When I think of my wife, I always think of her head. The shape of it, to begin with. The very first time I saw her, it was the back of the head I saw, and there was something lovely about it, the angles of it. Like a shiny, hard corn kernel or a riverbed fossil. She had what the Victorians would call a finely shaped head. You could imagine the skull quite easily.
I’d know her head anywhere.
And what’s inside it. I think of that too: her mind. Her brain, all those coils, and her thoughts shuttling through those coils like fast, frantic centipedes. Like a child, I picture opening her skull, unspooling her brain and sifting through it, trying to catch and pin down her thoughts. What are you thinking, Amy? The question I’ve asked most often during our marriage, if not out loud, if not to the person who could answer. I suppose these questions stormcloud over every marriage: What are you thinking? How are you feeling? Who are you? What have we done to each other? What will we do?
My eyes flipped open at exactly six a.m. This was no avian fl uttering of the lashes, no gentle blink toward consciousness. The awakening was mechanical. A spooky ventriloquist- dummy click of the lids: The world is black and then, showtime! 6- 0- 0 the clock said— in my face, first thing I saw. 6-0-0. It felt different. I rarely woke at such a rounded time. I was a man of jagged risings: 8:43, 11:51, 9:26. My life was alarmless.
At that exact moment, 6-0-0, the sun climbed over the skyline of oaks, revealing its full summer angry-god self. Its reflection flared across the river toward our house, a long, blaring finger aimed at me through our frail bedroom curtains. Accusing: You have been seen. You will be seen.
I wallowed in bed, which was our New York bed in our new house, which we still called the new house, even though we’d been back here for two years. It’s a rented house right along the Mississippi River, a house that screams Suburban Nouveau Riche, the kind of place I aspired to as a kid from my split-level, shag-carpet side of town. The kind of house that is immediately familiar: a generically grand, unchallenging, new, new, new house that my wife would—and did—detest.
“Should I remove my soul before I come inside?” Her first line upon arrival. It had been a compromise: Amy demanded we rent, not buy, in my little Missouri hometown, in her firm hope that we wouldn’t be stuck here long. But the only houses for rent were clustered in this failed development: a miniature ghost town of bank-owned, recession-busted, price-reduced mansions, a neighborhood that closed before it ever opened. It was a compromise, but Amy didn’t see it that way, not in the least.
Copyright © 2012 by Gillian Flynn
On their first four wedding anniversaries, Nick’s wife Amy sent him on an intricate scavenger hunt to find her gift to him. But after she disappears on their fifth, the police think the game has turned deadly…and Nick is involved. Amy’s friends claim she was pregnant and that he was furious, even though Nick swears it isn’t true. And his protests of ignorance regarding searches on his computer for death by smothering…nearby wooded areas…and how to obtain arsenic fall on deaf ears. What the beleaguered college professor cannot deny is that his marriage was unraveling, and that he and a student have been having an affair….
A master of mind-twisting plots, Gillian Flynn keeps you guessing right up to Gone Girl’s shocking, climactic end.
Hardcover Book : 432 pages
Publisher: Crown Publishers Inc./Random House ( June 05, 2012 )
Item #: 13-531422
Product Dimensions: 5.5 x 8.25 x 0.97inches
Product Weight: 16.0 ounces (View shipping rates and policies)
I see I am not the only one who feels this way... I loved the book and could not put it down. I was waiting and waiting to get to the end, but the end was a huge let-down for me. I am surprised it has been on the best seller list for so long, just BECAUSE of the ending. Is this left open so other books can be written with the same characters? I so wanted the wife to be killed off.
I guess you either hate this book or love it based on all the reviews. I hated it, couldn't finish it, and had to skim it just to see what all the fuss was about with the so called surprise ending. This book is so bad that even the ending was no surprise at all. I have no idea why this book is a best seller except that the publisher must have paid for a bunch of good reviews. I have never written a bad review on a book before, so I'm not in the habit of slamming books, but this sucked me in with the good reviews and I just couldn't let those stand. Hoping that no one else buys this book.
Reviewer: Karen L
I knew exactly what was going on after the first few chapters. Not too many surprises. NONE of the characters were likeable. I didn't find myself rooting for anyone. AND finally, I hated the ending. I hate open-ended novels. I don't think anyone likes them. Why do authors do that??
Gone Girl is twisted and uncomfortable and so wonderfully fun! You never know where the story will go. Great characters (and you don't have to like them to love them). This isn't some sappy romance or cookie cutter mystery. I read a lot and I'll have to say this is one of the best books I've read in the past few years! No surprise it has been on most best seller lists for so long.
The book is hard to get into, but once you do it starts getting good. I thought the plot and manipulation of the characters was very good, but I figured out what happened to Amy about a quarter of the way through the book. I could not put the book down because I was so excited to see what would happen in the end but once I did get to the last 10 or so paged I was extremely disappointed. The ending is horrible and honestly ruined the whole book for me. I would not recemmend this book to anyone just because of the ending.