How to Rape a Straight Guy
by
I’ve never been to California, unless you count one layover when I was bumped from my direct flight from New York to Vegas and wound up with a few airport hours waiting for a connection. That said – everything in this book (including the setting) feels gritty and real. This is a reality I’m inundated with and drowning in.
The narrator, Curt, is beyond reprehensible. The psychological and physical damage done to him, which in turn he inflicts on others renders redemption moot. There’s something quite horrifying about his skewed way of thinking that unfortunately reminds me too much of people I see all around me –all the time. That euphoric sense of freedom Curt finds by embracing his inner predator, the monster he lets out to play – I get that. I liken it to staring into the figurative abyss – rubbernecking for a glimpse of hell.This is a terrible book; too many horrifying truths woven into the backdrop of atrocity after atrocity. Read it if you can stomach it. There’s a floodgate holding in a full spectrum of emotional flotsam and jetsam. Words that shouldn’t be said, but needed a voice and found one with Sullivan – or Chad – no Curt. Skip this book if this little slice of Americana is something you rather not acknowledge.
I gave it two stars because like seemed to be the absolutely wrong word to associate with this book despite its compelling nature. It was more than just okay, but that was all I could offer.
The horror and truth in this book is seamlessly interchangeable though galvanized by lies. So yes, I recommend it, but then again I most certainly do not.
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