I didn't really care about the whole drama surrounding JT Leroy when I read this, about whether he really existed or was a made up character (which it now turns out "he" was) in turn writing works of fiction based on a life which is also a work of fiction... I still don't care that JT didn't actually exist - it doesn't take away from the writing or the story in my eyes. Perhaps it displays even more storytelling talent on the author's part?

I found "The Heart..." to be more realistic than "Sarah" was, there was no away-with-the-fairies stuff, apart from incidents which you are made aware are the delusions of the characters rather than something the reader has to suspend belief in. I liked the way it kind of jumped about in places, and you had to keep reading for it all to make sense. I do enjoy stories like that, which reward you for reading on and putting some thought into the words as you take them in. And again, as in "Sarah", its written perfectly from the point-of-view of the child narrator, with wonderful child-like interpretations of the adult world, especially the crystal meth part. Its a dark and dirty book too, one that makes you feel unease and real emotion as you read it. LeRoy has a voice that weaves intriguing stories, but stories which still leave room for your own diagnosis. ( )

"I was not impressed with this book. The narrative is distracting, the author focuses more on shocking the reader than developing the story or characters, and the scenarios are so outlandish that it is hard to stay interested.

I picked up this book after watching the movie, and this is one of few instances that I would actually recommend the movie over the book." ( )

I would love to give a review of this book. How truly intense, emotional, hard (for lack of a better word), tear-jerking, and at times stoic.

However, the title of the book itself seems a bit too ironic. {[SPOILER ALERT]}

As a practice, I avoid reading large amounts of reviews on books (amazon can usually convince me to read more than I would like). The back cover, the title, the book cover (art). These are a few of my favorite things, to judge a book…

Therefore, this book really intrigued me (and it didn’t help that I put it into my librarything and was told I would probably like it a lot).

This book is very interestingly written. The narrator is in young adolescent stages and we follow him (who sometimes wants to be a her) and he develops. This book gives, what I truly believe, an account of what it would be like to be beaten, abused, or sexually molested within a societal context that tells me…This is the norm…This is what happens….and (worst of all) this is what is good.

If you can handle the graphic sexual encounters, and are into Palahniuk-esque writing. It is a manageable read.

As I told a friend of mine, this is the first, and maybe the last, of the books that I would not allow my children to read until they were of a certain age…or, more importantly…of a certain mental and emotional capacity.

NC-17 scoffers aside. This shit is real (or so it seems). The book reads as a memoir, but is actually entirely fictional. I finished the book a month ago and was unaware of the truth of this until today. It doesn’t help that I am reading this book and it is actual the sequel to another book…which makes it seem even more like a real, true, non-fictional memoir.

What is truly telling about the book, is that it is written in stream of consciousness. It draws you in, and doesn’t let you go. The novel is fiction and does not claim to be anything else, so to that extent I guess my being aggravated about the authorship is a little unnecessary. The sheer intensity and graphic detail almost make you want to believe it is true.

I gave it 3-stars…maybe that was too few….maybe that was too many. Overall, it is definitely something you only read if you can handle it. I don’t think it will make your life better or worse to trudge, suffer, and struggle through. ( )

i understand the lackluster reviews on this book, though i don't agree with the average score of 2.25 on Amazon. sure, it's oft-unbelievable, as well as over-the-top in trying to initiate our gag reflexes. also, it's pretty much been done before (had this been published in the mid-90s, amidst the hip, sexually-charged film noir of that time period, it would've been ground-breaking). still, i enjoyed the unflinching attention to the sexual abuse that occurs between members of the same gender; we're intentionally left wondering if this contributed to, or caused, the protagonist's masochistic homosexuality. it made me, a heterosexual, remember that "typical" abuse, that of one gender by its opposite, is anything but exclusive.

if you love dark, disturbing, gritty horror dealing with human monsters, you'll dig this book. while it's not essential reading, it's a disgusting ride -- impossible to look away. just don't roll your eyes too hard when you realize that "JT Leroy" is attempting to make us believe this happened to "him" -- they might stick that way. ( )

Heart-wrenching, until one comes to the realization that it is entirely fictional. JT LeRoy doesn't exist; he's the invention of Laura Albert. Since the majority of this book's power comes from the perception that it is true (without that, I'm left wondering at the sick imagination of the author), I'd have to encourage my friends to skip it. ( )