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Damned Hardcover – October 18, 2011
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This is the afterlife as only Chuck Palahniuk could imagine it: a twisted inferno where The English Patient plays on endless repeat, roaming demons devour sinners limb by limb, and the damned interrupt your dinner from their sweltering call center to hard-sell you Hell. He makes eternal torment, well, simply divine.
- Print length256 pages
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherDoubleday
- Publication dateOctober 18, 2011
- Dimensions5.82 x 0.94 x 8.6 inches
- ISBN-109780385533027
- ISBN-13978-0385533027
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Editorial Reviews
Review
Praise for Damned:
"Palahniuk's 12th novel is just as gleefully, vividly, hilariously obscene as you'd expect —and it's also a hell of a lot of fun. [He] has always been known for his pitch-dark satire, and it's evident here in his depiction of the underworld.... As a young adult novel, it's surprisingly sweet, hopeful and empowering; as a satire, it's funny, irreverent and hugely entertaining. 'Hell is other people,' mused Sartre. Leave it to Chuck Palahniuk to tell us that might not be such a bad thing after all."—Michael Schaub, NPR
"Damned is as lively as a book about the dead can be....the Judy Blume book from hell, just as Mr. Palahniuk intended."—Janet Maslin, the New York Times
"And now, from the Well, What Did You Expect file: Chuck Palahniuk imagines a great hell. His matter-of-fact underworld is the charming setting of Damned, a...very funny coming-of-age (after-you're-dead) novel....Palahniuk's descriptions of hell are inspired, crafted with great comic flair and the brilliant satirical stipulation that the Christian fundamentalists are right: Hell is literal, dinosaur bones were faked by Satan and among the unspeakable demons slurping about is Robert Mapplethorpe....[A] winning and funny book, and near the end, when Maddie seems to be ascending toward a sequel (Purgatory, anyone?), you'll likely want to read that one, too."—Jess Walter, Washington Post
"Damned is gross, sick, nasty, silly, all the things you want from the merry madman of American letters, Chuck Palahniuk. How can you not be instantly transfixed by an opening like this?: 'Are you there, Satan? It's me, Madison. I'm just now arrived here, in Hell, but it's not my fault except for maybe dying from an overdose of marijuana.'
And so begins the kind of goofy, but hypnotically endearing tale of a 13-year-old girl who, completely lost in life, finally starts to discover herself in Palahniuk's demented version of the afterlife....With Damned, [he]opens the fire hose to full bore again, stripping away the veneer on American society and showing us the yucky parts we don't want to see."—Chris Talbot, AP
"...[T]horoughly original...satiric and horrifying, enough so you'll want to repent after you read."—Christian DuChateau, CNN
"Some Fight Club trademarks--youthful disaffection, violence, gross-out humor, a dystopic setting, cultural satire as an extreme sport, a decent helping of third-act pathos--can be seen in...Damned. Even prepubescent Madison Spencer, the protagonist of Damned, has traits that could be seen as Tyler Durden-esque. She's disaffected from society (i.e., those still alive), she kicks serious butt and is a cultural critic who becomes an unlikely leader....It's hard to pitch the broadly satirical Damned as a useful replacement narrative of life after death, but it's a rollicking adventure of Swiftian proportions, a Valleyfair of the Underworld that, incidentally, shows an overweight teenage girl bringing Satan himself down a peg."—Claude Peck, Minneapolis Star-Tribune
"Damned is typical of Palahniuk's work: a scathing satire that is unfiltered, caustic and smart....[His] descriptions of hell are priceless."—Rege Behe, Pittsburgh Tribune Review
"Even just its first few chapters reveal several layers of satiric humor, social commentary, Grand Guignol violence and heartbreaking insight....The narrator's blend of snark, precocious wit and unconcealed vulnerability and need is a combination as refreshing as the book is hard to put down."—Bill O'Driscoll, Pittsburgh City Paper
About the Author
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Are you there, Satan? It’s me, Madison. I’m just now arrived here, in Hell, but it’s not my fault except for maybe dying from an overdose of marijuana. Maybe I’m in Hell because I’m fat--a Real Porker. If you can go to Hell for having low self-esteem, that’s why I’m here. I wish I could lie and tell you I’m bone-thin with blond hair and big ta-tas. But, trust me, I’m fat for a really good reason.
To start with, please let me introduce myself.
How to best convey the exact sensation of being dead . . .
Yes, I know the word convey. I’m dead, not a mental defective.
Trust me, the being-dead part is much easier than the dying part. If you can watch much television, then being dead will be a cinch. Actually, watching television and surfing the Internet are really excellent practice for being dead.
The closest way I can describe death is to compare it to when my mom boots up her notebook computer and hacks into the surveillance system of our house in Mazatlan or Banff. “Look,” she’d say, turning the screen sideways for me to see, “it’s snowing.” Glowing softly on the computer would be the interior of our Milan house, the sitting room, with snow falling outside the big windows, and by long distance, holding down her Control, Alt and W keys, my mom would draw open the sitting room drapes all the way. Pressing the Control and D keys, she’d dim the lights by remote control and we’d both sit, on a train or in a rented town car or aboard a leased jet, watching the pretty winter view through the windows of that empty house displayed on her computer screen. With the Control and F keys, she’d light a fire in the gas fireplace, and we’d listen to the hush of the Italian snow falling, the crackle of the flames via the audio monitors of the security system. After that, my mom would keyboard into the system for our house in Cape Town. Then log on to view our house in Brentwood. She could simultaneously be all places but no place, mooning over sunsets and foliage everywhere except where she actually was. At best, a sentry. At worst, a voyeur.
My mom will kill half a day on her notebook computer just looking at empty rooms full of our furniture. Tweaking the thermostat by remote control. Turning down the lights and choosing the right level of soft music to play in each room. “Just to keep the cat burglars guessing,” she’d tell me. She’d toggle from camera to camera, watching the Somali maid clean our house in Paris. Hunched over her computer screen, she’d sigh and say, “My crocus are blooming in London. . . .”
From behind his open business section of the Times, my dad would say, “The plural is crocuses.”
Probably my mom would cackle then, hitting her Control and L keys to lock a maid inside a bathroom from three continents away because the tile didn’t look adequately polished. To her this passed for way-wicked, good fun. It’s affecting the environment without being physically present. Consumption in absentia. Like having a hit song you recorded decades ago still occupy the mind of a Chinese sweatshop worker you’ll never meet. It’s power, but a kind of pointless, impotent power.
On the computer screen a maid would place a vase filled with fresh-cut peonies on the windowsill of our house in Dubai, and my mom would spy by satellite, turning down the air-conditioning, colder and colder, with a tapping keystroke via her wireless connection, chilling that house, that one room, meat-locker cold, ski-slope cold, spending a king’s ransom on Freon and electric power, trying to make some doomed ten bucks’ worth of pretty pink flowers last one more day.
That’s what it’s like to be dead. Yes, I know the word absentia. I’m thirteen years old, not stupid--and being dead, ye gods, do I comprehend the idea of absentia.
Being dead is the very essence of traveling light.
Being dead-dead means nonstop, twenty-four/seven, three hundred sixty-five days a year . . . forever.
How it feels when they pump out all of your blood, you don’t want me to describe. Probably I shouldn’t even tell you I’m dead, because no doubt now you feel awfully superior. Even other fat people feel superior to Dead People. Nevertheless, here it is: my Hideous Admission. I’ll fess up and come clean. I’m out of the closet. I’m dead. Now don’t hold it against me.
Yes, we all look a little mysterious and absurd to each other, but no one looks as foreign as a dead person does. We can forgive some stranger her choice to practice Catholicism or engage in homosexual acts, but not her submission to death. We hate a backslider. Worse than alcoholism or heroin addiction, dying seems like the greatest weakness, and in a world where people say you’re lazy for not shaving your legs, then being dead seems like the ultimate character flaw.
It’s as if you’ve shirked life--simply not made enough serious effort to live up to your full potential. You quitter! Being fat and dead--let me tell you--that’s the double whammy.
No, it’s not fair, but even if you feel sorry for me, you’re probably also feeling pretty darn smug that you’re alive and no doubt chewing on a mouthful of some poor animal that had the misfortune to live below you on the food chain. I’m not telling you all of this to gain your sympathy. I’m thirteen years old, and a girl, and I’m dead. My name is Madison, and the last thing I need is your stupid condescending pity. No, it’s not fair, but it’s how people do. The first time we meet another person an insidious little voice in our head says, “I might wear eyeglasses or be chunky around the hips or a girl, but at least I’m not Gay or Black or a Jew.” Meaning: I may be me--but at least I have the good sense not to be YOU. So I hesitate to even mention that I’m dead because everyone already feels so darned superior to dead people, even Mexicans and AIDS people. It’s like when learning about Alexander the Great in our seventh-grade Influences of Western History class, what keeps running through your head is: “If Alexander was so brave and smart and . . . Great . . . why’d he die?”
Yes, I know the word insidious.
Death is the One Big Mistake that none of us EVER plans to make. That’s why the bran muffins and the colonoscopies. It’s how come you take vitamins and get Pap smears. No, not you--you’re never going to die--so now you feel all superior to me. Well, go ahead and think that. Keep smearing your skin with sunblock and feeling yourself for lumps. Don’t let me spoil the Big Surprise.
But, to be honest, when you’re dead probably not even homeless people and retarded people will want to trade you places. I mean, worms get to eat you. It’s like a complete violation of all your civil rights. Death ought to be illegal but you don’t see Amnesty International starting any letter-writing campaigns. You don’t see any rock stars banding together to release hit singles with all the proceeds going to solve MY getting my face chewed off by worms.
My mom would tell you I’m too flip and glib about everything. My mom would say, “Madison, please don’t be such a smart aleck.” She’d say, “You’re dead; now just calm down.”
Probably me being dead is a gigantic relief to my dad; this way, at least, he won’t have to worry about me embarrassing him by getting pregnant. My dad used to say, “Madison, whatever man ends up with you, he’s going to have his hands full. . . .” If my dad only knew.
When my goldfish, Mister Wiggles, died we flushed him down the toilet. When my kitten, Tiger Stripe, died I tried the same deal, and we had to call a plumber to snake the pipes. What a big mess. Poor Tiger Stripe. When I died, I won’t go into the details, but let’s say some Mr. Pervy McPervert mortician got to see me naked and pump out all my blood and commit God only knows what deranged carnal high jinks with my virginal thirteen-year-old body. You can call me glib, but death is about the biggest joke around. After all the permanent waves and ballet lessons my mom paid for, here I am getting a hot-spit tongue bath from some paunchy, depraved mortuary guy.
I can tell you, when you’re dead, you pretty much have to give up your demands about boundaries and personal space. Just understand, I didn’t die because I was too lazy to live. I didn’t die because I wanted to punish my family. And no matter how much I slag my parents, don’t get the idea that I hate them. Yes, for a while I hung around, watching my mom hunched over her notebook computer, tapping the keys Control, Alt, and L to lock the door of my bedroom in Rome, my room in Athens, all my rooms around the world. She keyboarded to close all my drapes after that, and turn down the air-conditioning and activate the electrostatic air filtration so not even dust would settle on my dolls and clothes and stuffed animals. It simply makes sense that I should miss my parents more than they miss me, especially when you consider that they only loved me for thirteen years while I loved them for my entire life. Forgive me for not sticking around longer, but I don’t want to be dead and just watching everybody while I chill rooms, flicker the lights, and pull the drapes open and shut. I don’t want to be simply a voyeur.
No, it’s not fair, but what makes earth feel like Hell is our expectation that it should feel like Heaven. Earth is earth. Dead is dead. You’ll find out for yourself soon enough. It won’t help the situation for you to get all upset.
II.
Are you there, Satan? It’s me, Madison. Please don’t get the impression that I dislike Hell. No, really, it’s way swell. Tons better than I expected. Honestly, it’s obvious you’ve worked very hard for a very long time on the roiling, surging oceans of scalding-hot barf, and the stinking sulfur smell, and the clouds of buzzing black flies.
If my version of Hell fails to impress you, please consider that to be my own shortcoming. I mean, what do I know? Probably any grown-up would pee herself silly, seeing the flying vampire bats and majestic, cascading waterfalls of smelly poop. No doubt the fault is entirely my own, because if I’d ever imagined Hell it was as a fiery version of that classic Hollywood masterpiece The Breakfast Club, populated, let’s remember, by a hypersocial, pretty cheerleader, a rebel stoner type, a dumb football jock, a brainy geek, and a misanthropic psycho, all locked together in their high school library doing detention on an otherwise ordinary Saturday except with every book and chair being blazing on fire.
Yes, you might be alive and Gay or Old or a Mexican, lording that over me, but consider that I’ve had the actual experience of waking up on my first day in Hell, and you’ll just have to take my word for what all this is like. No, it’s not fair, but you can forget about the fabled tunnel of bright, spectral-white light and being greeted by the open arms of your long-deceased grandma and grandpa; maybe other people have reported that blissful process, but consider that those people are currently alive, or they remained living for sufficient time to report on their encounter. My point is: Those people enjoyed what’s clearly labeled a “near-death experience.” I, on the other hand, am dead, with my blood long ago pumped out and worms munching on me. In my book that makes me the higher authority. Other people, like famous Italian poet Dante Alighieri, I’m sorry to say, simply hoisted a generous helping of campy make-believe on the reading public.
Thus, disregard my account of Hell at your own peril.
First off, you wake up lying on the stone floor inside a fairly dismal cell composed of iron bars; and take my stern advice--don’t touch anything. The prison cell bars are filthy dirty. If by accident you DO touch the bars, which look a tad slimy with mold and someone else’s blood, do NOT touch your face--or your clothes--not if you have any aspiration to stay looking nice until Judgment Day.
And do NOT eat the candy you’ll see scattered everywhere on the ground.
The exact means by which I arrived in the underworld remain a little unclear. I recall a chauffeur standing curbside somewhere, next to a parked black Lincoln Town Car, holding a white placard with my name written on it, MADISON SPENCER, in all-caps terrible handwriting. The chauffeur--those people never speak English--had on mirrored sunglasses and a visored chauffeur cap, so most of his face was hidden. I remember him opening the rear door so I could step inside; after that was a way-long drive with the windows tinted so dark I couldn’t quite see out, but what I’ve just described could’ve been any one of ten bazillion rides I’ve taken between airports and cities. Whether that Town Car delivered me to Hell, I can’t swear, but the next thing is I woke up in this filthy cell.
Probably I woke up because someone was screaming; in Hell, someone is always screaming. Anyone who’s ever flown London to Sydney, seated next to or anywhere in the proximity of a fussy baby, you’ll no doubt fall right into the swing of things in Hell. What with the strangers and crowding and seemingly endless hours of waiting for nothing to happen, for you Hell will feel like one long, nostalgic hit of déjà vu. Especially if your in-flight movie was The English Patient. In Hell, whenever the demons announce they’re going to treat everyone to a big-name Hollywood movie, don’t get too excited because it’s always The English Patient or, unfortunately, The Piano. It’s never The Breakfast Club.
In regard to the smell, Hell comes nowhere near as bad as Naples in the summertime during a garbage strike.
If you ask me, people in Hell just scream to hear their own voice and to pass the time. Still, complaining about Hell occurs to me as a tad bit obvious and self-indulgent. Like so many experiences you venture into knowing full well that they’ll be terrible, in fact the core pleasure resides in their very innate badness, like eating Swanson frozen chicken potpies at boarding school or a Banquet frozen Salisbury steak on the cook’s night out. Or eating really anything in Scotland. Allow me to venture that the sole reason we enjoy certain pastimes such as watching the film version of Valley of the Dolls arises from the comfort and familiarity of its very inherent poor quality.
Product details
- ASIN : 0385533020
- Publisher : Doubleday; First Edition (October 18, 2011)
- Language : English
- Hardcover : 256 pages
- ISBN-10 : 9780385533027
- ISBN-13 : 978-0385533027
- Item Weight : 15.2 ounces
- Dimensions : 5.82 x 0.94 x 8.6 inches
- Best Sellers Rank: #1,107,136 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- #2,090 in Dark Humor
- #9,072 in Fiction Satire
- #51,544 in Literary Fiction (Books)
- Customer Reviews:
About the author
Chuck Palahniuk's nine novels are the bestselling Snuff, Rant, Haunted, Lullaby and Fight Club, which was made into a film by director David Fincher, Diary, Survivor, Invisible Monsters, and Choke, which was made into a film by director Clark Gregg. He is also the author of the non-fiction profile of Portland Fugitives and Refugees and the non-fiction collection Stranger Than Fiction. He lives in the Pacific Northwest.
Customer reviews
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Learn more how customers reviews work on AmazonCustomers say
Customers find the book enjoyable and entertaining. They appreciate the interesting concept and creative perspective. The writing style is well-received, with a combination of naive and wise writing. Readers appreciate the vivid visuals and realistic characters. However, opinions differ on the pacing - some find it quick and simple, while others feel the writing gets repetitive.
AI-generated from the text of customer reviews
Customers find the book readable and enjoyable. They say it's an interesting read with a good story. Some readers enjoyed the idea and overall story, but others found it boring.
"...Read this book, but please don't take it seriously. It is just fun, and there is no sacred liberal- or conservative- or fascist- idea that is not..." Read more
"...In the mean time, sit back, relax, and enjoy this novel. As the last words of the book say: "To be continued..."" Read more
"...or Chuck Palahniuk... 1st off this is one of my all time favorite books by one of my all time favorite authors...." Read more
"...It's disgusting and hilarious. Palahniuk's unique style of wit is on every page of the story...." Read more
Customers enjoyed the story. They found it entertaining and funny, with a simple plot and metafiction twist. They appreciated the complex characters and twisting plots. The writing style included repetition of themes throughout the narrative. The best scene was the demon getting its head. While the book displayed great imagination, some felt it fell a bit short in terms of imagination.
"...Damned is one crazy novel. I loved it. His main character Madison is such a smart-ass, that you can't help but like her...." Read more
"...And always a great story that reels you in, you will pick up and not want to put down until finished...." Read more
"...who read deeper into the book than necessary, and the story is one of self discovery...." Read more
"...This is hell...as only Madison Spencer could narrate. Do you know how many cigarette butts you can cast ignorantly aside before eternal damnation?..." Read more
Customers find the concept interesting and creative. They appreciate the unconventional and unique point of view, as well as the humorous passages and occasional insights. The book explores topics in a unique way and keeps readers guessing with its sociopolitical commentary. However, some readers feel it falls short in terms of its overall quality.
"...Hell is such an interesting place in this book. It sure sounds better than the version religions peddle...." Read more
"...I enjoyed it because it has practical information, for people who read deeper into the book than necessary, and the story is one of self discovery...." Read more
"...is a story, of a sort, and everything that happens is interesting for its creativity and commentary on American consumerist society, but Madison does..." Read more
"...I'm sure other reviewers have noted that a fair chunk of this book is a bit derivative, but that actually was the point, I think...." Read more
Customers find the writing quality good. They say it's well-written in the author's style, with an explicit intertext and many quotes to draw from. The book has a detailed and comical tour of Hell, which is subtle yet powerful.
"...There were lots of quotable quotes from this book, some as long as half a page. The wit and satire are fun...." Read more
"...His writing is terse and to the point, like a contemporary Hemingway without all the subtlety and with a sense of humor...." Read more
"It was... you know... eh. Don't get me wrong, well written, with some solid Palahniukian things to say about... things and stuff. But overall?..." Read more
"...It's definitely a book that will make you think with many quotes to pull from when you experience them throughout your life." Read more
Customers enjoy the vivid and detailed visuals in the book. They find the characters realistic and relatable, and the story is written in a Judy Bloom-style.
"...points, yet still descriptive enough that I was able to draw a very detailed mental picture of the depths of hell in all its disgusting glory!..." Read more
"...It's vivid. Gross. Well-written. And it makes you want more...." Read more
"...THAT SIMPE MY DEEPEST GRATTITUDE & ADMIRATION TO YOU AMD YOU BEAUTIFUL WORK...THANK YOU, CHEVY666MEYAL ( A FAN )" Read more
"...Lovely. Simple. Ironic. We only think life is like hell because we're expecting heaven." Read more
Customers have different views on the pacing of the book. Some find it quick, fun, and easy to read. Others mention that the writing gets repetitive and slow, and feels like book writing instead of storytelling.
"...It's a short easy to read book like all of his others. I greatly enjoyed it." Read more
"...The landscape is littered with rotten candy, mountains of toe nail clippings and rivers of hot saliva...." Read more
"...It's a quick read but really good and slightly reminiscent of Christopher Moore. Probably due to its subject matter." Read more
"...I was pleasantly surprised at how much of an easy read it was!..." Read more
Customers have different views on the humor in the book. Some find it satirical and poignant, with funny takes on the afterlife. Others find it disturbing, cheesy, and predictable.
"...you know the authentic voice I'm talking about, it's basically annoyed constantly, and trying to sound like she's not giving a damn about virtually..." Read more
"...He is filled with ideas of American parody, disgusting anecdotes, and generally disturbing and amusing ideas...." Read more
"...laugh out loud funny but for the most part it's more satire and snark...." Read more
"...This story is light on theology and full on ironic humor. I loved the part about telemarketers from Hell...." Read more
Customers have mixed opinions about the character development. Some find the characters relatable and realistic, while others find the main character unlikable, the exposition dull, and the story lacking a sense of urgency or danger at the start.
"...excellent, imaginative alternative view of reality with a peculiarly charming protagonist...." Read more
"...Other than the demons at the start of the story, the characters didn't have a sense of urgency or danger...." Read more
"...in his descriptions of Madison's parents, and he is equally blunt creating his other characters. 👍..." Read more
"...lost their punches, the writing became more formulaic, the characters unworthy of care...." Read more
Reviews with images
So Much Fun, I Read It In A Day
Top reviews from the United States
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- Reviewed in the United States on January 18, 2012I don't qualify as an experienced Chuck Palahniuk fan, as this is the first novel of his I have read. The only other book of his I have read was his Portland, Oregon travel book, which having visited that city I found wonderfully descriptive. Damned is one crazy novel. I loved it. His main character Madison is such a smart-ass, that you can't help but like her. I don't think Chuck has done a totally convincing job at trying to talk like a 13 year old dead girl, but I really don't care. And I don't care if there are a few less than logical leaps in the plot either. This book was just plain entertaining. At first I read a chapter or two at a time, but by the time I was 2/3 of the way through the book I just kept reading and reading. Hell is such an interesting place in this book. It sure sounds better than the version religions peddle. So that's where all my fingernail clippings go! (Puzzled by this? Read the book.) Madison's parents are so over the top (a cross between Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt and Madonna)that you just can't help but laugh at them. Read this book, but please don't take it seriously. It is just fun, and there is no sacred liberal- or conservative- or fascist- idea that is not trashed. If you are easily offended, skip this book. Too bad if you are as this book is too much fun.
- Reviewed in the United States on December 3, 2011It's funny how a novel about Hell is what we all needed for Chuck Palahniuk to return from his three book slump of the past few years. I enjoyed Snuff more than others, but still was dissapointed. Pygmy was decent, but I was not a fan of the broken english. I enjoyed the style of Tell-All, but there wasn't much plot or story behind it.
It has been almost fifteen years or so since Chuck began writing Fight Club: A Novel, and he has changed a lot over his career. In some ways, for the worse. In some, for the better. But overall, "Damned" by Chuck Palahniuk is a hopeful promise for the future, a good return path for Chuck to start up his excellence again.
Damned is the story of little Madison, a young woman who wakes up one day to find herself damned to hell. As she prays... er, well, that's not the right word. As she solicits the idea of Satan to come and tell her what she did wrong, to give her meaning to her life, Madison tells the reader a story that stretches from her youngest memories to the most current event in the timeline. In Hell, she meets various characters, and most of them seem to get their own big "moments". Also, Hitler has a cameo.
I'm not going to lie, Damned is as funny as Palahniuk's earlier Choke. Although Madison is in a desperate situation, eternally damned to puberty and no "ta-tas", she has a lot of humor through her language and her tone. Like a lot of other Palahniuk protagonists, Madison is a rampant intellectual, so be prepared to learn a few things along the way, too.
As much as I would like to keep singing praises, I do need to address the problems of this book. There are definately scens that could have lasted about seven paragraphs shorter than they did. A lot of seemingly trivial events are stretched out to fill whol chapters, making each individual episode hit-or-miss. Also, I know this is paying homage to "The Breakfast Club", but there are parts where it seems like a downright rip-off (i.e. the whole supporting cast up until, like, page 200).
In the end, though, Damned is a solid entry in the career of Chuck Palahnkiuk, the first in a trilogy of novels concerining this Maddie Spencer. Apparently, the next one will be purgatory and the final entry in heaven. Oooohhh. The prospect of a modern Dante's Inferno strikes me as interesting. In the mean time, sit back, relax, and enjoy this novel. As the last words of the book say:
"To be continued..."
- Reviewed in the United States on October 6, 2013What to say about Dammed... or Chuck Palahniuk... 1st off this is one of my all time favorite books by one of my all time favorite authors. I have already preorded the sequel, Doomed. If you have ever seen Fight Club the movie and enjoyed it you will love any of his books. Yes this as well as all his other works have a dark, twisted side but also humorous. And always a great story that reels you in, you will pick up and not want to put down until finished. To enjoy this book you must have a darker sense of humor. Yes its about a little girls adventure to and through Hell. Talks of God. In no way pokes fun of either, folks remember its fiction. If you like the workings of James Frey (famous for a million little peices) or Augusten Burroughs (famous for running with scissors) I think you would love this book! Some parts will gross you out while others will have you laughing hysterically. I personally recommend exploring all 3 of the mentioned authors not just the books that made them household names but all of them. I personally have read every book ever written by these guys. Again Chuck P has some amazing books but this is my favorite which is got 5 stars. Love you love you love you Chuck Palahniuk!
Top reviews from other countries
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Arturo Aceves SierraReviewed in Mexico on October 15, 2020
5.0 out of 5 stars Fenial
Grandioso
- ViatoraReviewed in the United Kingdom on August 9, 2017
5.0 out of 5 stars A very very funny book. The main character is now a 13 ...
A very very funny book. The main character is now a 13 year old fat girl and even though she died too quickly to become one of those characteristic Palahniuk antiheroes, it's not always clear how innocent she is. The author brilliantly parallels Hell with Earth and gives a hilarious but heartbreaking account of the idiocy of narcissistic "super-liberal" celebrities, their motives behind seemingly noble and progressive acts and how their version of parenting works out. Maddie is a very intelligent young girl and the story follows her and her new damned friends coping with being dead and in Hell and with finding the courage to improve themselves even after death. Maddie doesn't remember how she died, another thing which will be of interest during the story. I laughed a lot reading this book. It was a fresh perspective (from a 13 year old girl) within an old perspective (good ol' Chuck Palahniuk).
- G.M.OchoaReviewed in Australia on May 30, 2017
5.0 out of 5 stars He has done it again.
Chuck, a writer of the times. Once again he has succeeded in writing quality literature in a language befitting our times. He captures the cynicism and sarcasm that infiltrates us all. Damned is original, interesting, and all consuming.
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somonoReviewed in Italy on October 11, 2015
5.0 out of 5 stars Consigliato
Un inferno dantesco in perfetto stile Palahniuk, molto bello e molto divertente (anche se il successivo è un po' deludente)
- evaReviewed in Spain on October 13, 2014
5.0 out of 5 stars Great
Arrived in almost perfect conditions and the delivery was alright. Absolutely satisfied with the purchase, hope to buy some more.