Gone Girl (2012)
by Gillian Flynn
Gone Girl tells the whirlwind marriage of Nick and Amy Dunne. Girl and boy fall in love; get married; marriage turns sour; boy cheats; girl finds out; girl plots to frame boy for her murder. Classic tale of a failed marriage--not.
I have never been this excited to flip the pages of a book for quite some time. After feeding myself a bunch of the notable young adult fiction novels of today, Gone Girl is like a breath of mint, fresh air in my adorably romance-fed, young brain. This is exactly why I try hard to read out of my comfort zone genres. Though before Gone Girl, I have actually read Chuck Palahniuk for the first time. Tell-All was different, and equally tasteful. What they have in common: beautifully written vicious characters, never-ending mind blowing plots (to plainly play one's innocent mind and/or simply to kill), and the unexpected ending.
Tell-All was not an easy read, though. Palahniuk wrote the book like it was a script for a stage play, spoon-feeding the readers of every little detail in a scene or every frame of a film. It was his only novel I read (so far), thus, I have nothing to compare it with except to his book adapted into screenplay Fight Club (not exactly a fair comparison, nor a comparison for that matter). Both conclusions were intriguing, and definitely surprising.
Going back to Gone Girl, I loved its ending as well. Reading through the first few chapters of Diary Amy, I cannot help but think how this lovely book captured the classic romance of a "boy meets girl" fantasy in pages; while slowly unraveling the hard truth about their romanticized marriage. Yes, in reality, everyone (or most) is probably guilty of covering up their dark and ugly side in the beginning of a relationship. However, in Gone Girl, the part where you begin to show your partner some of your worse self, took quite a bit of an extreme turn.
Flynn made the most out of every flaw of Nick and Amy. She perfectly encapsulated the brain of a stereotypical woman who will go pyscho on you if you mess with her. Amy was not only scary. She was a dangerous woman on a grand scale. While Nick was your typical cheating husband. Though, he was not the stupefying kind; he was still just a man.
Exploited with these harsh faults you do not ever wish for a person to have, you do not entirely loathe them, still. Because Flynn gives them the chance to show weaknesses, and to acknowledge mistakes. To show and be good, and at the same time, let out their inner demons. Nick is a nice guy who loves his mother and sister dearly. Amy is your dream girl with the brains and the looks. Somehow, they are of equal, complementing each other. Both remain vulnerable from each others' capabilities and shortcomings. Yet, as Flynn reveals more, you also grow fonder of these two. And you start to question your sense of morality on self-righteousness and justice. Like how the media, the police, and the public (in the book) are continuously misled by the big circus created by the The Disappearance of the Amazing Amy Story. You ask who and why you root for them.
There's a difference between really loving someone and loving the idea of her.
Some may disagree (saying it's too feminist for their taste, the fuck do they even mean), but this book is pure genius. The story has the right amount of suspense and thrill. And the ending is the most satisfying (Flynn serves the conclusion to the story like a cold soup you cannot reheat). But what I truly adore about this book is how Flynn crushed the (ridiculously annoying) manic pixie dream girl premise. Amy is your "cool girl". Until, she isn't. Because no one really is (unfortunately, she crossed the border too much; turns out she's a bonafide lunatic).
(c)
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