In some way, it is inherent to horror to be extreme. Take for example any situation or state, even something positive like happiness or a relationship, and drive it to the extreme, make too much of it, make it excessive and cross a certain limit, and it will, in my opinion, end up being horror. The bigger the contrast between the starting point and the end, the more interesting to me.
But take a thing which isn’t associated with positivity at all, like an eating disorder, a situation strongly related to the feelings of wanting to disappear or losing control of one’s life, manifesting itself in an excessive control over the body, a nightmare situation for some, and drive that further and you have hell. #thighgap is hellish in that sense.
I want to be nothing but bone. I want to disappear.
The life of former aspiring filmmaker Louanne, now skinny model Helene Troy in LA is, of course, a very dark and sharpened version of where an eating disorder can lead if left to blossom in an environment which endorses and encourages it - biting critique of that very environment that is LA of course included.
The extremeness which marks the plot in #thighgap doesn’t spare its characters: there’s really not one remotely likable character in this book, except maybe the uber driver. From her extremely superficial crush, to the film director she casually hooks up with, to her therapist - every single male character actively contributes to Helen sinking deeper and deeper into the fangs of anorexia. Helen herself acts out of a need for a sense of superiority, even though we’re shown where that comes from, our compassion for her is limited.
But anyway, this was great, I can't remember the last time I finished a book in one day and even wrote its review within the same day. Looking at the author’s page I see influences like Brett Easton Ellis or Chuck Palahniuk and I definitely see that.
Favorite quote – “I can’t tell if he’s hitting on me, or if he’s just gay.” – lol, so Berlin!