the girl on the train by paula hawkins
published: january 13th 2015
genres & keywords: mystery, thriller, dark
The debut psychological thriller that will forever change the way you look at other people’s lives.
EVERY DAY THE SAME
Rachel takes the same commuter train every morning and night. Every day she rattles down the track, flashes past a stretch of cozy suburban homes, and stops at the signal that allows her to daily watch the same couple breakfasting on their deck. She’s even started to feel like she knows them. Jess and Jason, she calls them. Their life—as she sees it—is perfect. Not unlike the life she recently lost.
And then she sees something shocking. It’s only a minute until the train moves on, but it’s enough. Now everything’s changed. Unable to keep it to herself, Rachel goes to the police. But is she really as unreliable as they say? Soon she is deeply entangled not only in the investigation but in the lives of everyone involved. Has she done more harm than good?
.:: RATING 3.5 STARS ::.
“What happened that night in the tunnel. Tell the truth.”
Well, that was something.
Not my best intro, I’m sure, but how good can an intro be when everything’s gone to hell in a hand basket?
I can see why I didn’t like The Girl on the Train the first time around. It was being hailed as “the next Gone Girl” and that was the first mistake. This book is not like Gone Girl. Sure, you can dissect the story and find some similarities but while Gone Girl is about power and control and politics, The Girl on the Train was more like… I don’t know… a series of unfortunate events?
Despite their differences, the both evoke the same feeling of distrust, paranoia, and what-the-fuckness. It’s just one bombshell after the other.
Dark thrillers like this kind of depress me. I love reading them, don’t get me wrong. I love the confusion and uncertainty that comes from a what happened, whodunit kind of story. But holy hell, the monotony, deceit, betrayals, addictions, infidelity… I mean, is nothing sacred anymore?
There’s a prickle at the back of my scalp, the hairs on my forearms raised. I sip my coffee and struggle to swallow. None of this is right.
I wouldn’t describe any of the characters as particularly likable, but it’s not that kind of book so I don’t think it’ll detract from it. They certainly aren’t reliable. The story just becomes so intense and so confusing that you get to the point where you’re just like I don’t give two pickles about any of these people just tell me what happens. Or maybe that’s just me.
Someone’s coming. Someone is speaking to me. Now look. Now look what you made me do.
As for who I suspected, everyone. Everyone. The story just takes off and it just steamrolls you in its intensity that by the end you’ve been sucked in as some kind of accomplice and Detective Gaskill and Riley are interrogating you.
I think having this book compared to Gone Girl did it a disservice. The two are pretty different and if you go in thinking you’re gone to get a Gone Girlesque kind of story, you’re going to be disappointed. Take it from me.
Why are you here?