Gillian Flynn

***SPOILERS HIDDEN***

The most noteworthy thing about Sharp Objects is that it’s as much an “issues book” as it is a mystery. This isn’t a conventional thriller-type of mystery with lots of action. No, a creepy mystery and an exploration of psychiatric disorder and addiction here share space to tell a unique tale.

Sharp Objects is told from the perspective of Camille Preaker, a Chicago police reporter who’s returned to her small hometown of Wind Gap to report on--investigate, really--the bizarre murders of two pre-teen girls. In a stereotypical depiction of small-town life, Gillian Flynn made it obvious why Camille fled this town years ago. Wind Gap is insular to a fault, stifling, and gossipy. The residents are phony, and few of them move away. They like it that way. These insufferable people are engrossing to read about, if one-dimensional.

What doesn’t work is the character of Camille. Though she’s a fascinating protagonist, she doesn’t make sense. She can hold down a demanding job as a Chicago reporter but is crippled by alcoholism and a serious psychiatric disorder. Also really problematic is a missing link between her dysfunction and the mystery itself. The idea is that her disturbed mother has scarred her for life, figuratively and literally, but this plot thread is too dominant to be left unconnected.

This debut by Flynn isn’t too ambitious but not so simple that it’s predictable. The book is dark; however, it isn’t dark because of gruesomeness. It’s dark because its intensity never abates and because very little about it isn’t unsettling. Many characters--main and secondary alike--are frightening, extremely weird, or have their own psychiatric issues. Somehow it all really works, and at an economical 252 pages, Flynn kept Sharp Objects to-the-point and cleanly organized. Best of all, it’s surprising right up to the end.… (more)

***NO SPOILERS***

“Domestic noir.” Gone Girl, is part of a whole new category of book. It really is the perfect descriptor for this twisty--and twisted--mystery-thriller. Gone Girl is breathtakingly good--for many reasons, not least of which because of a twist that’s not only unpredictable but because of its exquisitely perfect timing. To be sure, “unpredictable” is a descriptor that gets tossed around an awful lot whenever mysteries and thrillers are discussed. The difference is, Gone Girl is one that truly lives up to the label.

Gone Girl is as much a character study as an out-and-out thriller. The married couple at the center of the story, Nick and Amy, are as vivid as any real-life Nick and Amy. The narrative unfolds half in Amy’s voice and half in Nick's. This technique not only allows for a full portrait of both characters but draws out suspense very nicely--and Gone Girl is a highly suspenseful story. Particularly impressive is how manipulative Flynn is, asking her reader to feel a variety of ways toward her characters. It’s not often that feelings toward characters change so utterly.

The plot is very tightly organized--strikingly so--and punctuated with dozens of crucial not-so-little details. All the while, Flynn kept manipulating as often as possible. Most notably, in one pivotal moment, the story transforms from a mystery-thriller unfolding in a straightforward manner to an inverted mystery that turns everything on its head.

Flynn clearly dedicated a tremendous amount of time to Gone Girl, not just in the actual crafting, but in research; she presented a forceful depiction of psychopathy, and Gone Girl is chilling and eventually terrifying. In the finer details of psychopathy, however, she slipped up. Most readers may not care about (or probably be aware of) the oversights here, but since Flynn was so meticulous in other respects, it’s peculiar that she wasn’t in this area too.

The story’s conclusion will not please all. It may shock just as much as the various other twists and turns but in a way that will leave many with a very sour taste. Others will admire Flynn's courage in not only foregoing the bow but also the pretty wrapping paper. She chose an ending that rings truest to life and makes the most sense given the characters’ stunningly complex circumstances. This is an ending that whispers rather than shouts, but what a whisper it is. The last line is pitch perfect.

Final verdict: A must read, especially for fans of smart psychological thrillers and domestic noir.… (more)

***SPOILERS HIDDEN***

Gillian Flynn is a confident writer whose signature is creating vivid characters of questionable morals, and Dark Places is no exception. Here, those morals are very questionable. Devil-worship is a theme, though not overwhelmingly, and in the first sentence a main character says, “I have a meanness inside of me, real as an organ.”

The story centers on an impoverished family living on a farm in Kansas. These characters are crafted well enough, but deep, layered psychological development is lacking. There’s also no one to sympathize with or even really like. This isn’t a significant flaw, but it is a drawback in a story with this setting especially--a setting that works but doesn’t at the same time. Flynn depicted poverty well. This family’s hardship feels suffocating, from their isolation (physically and socially) to their general sorrow to their lack of money and food. It’s an atmospheric rural-ness, gloomy; in my mind’s eye, I saw a perpetually overcast, gray sky and barren fields. But it’s all just too grim, and given the inherent tragedy in the butchering of a mother and her little children, such overwhelming grimness is problematic.

Flynn doesn’t believe in subtlety. What I find most memorable about Dark Places is how she used such a heavy hand in describing the murders. The murder of the family is traumatizing. There’s only one scene of actual occult violence--involving a cow--but it’s exceedingly grisly, and I felt dread leading up to it. At the beginning of the book especially, she wrote flashes of gore porn in a seeming personal challenge to write the most repulsive descriptions she could.

As with [b:Sharp Objects|18045891|Sharp Objects|Gillian Flynn|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1475695315l/18045891._SY75_.jpg|3801], Dark Places’s big reveal comes at the end, a risk to a mystery’s pacing if the author isn’t careful, but Flynn knew what she was doing. She revealed just enough at exactly the right times and used time shifts to great effect, moving back and forth between 1985 and the present day.

As for the big reveal, it’s satisfyingly unpredictable, but this isn’t to say I was fully on board with it; that a mother so devoted to her children, a woman who’d had no suicidal ideation, would agree to be murdered is beyond ludicrous, no matter how desperate she may be. Flynn’s stories demand much suspension of disbelief, but Dark Places left me incredulous, and I was unable to suspend disbelief this time. However, the majority of the story is plausible--even the more niche part: the devil-worship. This occult angle is undeveloped and portrayed in such a general way that Flynn probably didn’t have to do much research into devil-worship, or none at all, but that’s fine. It’s necessary as a good red herring.

Dark Places is a solid, smart mystery, but when I think of it, its violence is what sticks in my mind. Unfortunately, although I’ve happily kept all of Flynn’s books on my shelf over the years, Dark Places feels only like bad energy and I’ve already donated it. Nevertheless, in the mystery genre, Flynn is queen. Her weakest book still is stronger than the strongest work of most authors in the genre.… (more)

Close to being one of my favorite reads of the year, but not quite...and mostly because of the vulgarity and gratuitous language that peppered the last half of the book. That aside, this was a brilliant take on the unreliable narrator. I mean, seriously...what happened to Amy? Did Nick kill her? Is he insane or just freaked out about her disappearance?

I won't say much more because the mystery is the best part of the novel. Be warned: this is not a feel-good book. I read a lot of Stephen King and Flynn made him look like Dr. Seuss by the end of the novel. This is about dysfunctional marriage. This is about psychopathy. This is about the dark places that humanity can go.

But read it anyway. Seriously.… (more)