“Was it my idea to have him hurt me, or did he just let me think it was?”
Eliza Clark’s Boy Parts is not a book for the faint of heart. Darkly comic, unapologetically transgressive, and razor-sharp in its social commentary, it plunges readers into the chaotic mind of Irina, a photographer whose predatory gaze turns the traditional gender power dynamic on its head. Equal parts psychological thriller and pitch-black satire, the novel confronts issues of power, identity, and morality with an unflinching honesty that is as provocative as it is compelling.
From the very get-go, Clark challenges readers to grapple with their discomfort, forcing us to question not only the ethics of her characters but our own responses to them. Boy Parts is a story that lingers long after the final page, leaving a mix of fascination, revulsion, and reluctant admiration in its wake. But, how good is this viral bestseller really? Join us at What We Reading for our Boy Parts book review to find out!
Date Published: 2020
Author: Eliza Clark
Genre: Horror, Literary Fiction
Pages: 304
Goodreads Rating: 3.72/5
Boy Parts Summary
Irina obsessively takes explicit photographs of the average-looking men she persuades to model for her, scouted from the streets of Newcastle. Placed on sabbatical from her dead-end bar job, she is offered an exhibition at a fashionable London gallery, promising to revive her career in the art world and offering an escape route from her rut of drugs, alcohol and extreme cinema.
The news triggers a self-destructive tailspin, centred around Irina’s obsessive best friend, and a shy young man from her local supermarket who has attracted her attention. Boy Parts is an incendiary debut novel from Eliza Clark, a pitch-black comedy both shocking and hilarious, fearlessly exploring the taboo regions of sexuality and gender roles in the modern age.
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What Worked
Boy Parts is a book that thrives on its sharp social commentary, anchored by one of the most compellingly unlikeable narrators in recent fiction. Eliza Clark’s subversion of traditional gender and power dynamics is provocative without feeling hollow, using dark, unflinching humour that bites precisely because it feels so timely.
Through Irina’s position as a photographer who exploits and objectifies men, Clark forces us readers to confront an uncomfortable truth: her behaviour feels more shocking largely because she is a woman.
The novel doesn’t excuse Irina’s predatory and manipulative tendencies, but instead exposes how power – not gender – is the real corrupting force at play. It’s an unsettling reversal that really lingered with us.
Irina herself is a brilliant, charismatic voice to follow. Totally unreliable, fuelled by narcissism, sharp wit, and psychological instability, she extends her cruelty not only to the men she snaps, but even to those closest to her.
While the “unhinged woman” has become a familiar fixture in transgressive fiction and the wider “women’s wrongs” trend, Irina sticks out as one of the genre’s most compelling – and disturbingly likeable – entries.
Beyond its core examination of gender and power, Boy Parts is also a book that delivers biting commentary on the art world, identity in the digital age, and even class divides between the north and south of England. These secondary themes deepen the novel’s sense of modern chaos, making it feel especially resonant for younger readers navigating the same cultural contradictions.
Finally, Clark’s genre-blending approach takes the novel even higher. Part psychological thriller, part pitch-black comedy, Boy Parts balances violence, substance abuse, and moral decay with razor-sharp humour. In doing so, it’s natural to compare it to the likes of American Psycho and My Year of Rest and Relaxation – another compelling novel of transgressive, deeply uncomfortable introspection.
What Didn’t
First things first, Boy Parts is a book that contains a lot of disturbing and potentially disturbing content, which will inevitably make it a divisive read. While this material is clearly integral to the story Clark is telling, it also means the novel won’t land for every reader – and that friction could be a dealbreaker for some.
The same is true for Irina herself. She is utterly repulsive, cruel, and deeply unsettling throughout. Although this is exactly what makes her such an effective vehicle for the book’s primary themes, it also makes her a protagonist that many readers will struggle to spend time with. The novel demands a high tolerance for discomfort, both in its subject matter and its perspective.
There wasn’t so much anything that didn’t work about Boy Parts, but rather a number of things we felt could have been expanded upon, or that were alluded to but never fully realised.
There are sprinklings that Irina may not be as conventionally attractive as she claims, an idea that could have meaningfully complicated her power and self-mythologising, but which never really materialises into something substantial.
Similarly, Irina’s repeated recklessness – bringing potentially dangerous men back to her home alone – feels like it should carry heavier consequences. Yet she emerges from these situations largely unscathed, with little lasting fallout. You could read this as a deliberate comment on luck and privilege; it left some of the novel’s most chilling moments feeling oddly weightless.
We also have the final photography exhibition also hinted at something more dramatic than it ultimately delivered.
The ambiguous ending works well enough, but we found ourselves craving a more metaphorical conclusion – one that forced Irina to confront her narcissism and reflect on how much of her “success” stems not from her own artistic brilliance, but from exceptional luck and her willingness to commodify herself for a particular kind of voyeur.
Wrap Up
At first glance, Boy Parts might appear to be hopping onto the “unlikeable female protagonist” trend – but that would be doing it a serious disservice in our opinion.
What sets it apart is how utterly immersive Irina’s dizzying, deranged psychological unravelling is; by the end, the novel’s highly satirical and sexually explicit tone is so saturated that even the most shocking confessions begin to numb us readers. Like the men she manipulates, we become blind vessels, unable to fully see her for what she truly is.
Boy Parts is a thought-provoking, timely, and unflinching exploration of gender, power, and art, fearlessly voyaging into taboo territory. Comparing Boy Parts to books like American Psycho is inevitable, but Clark’s is well worth its own merits: a scathing, darkly comedic, and intensely readable social satire.
Through Irina’s totally unreliable narration and her bloated sense of self-worth, the book examines identity, manipulation, and the corrupting influence of power, making it a standout in the emerging genre of transgressive fiction.
Our Rating: 5/5
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Part-time reader, part-time rambler, and full-time Horror enthusiast, James has been writing for What We Reading since 2022. His earliest reading memories involved Historical Fiction, Fantasy and Horror tales, which he has continued to take with him to this day. James’ favourite books include The Last (Hanna Jameson), The Troop (Nick Cutter) and Chasing The Boogeyman (Richard Chizmar).
