The straightforward, clinical language paradoxically brings the violence to the surface, but our senses are dulled to such a point that we're immune to the shock that Gloria's abhorrent behavior should produce. He says his narrator's monotone voice results from her sense of ennui, a modern malady. Even the flicker of an incestuous relationship doesn't propel the narrative to achieve a more accelerated pace. Nonetheless, Keats asserts that Gloria's transgressions are revealing. It's at this point that a character is forced to define itself.
Extremities cause people to react, and that's when change happens.
Keats' philosophy operates on a strictly primitive, Darwinian level in the book. Gloria instinctively bulldozes forward, driven by ambition and competition. She acts solely to survive, never once pausing for self-examination. Interestingly, Crime and Punishment appears as a major influence on the author and his protagonist, but it's clear that Gloria has barely thumbed through her own copy, and the book's moral lesson has failed to make an imprint on her conscience. If Dostoyevsky asks whether we suffer the consequences of immoral actions, then Keats' response is bluntly negative.