Book Review: Gone Girl

 Gone Girl, Gillian Flynn

 

My rating: 5/5 stars

2021 TBR: 5/25

Who are you?

What have we done to each other?

These are the questions Nick Dunne finds himself asking on the morning of his fifth wedding anniversary, when his wife Amy suddenly disappears. The police suspect Nick. Amy’s friend reveals that she was afraid of him, that she kept secrets from him. He swears it isn’t true. A police examination of his computer shows strange searches. He says they weren’t made by him. And there are the persistent calls on his mobile phone.

So what did happen to Nick’s beautiful wife?

 

I truly do not think this blurb showcases the pure genius of this story and the way it is written. I was instantly intertwined with the narrative from the very beginning. The first line: ‘When I think of my wife, I always think of her head.’ What better way to begin a book which is ultimately about the portrayal of the self?

Please prepare yourself for an overly in-depth review of what is essentially sensationalist yummy mummy beach reading.

I picked up this book years ago after having heard a lot about it, probably because of the release of the film, which I never saw either. I hadn’t picked up the book but I had heard an extract from a sixth form book club (yeah I was cool at high school). I knew vaguely that it was about a terrible husband and a runaway wife, but I was in NO WAY prepared for what was to come.

After discussing my desire to read the book and watch the film with my friend Nat (shoutout to Nat she’s a genius and is probably reading this… HIIII) she suggested I watch the film first. She suggested that because of the content and style of the story, not knowing the plot would allow the film to have its full, shocking, clever effect on me. Despite being a firm believer in the Book First method, I agreed. The writing, if good, would still hold onto its impact even with knowledge of the plot.

 

This is what happened.

I watched the film, hooked up to the TV. I even dragged my parents in for a viewing party, with Nat watching 40 miles away with her parents, and we texted as we watched. I had read the first 50 or so pages so I was ahead of the first few minutes of the film, but once that had passed, I was diving in blindly. What a surprise I had in store.

It was shocking, clever, harrowing, impressive, brilliantly done. I was unprepared for every twist and turn and wine bottle self-mutilation, police inquiry, and decision the characters made. It was so well done, with the voiceover, the cinematography, the lighting, the plot, everything. The cast was impeccable. Incredible.

 

Then came the reading. I was still so intrigued by the plot despite the fact I knew what was happening.

Flynn’s characterisation of Nick is so well done. He reveals himself slowly, and suspiciously. By withholding information from the reader, and then the police, he plants seeds of doubt within the reader’s mind of his innocence. Also, there are little moments where he references reacting how he ‘should’ or what is expected of him. It makes the reader wonder what is the truth, and whether he is actually capable of what he has done. It comes across like he is putting on a show. This becomes the key theme of the novel.

This, interspersed with Amy’s narrative in diary form catching up to the present, is so clever.

We distrust Nick in his own stream of consciousness, and then in comes Amy with the evidence to back it up.

She tells us his failings as a husband, the cold words he says, the way he treats her. Even in small doses we think: I don’t trust this man.

 

Then we have the spilt selves, the portrayal of the self.

Amy is a character of multitudes. Dissected, analysed, imagined, real, unreal, and fictitious.

We have Diary Amy, whose sole purpose is to sway the police, and the reader, against Nick. To address their marital problems, and portray herself as naïve, unlucky, and ultimately a victim.

We have Dead Amy who changes as the situations develop. She cultivates a version of herself to be portrayed to the people she meets. She talks of ‘I’, meaning her new persona, the portrayed one, the one she is pretending to be. What is interesting is the way her real persona comes through. As she hides in the Ozarks, she cannot resist buying nice quality sheets and other things to decorate her space in order to reflect the high quality of life she is used to.

This outward persona is still relevant back in Carthage. Nick, although not proven guilty or innocent either way, must combat the public image in which he is portrayed. He must counteract it with his own outward persona which is a man in love with his wife, desperate for her return.

 

This is what I found the most intriguing within this novel: the way we never really know people, or circumstances, because we see and judge what we are being shown. To the public in the story, Nick is an evil baby-hating man-whore who probably killed his wife to run off with his new young piece of ass. The persona created by Amy’s diary, the sensationalist TV shows, and the police investigation. The reader has to decide which version we believe.

As a reader, I found myself sympathising with each character in their own narratives. This is good writing. Flynn manipulates us, the way her characters do, bending our allegiances with who is directly talking to us. When it is slowly revealed what Amy has done, the section is called ‘Part Two: Boy Meets Girl’. This clever rearranging of the usual events of a love story (boy meets girl, boys falls in love, boy gets girl) we see the twisted nature of Nick and Amy’s relationship. The real nature of his wife, and her life in Carthage, is revealed to him only once she has left him.

By beginning the story in the middle of the action, the disappearance of Amy, and slowly revealing their life beforehand in Amy’s diary and Nick’s memories, we are sucked in to each moment and believe exactly what we’re being told.

We aren’t comfortable reading an unreliable narrator. We like to believe what we’re being told, and that’s what makes this story so amazingly impactful. This story teaches us to distrust everything we see and hear. Nothing is the whole story. It’s all a portrayal, and in the case of Nick and Amy’s twisted relationship, a very good one.

The ending, without giving too much away, is so disturbingly perfect. It’s the correct ending in my opinion. It’s almost worse than any alternative the story could have gone down. They belong together, in their need for games and reassurance. Nick’s easily bored mentality, and Amy’s calculated, controlling nature counterpart each other well. They know each other. They wouldn’t work with anyone else.

It’s haunting, the way we leave Carthage at the end of the novel, but it’s a fitting almost-punishment for the both of them.

 

So, I have another 5 star book under my belt. I believe, even if you’ve watched the film already, you should read the book.

Gillian Flynn, it was a pleasure.

 

Ellen Victoria

Instagram: @artawaytheworld