Archive

Mystery

22557272Title: The Girl on the Train
Author: Paula Hawkins
Pages: 325
Year: 2015
Publisher: Riverhead Books (Penguin)
Time taken to read: 8 days
Rating: 2/5

Goodreads synopsis: Rachel takes the same commuter train every morning. Every day she rattles down the track, flashes past a stretch of cozy suburban homes, and stops at the signal that allows her to daily watch the same couple breakfasting on their deck. She’s even started to feel like she knows them. “Jess and Jason,” she calls them. Their life—as she sees it—is perfect. Not unlike the life she recently lost. And then she sees something shocking. It’s only a minute until the train moves on, but it’s enough. Now everything’s changed. Unable to keep it to herself, Rachel offers what she knows to the police, and becomes inextricably entwined in what happens next, as well as in the lives of everyone involved. Has she done more harm than good?

Fun fact: my dad is old. Actually, he’s not that old. He’s still in his early fifties I believe, but he acts like he’s really old, and not on purpose. For instance, when he reads a book, he likes to ask me if I’ve read it, which I usually haven’t, and then he explains the plot. The next time I see him, he’ll explain the plot of the same book. And the next time, he’ll do it again, and so on and so forth. Normally I just let him go on, rather than interrupting him and reminding him of his oldness. The Girl on the Train is one of those books that he told me about multiple times, so I figured I should read it so that the next time he asks me about it, we can actually discuss it.

I’m getting a little tired of mentioning the fact that I hate when books switch perspectives. It actually wasn’t so bad at the beginning, but once I got to the part where it was going back and forth between Rachel and Anna in a scene where they were talking to each other, I started to get confused and annoyed. The worst thing about the writing, though, was the comma splices. First of all, I hate comma splices. They’re like semicolons but even worse. (I hate semicolons.) Second of all, I can stand comma splices when they sort of make sense, like if you actually wouldn’t pause all that much if you were saying the sentences out loud, but they made no sense here. I don’t have the book on me anymore so I can’t give an example, but the author would use comma splices where I would have come to a full stop in even the most colloquial of contexts, and I don’t understand.

As for the actual story, I just wasn’t terribly impressed. I didn’t like any of the characters much at all. I think I liked Anna the most, and she was a real bitch. Everyone in this book seemed rather pathetic, and some were straight-up evil on top of that. The big reveal of who did it was rather boring, and I find it hard to believe that that person would have sat there and admitted it all in the straightforward, story-telling way that they did. In fact, a lot of the author’s dialogue sounded wrong, like it was too poetic to be said out loud. I kept thinking, no one would ever talk like that. I almost gave it three stars because I thought it was interesting enough in the middle, it just didn’t deliver at the end, but then I started to think about how it wasn’t actually all that interesting. Rachel just said the same sh*t over and over about how she couldn’t remember anything, and she wants a drink but she shouldn’t but she’s going to anyway. And the lack of independent women in the book really pisses me off. Every girl was attached to a guy, and everything about them was based off their relationships with those guys, which is honestly pathetic. Zero feminism points.

A lot of people on Goodreads are saying this book is better than Gone Girl, and I want to physically fight those people because Gone Girl is amazing and The Girl on the Train is mediocre at best.

12837725Title: Gone Girl
Author: Gillian Flynn
Pages: 419
Year: 2012
Publisher: Crown Publishers
Time taken to read: 4 days
Rating: 5/5

Goodreads synopsisOn a warm summer morning in North Carthage, Missouri, it is Nick and Amy Dunne’s fifth wedding anniversary. Presents are being wrapped and reservations are being made when Nick’s clever and beautiful wife disappears from their rented McMansion on the Mississippi River. Husband-of-the-Year Nick isn’t doing himself any favors with cringe-worthy daydreams about the slope and shape of his wife’s head, but passages from Amy’s diary reveal the alpha-girl perfectionist could have put anyone dangerously on edge. Under mounting pressure from the police and the media–as well as Amy’s fiercely doting parents–the town golden boy parades an endless series of lies, deceits, and inappropriate behavior. Nick is oddly evasive, and he’s definitely bitter–but is he really a killer? As the cops close in, every couple in town is soon wondering how well they know the one that they love. With his twin sister, Margo, at his side, Nick stands by his innocence. Trouble is, if Nick didn’t do it, where is that beautiful wife? And what was in that silvery gift box hidden in the back of her bedroom closet?

I went into Gone Girl knowing absolutely nothing about it other than the fact that it’s about a girl who goes missing and it was recently made into a movie that everyone was raving about. My first impression of this book was less than great because I absolutely hate books that switch perspectives, but once I realized that Amy’s perspective was all diary entries (until later on), it didn’t bother me. Nick and Amy were both kind of annoying in the beginning. I guess I was put off by how much Nick talked about how it’s impossible to really be a writer anymore (which is what I want to do with my life, sad face). And I was annoyed with Amy for saying some pretty anti-feminist things, like how she’s “just being a girl” in a very negative context. (Although, as you will learn, that Amy isn’t really, well, Amy. So I can forgive that.) But by the end of the book, I found myself thinking that Amy might be one of my favorite literary characters ever. I mean, she’s a genius. A mentally ill genius. (I was trying to diagnose her as I read, and I felt like borderline personality disorder (my own disorder) might fit, but that definitely didn’t cover everything. I looked it up after finishing the book and found this interesting article where a psychiatrist suggests BPD and antisocial personality disorder.) I still hated Nick by the end, but I was enjoying hating him, if that makes any sense. One of those love-to-hate characters, I suppose.

For some reason I didn’t expect to like this book, but I found myself staying up late into the night to keep reading. The details really made it so amazing. I was so into the mystery, trying to figure out if Nick was really responsible, trying to guess who else could have done it, playing detective as I went along. This is the type of book that really engages you, so that you feel like you’re a part of the story. And it made me feel so much. I was almost in tears when Amy lost all her money. I was practically sick to my stomach because I was rooting for her so hard. Which surprised me, because I don’t like spoiled rich kids, but I wanted her to be victorious in whatever her goal was. I guess that’s just good writing.

I am definitely going to be seeing this movie and reading the rest of Flynn’s books, since this was so phenomenal.