Tag Archives: Gillian Flynn

You go, Girl on the Train

trainOM Serious G.  I just finished The Girl on the Train, and I am pretty amazed  with what author Paula Hawkins has accomplished.  The girl on the train is Rachel.  She’s a sad, pathetic woman – childless, divorced, jobless, and drunken much of the time, barely hanging on.  Her own life is so bleak that every day, as she passes through the neighborhood where she used to live, she looks out the window of the train and spies on a young couple that she calls Jess and Jason.  She sees how beautiful, how happy they are, living just a few doors down from where Tom – Rachel’s ex-husband – and his new wife, Anna, live with their baby.  They are also happy, and Anna is living the life that Rachel should have had with Tom.

Only it’s not that simple.  Jason and Jess are really Scott and Megan, and Megan is pretty messed up, with some serious backstory going on.  And Anna is not just a doting young mother.  In fact, almost everybody in this novel is complicated.  The book is told in first person, shifting from Rachel’s perspective to Anna’s to Megan’s.  Little by little we learn more about the women, their pasts and their tragic present, tied together in a way you won’t foresee.

Here’s the scoop:  Megan disappears one night.  Suspicion falls on her husband, of course.  What can Rachel do besides find a way to tell the police what she saw through the train window: Megan kissing another man.  Of course, Rachel is an unreliable witness.  In fact, she’s unreliable even to herself.  She’s haunted by the idea that she knows more than she can recall.  Her memory of the night that Megan disappeared is fragmented and incomplete, but when Megan’s body is found, Rachel becomes convinced that the truth is buried deep in her brain.  She pulls herself together, stays sober (mostly) and begins to investigate. Ineptly, of course, but that just adds to the suspense.  By the time she gets it figured out, the reader is right there with her, trying to stay alive.

The Girl on the Train is sure to elicit comparisons to Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girlas they both have unreliable narrators, intricate plots, and OMG endings.  And while I raved about Gone Girl, I have to say that Train has an edge from my perspective:  characters that are worth caring about.  You really root for Rachel.  With GG, it was hard to find anybody to root for.

Reviewers have been raving about the book, for good reason.  As with Gone Girl, I foresee a movie in the making.

Uh-oh. Gods of Gotham in cage match with Gone Girl

gothamGone Girl‘s had a pretty easy run of it so far.  The #2 book in the ranking, Al Lamada’s Sunset, is a fun ride and a classic type, but not a classic.  Now comes Lyndsay Faye’s The Gods of Gotham, featuring NYC “copper star” Timothy Wilde.  I’m not usually a big fan of historical novels, but this big-hearted story has all the urban urgency of 2013, including class warfare, racism, religious intolerance, graft and politics.  Add in personal tragedy, fraternal discord, unrequited love, and still manage to have an uplifting, positive outcome… wow.

Never someone who did well in the “brown pie” section of Trivial Pursuit, it doesn’t take much to convince me that Faye’s vision of mid-1800s New York City is accurate.  Timothy Wilde is a barkeep, with $400 in silver saved up with an eye toward marrying his beloved Mercy Underhill, when fire destroys his home, his livelihood, and his face.  Reeling, he’s pressed into service in the new NYC police department by his brother, Valentine, who’s well-connected and active in city politics.  With the large numbers of Irish emigrating to New York at the time, the police department’s job is more to keep the peace than to solve crimes, but Tim turns out to be a “dab hand” at detecting.  He’s the kind of guy that people talk to.

The crime he’s solving: at first, it’s the horrific murder of one kinchen-mab (child prostitute).  But with the discovery of a hidden graveyard, the number climbs to 19.  Who is the shadowy figure who visits this house of ill-repute and bears away the bodies of murdered children, tearing their chest cavities into a the shape of a ragged cross and removing various organs?  Is he the same person who is sending letters on the topic to the police and the newspapers?  Anti-Catholic sentiment is accelerating, and the racism and barely suppressed violence of 1845 NYC feels remarkably timely.

The stakes are high, for the NYPD’s days will be numbered if the politics tip against them.  It’s up to Tim and a few trustworthy others to solve it quickly and out of the limelight.  And solve it he does, in a most surprising and satisfying fashion.

So what’s my call on the Edgars?  It’s a tough one.  Gone Girl and the Gods of Gotham are completely different in almost every aspect.  For suspense, I’d have to give it to Gone Girl.  For plot resolution, it’s a toss-up: you’ll like the ending of Gotham, but Gone Girl is satisfying in its own, frustrating way.  For singular and well-developed characters, toss-up again.  For enjoyment, it’s Gotham… just because I don’t like being jerked around, even if it’s good for me.  So I’m just going to bite the bullet and say Gone Girl.  Gotham‘s fabulous, but Gone Girl‘s completely new.

MWA Edgar for Best Novel rankings:

  1. Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn
  2. The Gods of Gotham by Lyndsay Faye
  3. Sunset by Al Lamanda
  4. The Lost Ones by Ace Atkins
  5. Potboiler by Jesse Kellerman
  6. All I Did Was Shoot My Man by Walter Mosley

Gone Girl rockets to top of list

gone-girl-book-cover-medI read Gone Girl before the hype, and I want full credit for the discovery!   Amazingly, I did not review it at the time.  (I don’t always review everything I read, mostly due to time constraints.)  So, no proof.  Sigh.  Reading Gillian Flynn’s twisty novel of suspense was perhaps even more enjoyable the second time around.  It was a bit like seeing The Sixth Sense for the second time – you don’t get the shock (What?  You mean Bruce Willis has been dead all along?) but you do get the fun of seeing how well the movie is put together.  And Ms. Flynn has done a bang-up job putting Gone Girl together.

Here’s the premise:  Nick Dunne and his wife Amy are madly in love.  They’re happy with their bookish life in Manhattan, but tragedy strikes in the form of job loss for the couple and a fatal illness for Nick’s mom, so they head back home to Missouri, where Amy invests the last of her trust fund in a bar for Nick and his twin, Margo, to run.  Then Amy disappears on their fifth wedding anniversary, and all indicators point to a kidnapping.  Or do they?   The reader begins to suspect that Nick has killed his wife.   And so do the cops.  Even faithful sister Margo has her moment of suspicion.  But no!  Nick’s a self-centered jerk, no doubt about it, but not a killer.  So what’s up?

Spoiler alert.

For those who have somehow not heard the secret to Gone Girl, Amy’s not dead.  In fact, she’s a conniving psychopath.  She knows Nick is having an affair, and she wants to punish him.  Her plan: to set Nick up for “murdering” her, even going so far as to kill herself in a way that makes determining the time of death difficult, so that the discovery of her body removes all reasonable doubt.   Not surprisingly, the suicide plan falls by the wayside.  And, as she intends, Nick realizes he’s been set up.  He feels the jaws of the trap.  But knowing her as well as he does, he is able to  manipulate her into coming home.  All is well!  Not.  For just as he looks forward to leaving the marriage, Amy schemes to tie him to her even more tightly.  How?  A baby.

Needless to say, the plot is killer and the characters are extremely compelling, including sister Margo, Amy’s parents, whacky hottie/paramour Andie, and especially Nick’s crafty lawyer.  In the final pages, you shudder for Nick and Amy’s unborn baby.  Gone Girl has taken the lead in the race for the MWA Edgar for Best Novel.  Also, I’m totally going to see this movie.

MWA Edgar for Best Novel rankings:

  1. Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn
  2. Sunset by Al Lamanda
  3. The Lost Ones by Ace Atkins
  4. Potboiler by Jesse Kellerman