The Gone Girl movie comes out this Friday and if you’re anything like me, you’ll be pretending to enjoy the out-of-town wedding of a lifelong friend while actually being grumpy as fuck that you’re missing opening weekend.
To preempt my bad mood, I convinced my husband to read Gone Girl this week. A note on my husband’s reading habits. He reads a lot but his taste is very different than mine. His favourite writer is Robert Jordan and most of the time he reads books based on the Star Wars movies. I understand that Jordan’s work is as complex as George R.R. Martin’s and that the Star Wars books are really quite well done and I believe that all reading is good reading but I still give my husband a lot of shit for his choice of reading material. So it was no easy feat to get him to read Gillian Flynn since he tends to believe, on general principle, that my recommendations are snooty rubbish. But I promised to give him naming rights of our first-born (meet baby Obi-Wan) and delivered sexual favours until he gave in.
What a pleasure it has been watching him be gripped by this book. I won’t give any spoilers for those who haven’t read it, but last night he had just started part two, when the twist comes, and he decided to stay in and read while I went out with our friends for drinks. He’s been parked on the couch, biting his nails, and looking at me with growing suspicion as he learns more about the character Amy. As much as he is enjoying the book, I think I’m enjoying watching him read it even more.
Readers are good about protecting spoilers and movie watchers are not. That’s a fact. So within the next week the plot, twists and all, of Gone Girl will be well known. Before that happens, force this book into someone’s hands and watch with glee as they squirm and squirm and squirm.