It always takes me a long time to catch up to popular writers. They enjoy a brief period of rabid success, and only once that noise has quieted do I find even a sliver of interest in their work. Such was the case once again with Gillian Flynn. Honestly, I didn’t pick up Sharp Objects because I remembered the way Gone Girl took the world by storm, but more because the mini-series starring Amy Adams intrigued me. And you know I always enjoy a decent psychological thriller now and then.
After being treated for cutting at a mental hospital, Camille Preaker is sent on assignment back to her hometown of Wind Gap, Missouri, where two young girls have been murdered. But even more troubling is Camille’s return to her childhood home, where her controlling and neurotic mother Adora lives with Camille’s stepfather and half-sister. Camille quickly remembers why she left in the first place, but soon discovers some sinister secrets about the family she left behind.
There’s something about tense family drama with a troubled parental figure that piques my interest. The Southern Gothic atmosphere adds a good flavor as well, with old houses and tight conservative values.
The book is a little slow to start, though, in the sense that I almost dropped it after the first chapter. But I pushed through and before long I was on for the ride. The most compelling aspect is, of course, Camille’s broken family. When Camille was young, her little sister Marian died, leaving her and her mother in grief, leading to Camille beginning to self-harm by cutting words into her skin. Camille also feels a strange sense of jealousy toward Marian for receiving care and attention from Adora, but she still misses her desperately.
Adora is a cold and selfish woman who flat-out tells Camille that she is hard to love, mostly because Camille is strong-willed and tomboyish, while Adora prefers girls to be more compliant and feminine. She is constantly playing the victim, and flitting about her house like a nervous bird. I’m surprised there was no mention of a fainting couch in the house, because I could see Adora falling onto one every time the murders, or any sort of inconvenience, were brought up.
But more unnerving than that is Camille’s thirteen-year-old half-sister, Amma, who is a snotty and disturbed little queen bee. She watches in fascination while sows get nursed to death at the local slaughterhouse, bullies the designated ugly fat friend of her group, and must always have the spotlight. She isn’t popular because she’s nice, but because she will make your life hell if you don’t give her what she wants. I don’t condone violence on children, but good gracious, she deserved a good punch in her over-developed chest.
I was briefly taken aback when, for some reason, Camille trusted Amma enough to tag along with her to a party, where Amma pushes Camille into getting high with her. I wondered why Camille didn’t worry if Amma was leading her into a trap, where she would get Camille in trouble with Adora and Amma would play the innocent victim. Camille knows that Amma is a manipulative little brat, so why did she go with her?
It’s plain to see why Camille never looked back at Wind Gap. Adora is too delicate to face the real world and treats her children like dolls. Amma may only be thirteen, but she is cutting and cruel with zero regard for authority or consequences. She might be the most memorable part of the whole book, because when someone that young actually feels dangerous, you fear how bad she will be later.
Other than that, Sharp Objects felt like a familiar, fairly average thriller. I don’t feel very compelled to pick up another Gillian Flynn book, but I’d still recommend this one for an engrossing, entertaining, but discomforting story.
The Library Key 