Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. CRINGE. ( )

This book is so ridiculous. Bland characters, bad dialogue, the plot doesn’t even get good until the halfway point. Brite was clearly inspired by Dahmer. Yes, parts of the book were gross but I felt Brite strove so hard to be edgy and ended up overshooting and became silly. Also, how many times did we need to be reminded of Tran’s “oriental eyes” or Asian androgyny? ( )

Listened to the audiobook 7 years later -

I loved this book when I was younger but as I grow older and less desensitized to violence it feels like... a lot. Mr. Brite is my transsexual Dennis Cooper, William S. Burroughs and Irvine Welsh all wrapped in one and I love him for it.

I was shocked at how quickly I was drawn into this book. Sure it may be distasteful to read about serial killers and cannibals but I found it interesting and like anything I'd ever read. Poppy also has a beautiful way of writing, which made it all the more enjoying to read.

Of course it is a tragic tale of LGBT lovers but that's a trope so played that I wasn't even hurt by it.

I actually liked Andrew the most, as he seemed the most interesting out of the cast of characters. Jay is a close second (it's obvious I loved their relationship the most). However I found things with Luke and Tran tiring. Their relationship was only bred off of superficial and racial fetishizing, which really didn't sit well with me personally. Tran was a tiring character, definitely someone who should know better about what he was getting into. Hence his death was imminent.

Despite what I previously mention, Luke is also an interesting character and you find yourself sympathizing with him by the end of the book. A prime example on how lost love can drive someone wild. But justice was served.

5 stars, I'm sure I'll reread this book and recommend it to a couple people. ( )

Maybe the most terrifying book I've ever read, even more so than [b:The End of Alice|75479|The End of Alice|A.M. Homes|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1170875930s/75479.jpg|2702599], another book about a child killer written by a woman. The whole book is wet and diseased, rich, sweet and sick. It's New Orleans. It also reaffirmed that if you need to find somewhere for a monster to live, you put them in the same house in New Orleans, on Royal Street, where Lestat de Lioncourt lives, where Jay Byrne lives. Perhaps an untapped gateway to hell? ( )