Party Monster
A Fabulous But True Tale of Murder in Clubland
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4,0 • 1 valutazione
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- 15,99 €
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- 15,99 €
Descrizione dell’editore
Now a motion picture starring Macaulay Culkin and Seth Green, Party Monster is a "vastly entertaining, scarily well-written and horrifically funny book" (The Baltimore Sun) that depicts a dazzling, dizzying descent into hell—New York's downtown club scene, where dancing, sex, drugs, and murder were just part of the everyday experience. True crime has never been more fun.
When Party Monster was first published, it created a storm of controversy for its startlingly vivid, strikingly fresh, and outrageous depiction of the hedonistic world of the '90s New York City club kids, for whom nothing was too outré—including murder. Nominated for the Edgar Award for best true crime book of the year, it also marked the debut of an audaciously talented writer, James St. James, who himself had been a club kid and close friend and confidant of Michael Alig, the young man convicted of killing the drug dealer known as Angel. This is the inside story of life in clubs like The Tunnel and The Limelight and hanging with leading lights like Keith Haring and RuPaul and the drugs, sex, music, and mayhem that existed during the heyday of New York City club culture.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
When suspected drug dealer Angel Melendez disappeared in March 1996, the arrest of party promoter Michael Alig, impresario of the debaucherous "club-kid" scene of the early 1990s, sent shock waves through the New York City club scene. Alig and his roommate were later convicted of the grisly murder and dismemberment of Melendez. According to St. James, who describes himself as "a rather needy diva" and Alig's "best friend," the conviction was no surprise: days after the murder, Alig had confessed to him while they did drugs together in Alig's apartment. St. James's account of the rise and fall of Michael Alig is a most unconventional contribution to the body of true crime. Mixing dish on the outrageous exploits of club queens with "the running commentary of a babbling drug addict--me," St. James fuses the unrepentant humor and narcotic gusto of Hunter S. Thompson with pure camp--and the result is a flamboyant and engrossing first-person narrative. But while St. James's flashy approach is artful and engaging, it ultimately serves to solidify the tabloid nature of his tale. St. James has no sympathy for the victim of the crime. The closest thing to emotion on display is St. James's obsessive need to document the highs and lows of life with the maddening Alig and his own self-pity at the end of his carousing days with Alig. "How superficial to say that because of a murder, I didn't feel like dressing up anymore!" Yes, and how.
