At first you think: That’s a nice conceit. “They had made a movie about us,” Bret Easton Ellis’s new book begins, and of course, they did, allowing us at least an early glimpse of the genius of Robert Downey Jr. The movie, it should go without saying, is the film version of “Less Than Zero,” Ellis’s headline-grabbing 1985 debut. Neither the book nor the movie is named, but titles aren’t necessary, for here are the old familiar names: Blair, Julian, Trent — and Clay, the narrator of that novel and this one, “Imperial Bedrooms,” which takes up their stories a quarter of a century on. So there’s a neat, postmodern, self-referential beginning, with Clay, the cool observer of his own actions and feelings — or lack of them — observing himself being observed, an acknowledgment that his version of the story may be only one of many.
So what happened to all these people? Fair enough for their maker to be curious as to their fates. You could make a cynical argument that sequels are written for the most venal of reasons, to continue a franchise or revive interest in a flagging brand, and that’s no doubt true if you’re talking about, say, “Star Wars.” But when authors create memorable characters it’s usually because they can’t help themselves. Imaginary people become lodged in the creator’s consciousness; it can be hard to get them to leave…
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