Book Review: The Girl on the Train, by Paula Hawkins

None of the women featured in Paula Hawkins’ thriller The Girl on the Train are particularly likable. Rachel, the main character, is a drunk. Anna stole Rachel’s husband. Megan has panic attacks and sleeps around. Their careers aren't particularly important to them, but they feel incomplete without a man (or men) in their life. And those men aren’t peaches either.

Cover of The Girl on the Train, by Paula Hawkins.

Hawkins’ choice of narrative style also gave me pause. Each of the women tells their part of the story in first-person present-tense, delivered via excerpts stamped with dates and time of day (usually “morning” or “evening”). The passages almost read like journal entries, or extended anecdotes relayed to a camera or transcriber, but they’re meant to describe what’s happening in real time. For one character, this wouldn’t have strained credulity too far. But when we head hop in this style between three characters, the seams start to show, especially when Hawkins shuffles the chronology.

So why couldn’t I put this book down?

Because Hawkins’ keeps the pacing taut, while still finding time to tell us enough about the characters to make us feel sorry for (most of) them, and even root for them to get their acts together. It’s skillfully done.

Does this make The Girl on the Train great literature? No. But it doesn’t need to be—thrillers aren’t expected to make us reexamine our outlook on life or impart a weighty lesson. They just need to entertain. And Hawkins’ latest novel does that in spades.

 

Buy The Girl on the Train on: Amazon | Barnes & Noble

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Cover of the historical fantasy novel Witch in the White City, by Nick Wisseman.

"... a wild ride sure to please lovers of supernatural historical mysteries."

Publishers Weekly

 

Neva’s goals at the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition in Chicago are simple. Enjoy the spectacle—perhaps the greatest the United States has ever put on (the world’s fair to end all world’s fairs!). Perform in the exposition’s Algerian Theatre to the best of her abilities. And don’t be found out as a witch.

Easy enough … until the morning she looks up in the Theatre and sees strangely marked insects swarming a severed hand in the rafters.

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