I am not fan of nihilism of any form. Turning towards self destruction, even with taking whole world in flames with oneself is idiotic move that does not solve anything. It is equivalent of childs tantrum.

But as author shows when people are pushed to the edge they will follow those that give them meaning. And in more cases than not, this ends up in disaster.

And story of our antihero begins. From the very beginning pushed toward people whose misery will make him feel better (another so common streak of human character) he will become a cornerstone of new movement, so called Fight Club. Hand to hand, bare knuckle, combat between two men, often to the very brink of death, is a leveling field between members of the club. They might be coming from various spheres of society but in combat they are equal, members of secret brotherhood. Here they can be unburdened by ever suffocating society, can relax and be themselves.

This might have been weird in 1990s but today with more than visible division encouraged even by political powers, with quite an economical pressure, and unhealthy society bent on eating its own and constant pressure to keep ones thoughts to oneself (once thought to be trademark of Eastern block but today very present all over the world coupled with even society encouraged snitching and finger pointing with serious repercussions) more and more people are pushed to breaking point, without means of venting out their anxiety and frustration.

As a result societies like one in the novel, anarchistic in nature, bent only on violence and destruction, will pop up in entire political spectrum. Lots of people are feeling trapped and are seeking people with same ideas and principles. If one thinks this is just fiction I would refer to Europe post WW1 and arious armed gangs (again from all parts of political life) that roamed their nations and fought for political dominance.

Problem is that once out, genie cannot be put back into the bottle, as rather comic attempts of our antihero show.

This is rather gory novel with some very disturbing, and lets be honest, disgusting elements to it, that are so interesting to young rebels that need those few years of rebellion before ending up as cogs in the machine (like it happened to all those hippies in 60's) but also that one, with age, understand they play no role, except for tantrum acts. All characters are very vivid and dialogues are very interesting, expecially the way our antihero tells the story, one can actually feel the pressure he is under.

Path to madness and views of absolute nihilism and (self)destruction might be very tempting at times, but once taken it can bring only insanity, not just to the person suffering but to everyone around.

Excellent novel, keeps reader glued to the pages 'til the very end. ( )

Story: 8 / 10
Characters: 8
Setting: 7
Prose: 3

Since it was such a short book, it is probably a much better read if you haven't seen the movie (as I had). Nevertheless, I was able to enjoy the differences in the final 3rd of the book. ( )

I know this novel gets compared to The Graduate a great deal. But to me it is closer to Being There. Something that I can't tell if it is a satire or a work that you have to laugh at more than with.

The big problem I have with it is that it is for Gen X what the Okay Boomer meme is for a different generation. The entire work is a rant against the world that the character inherited. But I think the conflicts aren't really a problem. He's really just grappling with the problem of modernity, and not realizing that the hand he was dealt forces him to come up with solutions on his own. And at the end of the day, he has being White, male, privileged, and able-bodied to fall back on. I didn't understand what the problem was.

Lastly, the ending was improved greatly int he film. The story here doesn't resolve itself as much as it merely stops. Which is always a problem for me.

Still, the writer uses a compact prose, has some interesting ideas, and a few of the recurring jokes are okay. It gets a marginal recommendation for the time capsule that it is. ( )

Surprisingly weak for being his big hit. Choke was better and much funnier. American Psycho, the main dicklit rival, is a lot more transgressive and funnier as well. Fight Club captures a hole in the modern male psyche but doesn't really do a lot with it other than point to it being there. ( )

In the end, I found "Fight Club" to be both innovative and inspiring. Although the subtext is deeply cynical, it is never smug or pretentious. Palahniuk's view and vision is multi-faceted, multi-leveled, and engrossing. I am also impressed that a book written in a quasi-experimental style, like this one, ended up achieving such a high level of commercial success. The plot, though not classically linear, contains great momentum, like a supercollider that circles back onto itself. The end of the novel is mysterious--who lives, who dies, I'm not entirely sure. Nonetheless, the symbolism contained within the conclusion of this work is clear. This dark satire, as it has been referred to in several other reviews of this book that I have read, vividly exposes the psyche, and / or state or being, of the typical 21st century American male (given that there is only one prominent female character in this novel) -- who, in having his identity bound up in the ethical shortcomings of the materialistic lifestyle, resulting from the "age of information" / service economy-influenced society, has become effectively impotent. The author "smashes the forms" of the current state of American life and prophesies a dark time of nihilism and anarchism. "Tyler Durden", the man and the metaphor, pulverizes, grinds, and disintegrates all of the non-essential garbage we come into contact with everyday, and then blows that dust into the wind; only through destruction will the planet be cleansed and made new once again. After reading "Fight Club", I also saw the film version (directed by David Fincher) for the first time; to its credit, it follows the book quite faithfully (except for the neo-Hollywood-style happy ending).
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