If you had told me a year ago that I would be hailing a book as on par and maybe even a notch above Gillian Flynn's nerve wracking thriller Gone Girl, I would have put you down as an optimist. An hour after having finished the last page turn of The Girl On The Train by Paula Hawkins on my Kindle (the paperback edition has only just arrived in stores and I really could not wait), I must confess that Gone Girl has not just met its match, but perhaps even its master (or should that be mistress).
The Girl On The Train has been compared endlessly with Gone Girl. And with good reason. There are more than a few similarities in the plots. Both stories are told from different perspectives, often from different points of time, converging towards something horrific. And yes, once again, the ladies hold the whip hand in the plot, and errant husbands come under the microscope. But Paula Hawkins manages to weave her narrative more deftly than Gillian Flynn did in Gone Girl, and that is no mean fit. I started the book two days ago, and put it down today, feeling slightly dizzy.
For it is the switching of perspectives and reconstruction of events that lies at the core of The Girl on the Train. The story is basically about Rachel, a girl recovering from a broken marriage, who travels to London by train every day and on the way, sees a couple whom she names Jason and Jesse (she does not know their real names) from the train in a house in the neighbourhood where she used to live herself before her marriage broke down.
Rachel wonders about the couple, their lives and is a bit envious of just how happy they seem to be. And then, she sees something from the train that changes things. Shortly afterwards, one of the couple goes missing. And Rachel has to wrestle with a tough decision: should she go to the police and tell them about what she saw? Or should she go down and talk to the person who remains of the couple she used to see? Her cause is not helped by the fact that she is a bit of a drunk and has a leaky memory. Top that off with the fact that her presence in the neighbourhood is viewed with suspicion by her former husband and his new wife, both of whom have complained to the police about her, and accused her of even attempting to kidnap their child, and you can see that Rachel on slippery turf.
And it just keeps getting more slippery as Rachel tries to blunder her way through to a logical decision. To the extent that midway through the book, she seems to be viewed with deep suspicion by just about everyone. But is she imagining things or did she actually see something that could have led to a shocking crime?
It is this plot that Hawkins (it is amazing that it is her first novel) takes and twists and turns it around and around like a mazy dribble from a football forward. You get perspectives from Rachel, often addled with alcohol and trying desperately to cling on to a modicum of respect even while she still loves her husband; from her husband's new wife; and well, from the victim of the piece.
No, it is not as complicated as it sounds. Hawkins handles the different narratives brilliantly - and what makes the book work are not events that occur but the inner turmoil and uncertainty that torments the narrators. Rachel wonders if she can trust her own brains and melts at the sight of her ex-husband's smile, Anna hates Rachel and keeps wondering if she is trying to win back her lost love, and the victim...the victim has a few surprises up their ample sleeves too. The Girl On The Train is no action-packed thriller replete with car chases and blazing guns. No, it is a taut psychological thriller where you spend most of the time inside the heads of the main protagonists, your mind tensing at very twist in the plot, even the ones that you know WILL occur, because the narratives do converge some times.
Where I think Hawkins has an edge on Flynn is the tautness of the plot - things seem to flow more fluently and the denouement when it comes does not seem as forced as the one in Gone Girl. No, there is no single "oh my God" moment in the book as there was in Gone Girl, but that is because Lawson keeps building up the tension right through and does not depend on sudden spurts to get things moving. If Gone Girl was terrific junk food with flavours jumping out at you, The Girl on the Train is more like a three-course meal, each morsel of which is to be savoured. Both will chill you to the bone, but I think The Girl on the Train will stay with you a bit longer.
And it will certainly make you look out of the window of not just trains, but whichever vehicle you are travelling in. It might tempt you to look into houses.
For, as Rachel found out, you never know what you will see. And you might wish you never had. She certainly did wish so...but shush, I am not telling you any more.
My advice? Read it. But only if you have a day or two to spare. Buying it is as easy as clicking on the image above or the link below. Putting it down after starting? Ah, that will be...difficult.
The Girl On The Train has been compared endlessly with Gone Girl. And with good reason. There are more than a few similarities in the plots. Both stories are told from different perspectives, often from different points of time, converging towards something horrific. And yes, once again, the ladies hold the whip hand in the plot, and errant husbands come under the microscope. But Paula Hawkins manages to weave her narrative more deftly than Gillian Flynn did in Gone Girl, and that is no mean fit. I started the book two days ago, and put it down today, feeling slightly dizzy.
For it is the switching of perspectives and reconstruction of events that lies at the core of The Girl on the Train. The story is basically about Rachel, a girl recovering from a broken marriage, who travels to London by train every day and on the way, sees a couple whom she names Jason and Jesse (she does not know their real names) from the train in a house in the neighbourhood where she used to live herself before her marriage broke down.
Rachel wonders about the couple, their lives and is a bit envious of just how happy they seem to be. And then, she sees something from the train that changes things. Shortly afterwards, one of the couple goes missing. And Rachel has to wrestle with a tough decision: should she go to the police and tell them about what she saw? Or should she go down and talk to the person who remains of the couple she used to see? Her cause is not helped by the fact that she is a bit of a drunk and has a leaky memory. Top that off with the fact that her presence in the neighbourhood is viewed with suspicion by her former husband and his new wife, both of whom have complained to the police about her, and accused her of even attempting to kidnap their child, and you can see that Rachel on slippery turf.
And it just keeps getting more slippery as Rachel tries to blunder her way through to a logical decision. To the extent that midway through the book, she seems to be viewed with deep suspicion by just about everyone. But is she imagining things or did she actually see something that could have led to a shocking crime?
It is this plot that Hawkins (it is amazing that it is her first novel) takes and twists and turns it around and around like a mazy dribble from a football forward. You get perspectives from Rachel, often addled with alcohol and trying desperately to cling on to a modicum of respect even while she still loves her husband; from her husband's new wife; and well, from the victim of the piece.
No, it is not as complicated as it sounds. Hawkins handles the different narratives brilliantly - and what makes the book work are not events that occur but the inner turmoil and uncertainty that torments the narrators. Rachel wonders if she can trust her own brains and melts at the sight of her ex-husband's smile, Anna hates Rachel and keeps wondering if she is trying to win back her lost love, and the victim...the victim has a few surprises up their ample sleeves too. The Girl On The Train is no action-packed thriller replete with car chases and blazing guns. No, it is a taut psychological thriller where you spend most of the time inside the heads of the main protagonists, your mind tensing at very twist in the plot, even the ones that you know WILL occur, because the narratives do converge some times.
Where I think Hawkins has an edge on Flynn is the tautness of the plot - things seem to flow more fluently and the denouement when it comes does not seem as forced as the one in Gone Girl. No, there is no single "oh my God" moment in the book as there was in Gone Girl, but that is because Lawson keeps building up the tension right through and does not depend on sudden spurts to get things moving. If Gone Girl was terrific junk food with flavours jumping out at you, The Girl on the Train is more like a three-course meal, each morsel of which is to be savoured. Both will chill you to the bone, but I think The Girl on the Train will stay with you a bit longer.
And it will certainly make you look out of the window of not just trains, but whichever vehicle you are travelling in. It might tempt you to look into houses.
For, as Rachel found out, you never know what you will see. And you might wish you never had. She certainly did wish so...but shush, I am not telling you any more.
My advice? Read it. But only if you have a day or two to spare. Buying it is as easy as clicking on the image above or the link below. Putting it down after starting? Ah, that will be...difficult.
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