this. She didn't quite turn Louis into a liar or a fool, but almost. And she turned Lestat into an incurable optimist, someone with an unquenchable lust for life (in every sense), someone utterly immune to the kind of existential despair that Louis was created to express. In short, she contradicts everything that we learn through Louis, and by couching in a very different, but just as fully-realized, point of view, she makes us buy it.
Or almost - I confess I had a harder time connecting the dots between the various stages of Lestat's mental adjustment to vampirism than I did with Louis's. Or maybe it's just that she doesn't try quite as hard with this one. After all, not all of the novel is given over to exploring and explaining Lestat's point of view; in fact, his is established pretty early and never really varied. Vast stretches of the book are given over to elucidating other points of view - Armand's and Marius's. She's building a universe here, a fertile ground for sequels, rather than a character.
It took me a long time to get through this. It lost intensity for me pretty quickly, and after it became clear that it wasn't really going to take on Lestat's affair with Louis in any sustained fashion, it lost a lot of interest for me as well. I'm not hooked.
I'll confess, though, that it was hard for me to get through also because it was so dark. I mean, what did I expect from a vampire book, right? But when we got to Marius's tale about the ancientest of vampires, and we learn that all of mankind's old gods were bloodsuckers, and that vampirism itself is some kind of schizoid demonic possession... Darkness, darkness. I think I found my threshold for it. I'm only a little ashamed to admit it.