All I've Got's What You Didn't Take.
THE BOOKENING TITLE #16: Gone Girl, Gillian Flynn.
I'm not a big fan of films, on the whole. I feel they're exactly the wrong length: too long to consume in one sitting, too short to develop their characters and relationships satisfyingly. But a handful of films have made an impact on me.
I watched Gone Girl back in 2014, and in many ways, on paper, it doesn't seem like something I would like: it's a film, it's a thriller, it's a little more cynical than my tastes usually run. (I don't like stories about awful people doing awful things! I like stories about good people doing awful things!) But it was clever and fascinating, it genuinely took me by surprise at a couple of points, and one of the awful people was nonetheless magnetic and compelling and very enjoyable to watch. I usually quickly forget films I've only seen once, but a lot of details stuck in my mind.
So I thought I'd read the book!
I love how present Amy feels as a character, even if she's not physically present. She's 'on-page' for about five paragraphs before she goes missing. But we learn so much about her, through her husband's thoughts on her and through her diary entries: this smart, strong-willed woman, romantic, resentful, in need of stimulation, refusing to abandon a project or to do anything by halves, frustrated by a world that isn't as willing to put in vast amounts of effort as she is.
The book does occasionally stray from the interesting plot and into cynical philosophical observations, which I found slightly annoying. Even when the cynical philosophical observations were interesting! Why, no, I hadn't thought about the fact that the first time you see something impressive nowadays is always on television or online; you never have your first experience of an incredible sight in person. Fascinating! Please shut up.
Which isn't to say that I didn't like the book! It was a worthwhile read. I think I just read it in a perpetual state of 'I'm enjoying this, but also it slightly annoys me.'
Below the cut I'm going into spoiler territory.
The first half of the book tries very hard to make you think the narrator did it! If the film was doing the same, I didn't pick up on it; I just thought, 'Well, obviously Nick is being falsely suspected and someone is trying to frame him.' Did I just reach the correct conclusion by being too oblivious to pick up on the red herrings?
Eventually, the book's 'hey, hey, Nick did it, right? you think that Nick did it, right?' nudging started to feel a bit ridiculous. Nick didn't do it! Why is he going out of his way to seem so suspicious in his internal monologue?
I'm interested to know how the twists would have hit me differently had I read the book first. I suspect I'd have been much less surprised by the infidelity twist (the first half of the book really wants you to think Nick is a terrible scumbag), so I'm glad I started with the film, because that was my first real '!!?? OKAY, YOU DEFINITELY HAVE MY ATTENTION' moment.
Gone Girl has one of my favourite endings across the whole of fiction. Two types of romance I love are romance based on 'we're the only people who really understand the weird things we've been through' and romance that is flat-out horrifying, so I loved 'well, I suppose we'll stay together because we're the only people who really understand the weird things we've been through, and by "the weird things we've been through" I mean YOU FRAMING ME FOR YOUR MURDER.'
Here are a couple of my favourite quotes about this horrible mess of a relationship, one from Nick's perspective, one from Amy's:
I'd already pictured myself with a regular woman - a sweet, normal girl next door - and I'd already pictured telling this regular woman the story of Amy, the lengths she had gone to ... and I already knew part of me would be looking at her and thinking: You've never murdered for me. You've never framed me. You wouldn't even know how to begin to do what Amy did. You could never possibly care that much. (It turns out I have a lot more patience for 'oh, you're not like other girls' in cases of 'oh, you're not like other girls, who never frame me for murdering them.')
Yesterday I stood on the back porch and watched the sun come up over the river, a strangely cool August morning, and when I turned around, Nick was studying me from the kitchen window, and he held up a mug of coffee with a question: You want a cup? I nodded, and soon he was standing beside me, the air smelling of grass, and we were drinking our coffee together and watching the water, and it felt normal and good.
He won't sleep with me yet. He sleeps in the downstairs guest room with the door locked.
I sort of wish I cared enough about the characters of Gone Girl to write fanfiction, because there's a lot it could be fun to dig into.
I'm not a big fan of films, on the whole. I feel they're exactly the wrong length: too long to consume in one sitting, too short to develop their characters and relationships satisfyingly. But a handful of films have made an impact on me.
I watched Gone Girl back in 2014, and in many ways, on paper, it doesn't seem like something I would like: it's a film, it's a thriller, it's a little more cynical than my tastes usually run. (I don't like stories about awful people doing awful things! I like stories about good people doing awful things!) But it was clever and fascinating, it genuinely took me by surprise at a couple of points, and one of the awful people was nonetheless magnetic and compelling and very enjoyable to watch. I usually quickly forget films I've only seen once, but a lot of details stuck in my mind.
So I thought I'd read the book!
I love how present Amy feels as a character, even if she's not physically present. She's 'on-page' for about five paragraphs before she goes missing. But we learn so much about her, through her husband's thoughts on her and through her diary entries: this smart, strong-willed woman, romantic, resentful, in need of stimulation, refusing to abandon a project or to do anything by halves, frustrated by a world that isn't as willing to put in vast amounts of effort as she is.
The book does occasionally stray from the interesting plot and into cynical philosophical observations, which I found slightly annoying. Even when the cynical philosophical observations were interesting! Why, no, I hadn't thought about the fact that the first time you see something impressive nowadays is always on television or online; you never have your first experience of an incredible sight in person. Fascinating! Please shut up.
Which isn't to say that I didn't like the book! It was a worthwhile read. I think I just read it in a perpetual state of 'I'm enjoying this, but also it slightly annoys me.'
Below the cut I'm going into spoiler territory.
The first half of the book tries very hard to make you think the narrator did it! If the film was doing the same, I didn't pick up on it; I just thought, 'Well, obviously Nick is being falsely suspected and someone is trying to frame him.' Did I just reach the correct conclusion by being too oblivious to pick up on the red herrings?
Eventually, the book's 'hey, hey, Nick did it, right? you think that Nick did it, right?' nudging started to feel a bit ridiculous. Nick didn't do it! Why is he going out of his way to seem so suspicious in his internal monologue?
I'm interested to know how the twists would have hit me differently had I read the book first. I suspect I'd have been much less surprised by the infidelity twist (the first half of the book really wants you to think Nick is a terrible scumbag), so I'm glad I started with the film, because that was my first real '!!?? OKAY, YOU DEFINITELY HAVE MY ATTENTION' moment.
Gone Girl has one of my favourite endings across the whole of fiction. Two types of romance I love are romance based on 'we're the only people who really understand the weird things we've been through' and romance that is flat-out horrifying, so I loved 'well, I suppose we'll stay together because we're the only people who really understand the weird things we've been through, and by "the weird things we've been through" I mean YOU FRAMING ME FOR YOUR MURDER.'
Here are a couple of my favourite quotes about this horrible mess of a relationship, one from Nick's perspective, one from Amy's:
I'd already pictured myself with a regular woman - a sweet, normal girl next door - and I'd already pictured telling this regular woman the story of Amy, the lengths she had gone to ... and I already knew part of me would be looking at her and thinking: You've never murdered for me. You've never framed me. You wouldn't even know how to begin to do what Amy did. You could never possibly care that much. (It turns out I have a lot more patience for 'oh, you're not like other girls' in cases of 'oh, you're not like other girls, who never frame me for murdering them.')
Yesterday I stood on the back porch and watched the sun come up over the river, a strangely cool August morning, and when I turned around, Nick was studying me from the kitchen window, and he held up a mug of coffee with a question: You want a cup? I nodded, and soon he was standing beside me, the air smelling of grass, and we were drinking our coffee together and watching the water, and it felt normal and good.
He won't sleep with me yet. He sleeps in the downstairs guest room with the door locked.
I sort of wish I cared enough about the characters of Gone Girl to write fanfiction, because there's a lot it could be fun to dig into.