Retro Review: Sharp Objects

When I started this blog, I had been posting reviews on Goodreads for about 6 months. In the interest of having all of my book writing in one place, I will post one of these old reviews every Friday. They weren't written with a blog in mind, so please forgive the lack of summary and off-the-cuff tone.

5 stars. Here's a summary, for those of you who somehow haven't encountered one yet: Camille Preaker, fresh out of a mental institution, reluctantly returns to her hometown on a work assignment. Wind Gap, Missouri is reeling from the murders of two young girls, and Camille is told to write a story on the deaths for her small Chicago newspaper. Unfortunately, she has a horrible past and a horrible relationship with her family (specifically, her mother). Still grieving the death of her sister from years ago, Camille tries to gather the facts for her story while unintentionally unearthing the darkness from her childhood.

I loved Sharp Objects, but warning: this is not a feel-good book. I know it's cliche to say, but Gillian Flynn is a super gutsy writer and that comes through significantly in this narrative. She features characters that hate themselves and hate everyone around them (and somehow don't feel like antagonists - they feel very human). Camille, in this novel, is incredibly superficial and harshly critical of others - she zeroes in on every potentially unflattering characteristic of those she encounters and highlights them in grossly detailed ways.

This is also a bit of a Gillian Flynn trademark. The gross details. I remember her describing vomited spaghetti in Dark Places - the words she used left quite an impression (warning: there is a lot of vomit in Sharp Objects, too). Then again, seeing vomited spaghetti would likely leave an impression if I had seen it with my own eyes.

So maybe that's one of her strengths - her ability to realistically describe what we pay attention to. When someone at the table gets spinach in their teeth, it's all anyone can think about. Basically, Gillian Flynn has a knack for pointing it out. And describing it in the most disgusting way possible. And somehow making the spinach-wearer seem hateful even though the spinach-wearer isn't technically at fault. I just love her grotesque style.

I also loved the story. I figured out what was going on almost immediately, but that didn't take away from the experience at all. I found myself reading and rushing and reading and rushing because I wanted confirmation so badly.

Look, this book is disturbing. It is dark, especially in its depiction of women as villains and as victims. I may return to expand on how upon reading Sharp Objects,I felt as though a piece clicked into place in the puzzle of what it means to be a woman. But for now, I'll just say that I loved every word. A home run.

Sharp Objects on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Give Me Your Hand

4.5 stars. Wowza. Even just the title - Give Me Your Hand - can mean so many things. It can mean “let me help you” or “I support you” or “trust me” … but it’s a demand, not a request, and if you trust the wrong person, you’re doomed. And it’s especially compelling considering the astounding amount of gender discrimination by women among women, which shouldn’t still be news, but yes, women are capable of severe targeted destruction in competitive environments. How can we trust our friends, when they are often our enemies?

Megan Abbott attempts to unpack this and more in her latest nasty masterpiece. Our protagonist, Dr. Kit Owens, is shocked when her ex-best friend, Diane, appears in her prestigious research lab. Working with her - alongside her - is unthinkable, considering Kit knows Diane’s secret, a secret that begins to resurface with shocking and violent consequences. Can they put the past behind them? Move forward for the sake of science? Ambition collides with fear and regret as the two women fight, almost literally, to the death.

I would like to point out that every woman in this story is layered and interesting. Not a single one of them is formulaic or bland, and they exist to take action with agency. I’m used to seeing female characters serve their male counterparts, helping them move toward center stage, and here it’s the other way around. Abbott has turned something - a convention, a habit, an expectation - on its head, and I am here for it. Also refreshing: questionable decision-making aside, Kit tangibly, and successfully, fights her insecurities.

Speaking of questionable decision-making, I love that deep within this book’s most intense moral quandary, a woman chooses her career over the “right thing to do.” I mean, I don’t recommend her choice, her judgment is unethical at best and illegal at worst. But there’s a part of me who, perhaps in light of recent events, reacted with a fuck yeah girl, I get it, it’s the only way. It’s the only way to get anywhere, to survive, to get what you want. I rooted for her. Which makes you wonder: are we dangerous? Are we as dangerous as men claim, or fear? I think we can be. Maybe that’s the point.

So many questions. Good questions.

Logistically, Give Me Your Hand is a slim and satisfying page-turner with several enjoyable twists. There’s a hint of noir, a boldness of flavor, and a Hitchcockian aftertaste. I docked a star for melodrama but Abbott’s writing is gorgeous and profound and her ability to stoke a campfire of tension inspires. I know I keep coming back to her women, but her women. Her complex, driven, terrifying, sexual, arrogant, fierce, incredible, misguided women. They are addicting. They are cold and wonderful and broken and they are fighters. They fight to show their potential - friendly or otherwise.

Give Me Your Hand on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: You

5 stars. WOW. Blown away. What a brilliant, relevant book. Recommended reading for millennials, especially. Caroline Kepnes is a new-to-me voice, and her voice cuts deep. Nothing and no one is safe from this one. I feel like I need a shower, or a hot meal, or a stiff drink.

You is written in the second person. The voice belongs to Joe, a young bookseller who develops an obsession with a young writer, Beck. Yes, “Beck.” He searches for her, finds her, stalks her, courts her, steals from her, kills for her. And we witness it all through his eyes.

There’s nothing new about a sympathetic bad guy - an antihero - or an unreliable narrator. These concepts are widely used and widely enjoyed. I think many readers will find ways to root for Joe and sorta maybe hope he’ll win, in the end. And Joe is funny, smart, fucking charming.

But there are no winners here. That’s abundantly clear from the second Joe implies a pattern to his obsessions - that he has fixated on a woman before, and that it ended badly. The sense of dread only grows as Joe circles his prey. It’s not pretty.

And look, just because he’s not trustworthy doesn’t make him wrong, all of the time. If we choose to believe that Beck truly behaved the way she did, shit, she’s horrible! She didn’t deserve what she got, but wow, everyone in this book is fucked up.

That feels real, to me. Compelling and different. Different, hot. Atypical. And almost comforting. Like we’re all ridiculously awful and we like awful things and it’s all about avoiding the people who are somehow worse.

Existential crisis aside, You was an incredibly enjoyable read and Joe’s voice will stay with me for a long time. Forever, maybe. I loved his ups and his downs and his outrageous outlook. Kepnes captured entitled masculinity perfectly, and it’s disgusting. But he does feel correct, a lot of the time. Hmph.

Further reading: Notes on a Scandal. Maestra.

You on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Force of Nature (Aaron Falk #2)

4 stars. I really, really enjoyed The Dry and COULD NOT WAIT for Force of Nature - and, thank goodness, I wasn't disappointed. Jane Harper has once again achieved a short, sharp mystery with a capable, well-intentioned hero.

Several months after the events of The Dry, Federal Police Agent Aaron Falk is forced to investigate the disappearance of a source in an isolated forest. His source - a CFO with a  mean streak - walked in with four companions on a corporate retreat, and didn't walk out. The story alternates his present-day investigation with flashbacks to the "retreat" and slowly, excruciatingly, the truth is revealed.

Upon finishing The Dry, I felt like I had just read a completely classic thriller - with all the would-be tropes, cliffhangers, shady characters and twists and turns to be expected - except IT WAS REALLY GOOD. The writing was REALLY GOOD. And I feel the same way about Force of Nature. The writing is again atmospheric and fantastic. The mystery is compelling and concise. And the setting - with the paranoia and fear of getting lost in the woods - is borderline terrifying.

If I had one complaint it would be that this one didn't feel as sinister as the first. The outcome just felt unfortunate, rather than gritty-dark. But that's just a preference and everything made sense/felt right.

Aaron Falk, my boo, my favorite somewhat-damaged detective. You are so good, so reliably good. I will follow you anywhere. Can't wait for book number three.

Force of Nature on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: The Woman in the Window

4 stars. I'm so excited about this! I went in with low expectations and got something truly excellent! Congratulations to A.J. Finn for a spectacular, thrilling debut.

Anna, an alcoholic, agoraphobic ex-child psychiatrist, sees something horrific occur in her next door neighbor's house. Thanks to her less-than-healthy habits and a severe case of post-traumatic stress disorder, everyone - the cops, her neighbors, her loved ones - consider her to be unstable and attribute her frantic accusations to drug-induced hallucinations. Yeah, it's pretty much my worst nightmare. 

As Anna's grasp on reality unravels (or appears to, heh heh), we as readers are treated to a couple of classic red herrings, heart-pounding action and some truly epic twists. I was completely compelled to keep turning pages until I knew for sure what was going down. I also really loved the references to old movies - it demonstrated a sense of meta self-awareness often absent in thrillers like this. Like a wink or a nod or something.

Keep in mind - this is nothing more than it promises to be. Quite simply, if you enjoyed The Girl on the Train, you will enjoy this. If you didn't, you won't. The language is vivid (seriously, I might actually stay away from red wine for awhile). It's tightly-written, fast-paced and even if your mind isn't blown, you'll have a good time. I docked a star because there's a twist that happens to be a super particular pet peeve of mine (predictable, yup, but mostly just lazy). 

But ... YES!!! The Woman in the Window, who knew?! Really fun, really awesome reading experience.

The Woman in the Window on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Eileen

5 stars. Eileen, Eileen, Eileen. I'm in love. I'm completely blown away. I am changed forever because now I know what honest writing looks like. 

Eileen is a young woman who lives with her father, a severe alcoholic, and works in an all-male juvenile prison in the late 1960s. This book recounts her last week before she leaves her hometown and, for better or for worse, creates a new life for herself.

It's a short but incredibly deep character study. Incredibly deep. Between the intimate details we learn about Eileen's bowel movements, unhygienic habits and self-destructive tendencies, we are granted memories and anecdotes that gradually help us form a comprehensive image of her tragic home life, family life and upbringing. The complete image, to me, is something Eileen herself would love - a high resolution capture of something so unsettling you can't look away.

There is a plot here (if I were to complain I'd complain about the climax) but the beauty of this book is in Eileen's brutal voice as she considers her father, her identity, her body, her surroundings, the people around her. I was shocked, at first, uncomfortable, then I was judgmental of Eileen - she's so unstable, she's troubled, she's abhorrent, she's disgusting, unclean - and then I realized: nope, she's normal. She's not troubled, she's just raw and unfiltered. And yes, perhaps she's a victim of unfortunate circumstances that cause her habits to become a little extreme. But I can't judge her, really - she just says what we all think, what we all contemplate; she vocalizes what we all consider and are tempted by and observe in others and ourselves. As Ottessa Moshfegh put it, “Eileen is not perverse. I think she’s totally normal … I haven’t written a freak character; I’ve written an honest character.” Either that or we're ALL perverse.

In fact, there are some things I related to immediately - Eileen's taste for the macabre, for example. "I didn't really read books about flowers or home economics. I liked books about awful things - murder, illness, death. I remember selecting one of the thickest books from the public library, a chronicle of ancient Egyptian medicine, to study the gruesome practice of pulling the brains of the dead out through the nose like skeins of yarn." I personally brag about my obsession with Egypt as a child - but I almost never admit that the reason I picked up books about Egypt in the library was to stare at the pictures of mummies. Of dead bodies.

And she stalks her crush (done that), imagines her colleagues in sexual scenarios (done that too) - sorry, is this too personal? Yeah, Eileen is like that. Like pulling out all your secrets out of the dryer - secrets you didn't even know were in there - and airing them on the balcony.

Along those lines, Moshfegh has some fascinating things to say about the more ... private ... details included: "The theatrics of graciousness and good manners are completely absurd to me. And I think they're really cruel, too. You can be sitting at a formal dinner with someone who you know is in a lot of pain, but depending on where you are you have to go through this charade and talk about how delicious the fucking salmon is, or whatever. So I like writing about the things that people spend their whole lives trying to pretend aren't there. Like pimples."

(Read the whole interview, it's amazing. Favorite quote: "At school, I learned: fuck school.")

I'm sorry, I know. I'm getting too deep, I think. I've hyperfocused on one aspect. Stuff happens in this book, I promise, and while it may not be enjoyable, exactly, it's captivating and wonderful and weird. I could go on and on about Eileen's relationship with her father, her infatuation with Rebecca, the fact that her name is Rebecca, the hideous crime surrounding Lee Polk, Eileen's hyper self-awareness and lack of self-respect... bottom line, this author is fucking talented, and this book is a joyful slap in the face.

Eileen on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Behind Her Eyes

5 stars. Hahahahaha. Awesome. 

Quick, super high-level summary: A lonely single mother, Louise, has a drunken encounter with a man in the bar, only to discover that he's her new boss. And married. To a beautiful, intriguing, seemingly-perfect woman named Adele. Soon, as she gets to know both of them, she begins to uncover secrets ... upon secrets ... upon secrets.

There's a lot that made this book successful. At first glance I was annoyed with the author for trying to channel Gillian Flynn (everyone tries to channel Gillian and everyone fails, because she writes stories that are thrilling, not thrillers ... but that's a story for another day). I felt hints of Paula Hawkins and Jane Harper, too, so I was annoyed and frustrated and all set to mock this book into oblivion for feeling so derivative. It appeared, in every sense of the word, to play by the rules.

And then things took a turn.

And then things took another turn.

And I was so into it.

Things I loved:

Sarah Pinborough's knack for writing different voices. I've read books that switch POV unsuccessfully because the author can't write more than one reliably believable tone and the characters are virtually indistinguishable. Here we have two/three individuals with their own quirks, interests, personality accents. It's wonderful and fresh and impressive.

The fact that despite very weird, wild, far-fetched, almost-maybe-supernatural events moved the plot forward, the characters behaved almost exactly like I'd expect them to - that is to say, realistically.

Pinborough's absolute, unwavering commitment. This wouldn't have worked had it been half-assed. I know there are complaints about the characters acting in ways that are ... expected, perhaps, reinforcing a caricature. But that's partly what made the puzzle pieces here fall into place - because they all fit the way they're expected to. That's a little abstract and might not make sense, but it really, really worked for me.

I know, I know, that ending (it's true - #WTFThatEnding). Sick. So sick. And somehow so satisfying in a crunchy, tangy way that hurts in all the right ways. Like taking a shot. I'm really, really blown away. The writing is good AND the plot is good AND the characters are good and I highly recommend this as a soul-sucking book that's worth your time. Convincing? No, maybe not. But just let ... it ... go and let yourself be entertained.

Behind Her Eyes on: Amazon | Goodreads