Book Review: Fight Club 2 by Chuck Palahniuk

I have mixed feelings on Fight Club 2. What I loved was Palahniuk’s insertion of himself into the graphic novel… that’s great and it was funny. I loved that he had a bunch of fan’s show up to his graphic novel house and he asks if they’re looking for Neil Gaiman. What I hated … was everything else.

Palahniuk created this wonderful thing that my generation adopted and adored to the point of idol worship. I’ve read Fight Club multiple times, I’ve seen Fight Club more times than I can count. My website is named after Fight Club.

It’s not even that he fucked with Jack/Sebastian. It’s not that he fucked with the idea of Tyler. It’s that he put Marla Singer in a fucking pantsuit with a suburban life and a child. I’m sure dudes hold Jack in higher esteem, being upset that he became a cube-dweller, but I don’t find that shocking. It’s possible to me that Jack had this crazy experience and then went back to sleep. However, it’s out of my realm of understanding to accept that Marla Fucking Singer has a perfect house, with a son, and a babysitter, and a cell phone??


No, nope. I’m going to pretend this was a fever dream and that Fight Club 2 never happened.