I’m a long-time reader of Palahniuk’s work, and I’ve rarely found anything disappointing in his writing. Beautiful You, I’m happy to say, was no exception. As always, his unique literary voice and cadence shine through, while still managing to avoid seeming repetitive or tired.

This novel introduces us to Penny Harrigan, a woman whose life seems to be an unending series of disappointments, whether it’s her career or her love life. All of that changes when tech billionaire C. Linus Maxwell takes an interest in her. She’s as surprised as everyone else, as she lives out a Cinderella fantasy that most girls would only dream of. Unfortunately, the dream is quickly revealed to be more of a nightmare, as she begins to feel less like a romantic partner and more like a guinea pig. Maxwell is not the man the tabloids make him out to be, perhaps because he secretly owns them.

As this intensely sexual tryst continues, Penny silently watches the clock ticking down to the inevitable conclusion that awaits all of Maxwell’s romantic partners. And when that end arrives, it’s as jarring and disorienting as the beginning was.

It’s soon revealed that Maxwell has his eyes set on an objective with global repercussions, and Penny has been ignorantly complicit in the horrors that await the women of the world. By the time she realizes what’s going on, is it too late to get anyone to hear her?

As she struggles to put a stop to the plan already in motion, she’s hammered with revelations that force her to question her life, her identity, and the extreme limits of human sexuality.

As sexually explicit as Beautiful You happens to be, there’s nothing remotely erotic about it. That’s the magic of Palahniuk’s writing. He was able to approach a topic so steeped in sexual content without making it feel smutty or even remotely sexy. He takes us right to the verge and then turns away…like literary edging. There’s a perversity in the clinical detachment of it all, and the sense of impending awfulness that the reader or listener is impossible to dismiss. In a sense, it makes us feel superior to the characters, because we see the trap that awaits and convince ourselves we could escape it. It forces you to wonder if we’d succumb to the same terrible outcome if this sequence of events played out in the real world.

The moral of the story, I suppose, is that men need to focus more on the pleasure their partners are experiencing…otherwise, the Beautiful You line of products might just take our place.

Carol Monda’s narration definitely captures the initially neurotic and out-of-her-depth qualities of Penny’s character as well as who she becomes as the events of the story transform her.