By Ava Shaffer
Fleabag meets American Psycho in this psychological thriller set in the erotic London art world by debut author Eliza Clark. In a truly obsessive and skin-crawling style, this story is told from the perspective of Irina, an eccentric artist specializing in explicit photography of young men. Dramatically cast out from the art scene, struggling with cocaine addiction, and an all-around terrible person, Irina’s story is like watching a car crash unfold. Dark, unsettling, and compelling, Boy Parts details the nature of avant-garde art and how far someone is willing to go in pursuit of understanding.
“I don't know if you realize how you speak to people sometimes, the way you feed people table scraps. I know that's that what I get from you, table scraps, but because it's scraps from your table, it's better than a 3 course meal with someone else. And you've given me glimpses into your life, your real life, and I wonder if it's your fault. I wonder if you've got anything but scraps to give.”
I did not know what to expect when originally picking up Boy Parts. I knew the weather was getting colder and the leaves were changing color, so I was itching to read a thriller that would put me in the autumnal mood. This book definitely checks the mark of a psychological thriller, while still remaining rooted in a horrifying reality. In a lot of ways, this book reminded me of Jennifer’s Body (2009) and Bunny by Mona Awad, because they all expertly blend a dreary reality with fantastical representations of a woman losing her mind.
Irina as a character was really compelling to me, even though it was sometimes a real struggle to read through her inner dialogue. She is perhaps one of the worst characters I’ve ever read from the perspective of. She is mean, evil, insecure, and manipulative, but that’s part of the reason why I could never put the book down. Stepping into the twisted mind of such a cruel woman is reminiscent of the chilling narrative we see in American Psycho, where we can’t stand the character but can’t seem to look away.
A lot of the deeper themes and commentary in Boy Parts were crafted extremely well and blended seamlessly into the plot. In particular, I was especially interested in the moments that alluded to the meaning of obsession and how much violence we are willing to excuse all in the name of art.
“There’s a soft part of your brain. A place where you’re still just a child. Once someone’s poked the soft spot, the dent doesn’t go away. Like sticking your fingers in wet concrete.”
While reading, I found that the topicality in Boy Parts took me out of the story. Although some details added to the dark humor and setting of the story, specific mentions of modern movies and celebrities didn’t fit the world for me. For example, the line “She liked Harry Styles a few years ago, and now she likes that white-bread, absolute fucking baguette of a lad from Call Me by Your Name” cheapened the narrative for me, and not just because I’m a Harry Styles and Timothee Chalamet fan.
On that note, the dialogue and humor were sometimes lost on me. Not every joke landed, and a few of the British phrases definitely caught me off guard. I know this is a story set in a specific location within a specific timeframe, but there were moments when the humor just wasn’t working for me.
Overall, Boy Parts is not one I would recommend to the faint of heart or to those hoping to idolize a sexy artist girlboss. It’s a complex story of perversion, mania, and the darkness found in feminine beauty. That being said, I do think it deals with a lot of interesting questions I would have never considered without reading it.
Comentários