestingly, Chloe's apartment is never filmed. When he's alone with her... it's really only the two of them.
This is why, as she bleeds out in their previously unfilmed hotel room, the camera crew comes in. (Her death is treated as a spectacle. Horrifying!)
Besides the film crew (which I may never fully get into), Jamie is probably the most complicated aspect of Glamorama.
She's supposed to be the femme fatale, and yet we find out that she's under Bobby's control and that she supposedly has a mission, but it doesn't really feel like she does much of anything, besides fuss with Victor.
In other words, in a story that is mostly black and white, Jamie is so obviously grey, something Victor calls her out on:
“I think this whole thing has gotten out of hand,” Jamie says.
I start giggling uncontrollably until a sudden spasm of fear causes my eyes to water, my face to contort. “That’s … all?” I cough, wiping my eyes, sniffling. “Just … out of hand?” My voice sounds high and girlish.
“Victor—”
“You are not playing by the rules,” I say, my chest tightening. “You are not following the script.”
“There are no rules, Victor,” she says. “What rules? That’s all nonsense.”
While it's true that there aren't any rules in their situation, Glamorama still follows the typical "good guy versus bad guy" plotline. There may be forces like the film crews and Palakon that seem to not fit in, but it's obvious that they're "bad guys." They are the ones orchestrating the story's horrors, under the guise of simply being witnesses.
Just like the film crews, we're never given any explanation for Jamie. On the surface, she's simple. She's the ex-girlfriend Victor was sent to look for, who is a victim just like him, acting for multiple sides, until:
Her last words as she drifts off: “I’m … not … Jamie Fields,” is all she says.
insert more here
(jesus, what a two-parter)My legs had fallen asleep and a girl passing by told me she liked that story I read in a creative writing workshop. I nodded, ignored her, she moved on. I was fingering a condom that was lodged in my pocket. I was making a decision.
“I don’t take that class,” I told Jamie.
“No future, no future, no future—for you,” Jamie half-sang.
Ellis likes to account for characterisation even in the epigraphs. American Psycho's explain why he acts a certain way (Miss Manners and The Notes From the Underground) and lyrics he would no doubt relate to ((Nothing but) Flowers). They’re lengthy and they’re also Patrick trying to explain himself, in the hopes of someone understanding him.
Glamorama's are straight to the point and like everything else in Glam, intentionally confusing the reader, as they aren’t relevant until halfway through. Both are commentating on the conspiracy, on the "leaders" in Glam, specifically that "they've been here forever" and their terrorism not entirely being for the sake of terrorism.
(So, still confusing and following the MO of conspiracies. You’re never supposed to know.)
There was no time when you nor I nor these kings did not exist.
—Krishna
You make a mistake if you see what we do as merely political.
—Hitler
You know what else they are? One-liners. Sound bites.
Glamorama is a Neptunian story !!!!!!!!!!!
from "The Planets" by Richard Tarnas, Neptune is associated with:
(Highlighted is most pertinent to Glamorama)The subtle, formless, intangible, and invisible; with the unitive, timeless, immaterial, and infinite; with all that transcends the limited literal temporal and material world of concretely empirical reality: myth and religion, art and inspiration, ideals and aspirations, images and reflections, symbols and metaphors, dreams and visions, mysticism, religious devotion, universal compassion.
It is associated with the impulse to surrender separative existence and egoic control, to dissolve boundaries and structures in favor of underlying unities and undifferentiated wholes, merging that which was separate, healing and wholeness; the dissolution of ego boundaries and reality structures, states of psychological fusion and intimations of intrauterine existence, melted ecstasy, mystical union, and primary narcissism; with tendencies towards illusion and delusion, deception and self-deception, escapism, intoxication, psychosis, perceptual and cognitive distortions, conflation and confusion, projection, fantasy; with the bedazzlement of consciousness whether by gods, archetypes, beliefs, dreams, ideals, or ideologies; with enchantment, in both positive and negative senses.
As noted by Proteus Astrology, Neptune is the modern ruler of Pisces, Bret's Sun and chart ruler (which is really important). As he was writing Glamorama, he considered it to be his epic (need source on that?), so it's interesting that his ideal story ended up being the most Neptunian.
The associations of Neptune are everywhere. It’s in the modeling, the drugs, the conspiracies, the blurriness of it all…
“What?” she asks suddenly, turning around. “Why are you still here?”
“Because …” I smile sadly. “You’re … my ideal mate?”
“A mirror’s your ideal mate.”
“Maybe … ,” I start, haltingly. “Maybe if you didn’t expect so much from me you might not be so … disappointed,” I finally admit, and then, watching her reflection in the mirror, “Don’t cry.”
“I’m not crying,” she says, surprised. “I’m yawning.”
oh my god
Mirrors are another form of image. In Glamorama, they are used to show Victor's vanity, perception, reflection (well fucking duh). (It is really cool to me how they are used).
In the quote above, we see perception. He believes (or tries to?) that Chloe is head over heels for him, "addicted to love." Unable to look her in the eyes during a vulnerable moment, he chooses to look in the mirror, to see what he wants to see... and what he sees is wrong.
There are eight photographs of me… but my nose is different—wider, slightly flatter—and my eyes are set too close together; the chin is dimpled, more defined; my hair has never been cut so that it parts easily to one side.
Another compare and contrast. Patrick's problem is that he tries to conform too much to his idea of manliness, as indicated by his name. Named after Norman Bates, where “Nor Man” = not a man, “Bateman” means the opposite end of the spectrum: (Too Much Of) A Man. Victor, proclaimed "lover, not fighter" has the opposite problem. He doesn’t conform enough.
In some ways, Glamorama feels like a persecution of a man for indulging in his femininity..... (Ellis writing Victor as everything he finds “‘annoying and repellent’ about men in his generation” from “I am the fucking reaper”). He's a loser because not only can he not DECIDE. but whatever he "decides" to go after, he doesn't have the follow through to get it (like how "men" are supposed to be). (the only exception is the club but he left before he could reap the rewards, because HE WAS TOO BUSY FOLLOWING SOMEONE'S DIRECTIONS..)
(What's a man, according to Glam, anyways? We see a model (LOL) of an ideal man in Bobby. The masculine ...something.... wanting something, getting it. Owning your own schtick. Because Victor participating in feminine activities isn't the reason he's punished(? need different verb), it's because he can't win. Bobby can get away with it because he disses modeling, after a successful career. Even though he goes on to supposedly fail his other ventures later, he is still undeniably cool... or something. WAIT NO, because he is the one making decisions and failing on his own accord. Victor, on the other hand, is always following the script, doing it as an underling, or just plain being bad at it)
(so the [unfortunate] reality [yes the one we live in and the one glamorama upholds] is: masculinity is #1, femininity is #2.... which reminds me of this exchange
“Dad, life is tacky.”
“But you don’t need to win first prize.”
(i love how everyone who cares about victor is like Nooo you need to calm down and stop being such "a man"!! (even Chloe is like this, she was so totally okay with Victor being her stay-at-home boyfriend as seen in the hotel room. all her frustration with him not taking up a proper job was just misdirection from his negligence of her) but Victor is like "i have to be a man 😭😭😭 I HAVE TO")
I’m lost and grinning, my eyes red, caught in the flash, my expression addressing the camera, asking do you like this? are you pleased?
[They're] hanging out, staring at us impassively, like we’re for sale or something, and let’s just face it—as if.
“A CK One ad. Here it looks as if there are two guys—though what the hell do I know, it could be two gals—and yes, they’re kissing each other and you’re looking on with your hands down the front of your pants. Why are your hands down the front of your pants? Is this gesture supposed to tell us that CK One is a reliable product?”
“Sex sells, dude.”
“What happened?” I’m asking.
“Totally … fucked … up,” [Jamie] whispers, smiling.
I swear to god one of the key aspects of tragedies is that everything that can go wrong - does. ?
Everyone fucks up, it's not just Victor. it's a continuation of American Psycho's "I thought adults were supposed to know things :(". Adults don't know anything. They just get better at hiding this fact. Victor never learns this so he becomes the scapegoat.
This reminds me of the conversation where Chloe tells Victor that “everything he knows is wrong.” And yeah, she’s not wrong, but Chloe isn’t 100% in the know either. She’s as representative of innocence as Victor. She freely gives out her schedule to Alison, who isn’t asking because they’re friends, but only to catch Victor in a lie. She considers Lauren her “best friend” and there is no way Lauren wasn’t using her to further her agenda. (Okay fine and the fucking hotel scene where she trusts Bobby’s wine gift. FUCK.)
Victor is a scapegoat in terms of a lot of things. The outcome of Damien’s nightclub, his father’s success in the presidential election, and the actions of the terrorist organization all fell to his shoulders.
Throughout the novel this blame is reiterated over and over to Victor. While there are some real mistakes that Victor commits, the constant placement of blame really makes it seem like Victor is the only character to fuck anything up. Nothing good is explicitly said about Victor and people undermine him. Victor’s narration style doesn’t help, either. He oftentimes has no real input on what’s happening and just helplessly watches.
So not only is Victor a scapegoat within the context of his world, but also throughout the telling of the story. When other characters make a mistake, there’s no onslaught of insults directed towards them. Sometimes, they aren’t acknowledged to be mistakes at all.
The first character to really open this idea of “other characters make mistakes too” is Russell, Victor’s bodyguard. Immediately, knowing how the story ended up, it’s obvious that Russell didn’t succeed in protecting Victor.
Russell’s mistakes:
The second character that came to mind is Marina. There is a pattern beginning to emerge from this. The biggest mistakes, interestingly, came from side characters that operated under someone else. Oh, shit, oh shit is this supposed to parallel Victor working for Damien in the beginning? Oh fuck.
Marina’s goal was to keep him from falling into Bobby’s hands.
And it was so easy, considering who Victor is as a person (desperate). She didn’t even have to do anything and Victor was ready to follow her. After just one fucking conversation with her, Victor changes his mind on finding Jamie.
So why does she deny him? Why is it almost like she doesn’t want him to go there?
“I want to come to Paris,” I say suddenly.
Marina stops walking and turns to me. “Why?”
“Can I?” I ask. “I mean, we don’t have to stay at the same place but can I like travel with you?”
“What about London?”
“London can wait.”
“You’re being impulsive,” she says apprehensively, resuming walking.
“It’s one of my many really really great qualities.”
“Listen, let’s just …” She sighs. “Let’s just see how things go.”
The only reason that I can come up with is that she couldn’t seem too excited at his proposition, that it would be too obvious what her goal was. Or that she was also working for another party that would benefit from Victor going to London.
I wanted to say that this was the biggest fumble, and not what Russell did. It could have been, if not for her “disappearance,” which meant Victor was going to London no matter what.
(It’s one of Victor’s mistakes, actually, being too honest about wanting to follow Marina. It’s understandable that he would volunteer this information to the the Wallaces, but to Palakon? The one who hired him to go to London? Being too honest is just one of Victor’s faults, really. Shame.)
victor wake up they fucking turned you into a dog (insert quotes here)
"THEY REALLY TOOK VICTOR OUT LIKE A DOG I FUCKING CAN'T. EVERYONE ELSE GOT TORTURED TO DEATH BUT VICTOR GETS A CLEAN SHOT THROUGH THE HEAD. AND THEY PUT HIM DOWN BECAUSE HE CAN'T BE USED ANYMORE."
misc bullet points.
Victor dies at 27. hey man welcome to the 27 club
Victor is sensitive to light but also “cannot see very well in the dark.” Poor thing. No wonder everyone thinks he’s stupid. His shit vision is also representative of his poor perception to the truth. But even when it's in front of him, he uses his sunglasses to shield himself from it.
“Ellis’s achievement is pristine .… What’s fresh and arresting in Glamorama is its uncompromising triviality, its rigorous transience .… Ellis has written this way before, of course, but never with such crazy focus. His run-on sentences only seem lazy, his strings of references only feel ad-hoc; in fact they’re as calculated as Victor’s guest lists. This premeditation shows most clearly in the dialogue, which manages to be pointed and hilarious just when it seems most casual and screwy.”
—The New Yorker
Victor's exposure to the real has supressed - almost to the point of indifference - his obsession with the minutiae of social interaction.
—Dariius Bell, Epochal Anxieties and Fixations