Sharp Objects

Camille Preaker is a unseasoned Chicago reporter with a trouble past. When a moment young female child goes missing in her home town, Wind Gap, MO, Camille ’ s fatherly boss sends her down to get the inside outdo. Who says you can ’ t go home again ? Well, possibly you can, but would you in truth want to ? There is a cause she is in Chicago, rather of Podunk, MO, and the risk for Camille lies as much with her delicate psychological state, a merchandise of her childhood, as it might with a psycho-killer on the loose. “

Wind Gap is home to an array of characters left over from

Gillian Flynn – Image from Orion Books

Less than a year ago a young girl was found dead, floating in a stream, strangled, with her teeth removed. Now a second girl, about the same age, has gone missing and folks are fearing the worst. Well, duh-uh. ‘Ere long the body is found wedged in a foot-wide space between two buildings, sans pearly whites. The game is afoot.

Camille has to cope with an uncooperative local Sheriff and then try to get some, any information from the very cute Kansas City detective who had been brought in to help out. Camille is presented as a dish, and there is definite sexual tension between the reporter and the town’s visiting investigator. [ Ok I actually beginning wrote “ between the reporter and the town ’ s visiting cock ”, but my wife ( who does not have the mind of a 12 year old boy ) shamed me into removing it. normally she does not see my material until it is on line but had expressed curiosity about the book, so got a preview. ( hide spoiler )

Amy Adams as Camille Preaker – image from NY Times

Camille makes the rounds, visiting the families of the victims, reconnecting, for good or ill with her former schoolmates, most of whom seem never to have heard of the women’s movement. But the largest connection for Camille in Wind Gap is her childhood home, inhabited by her mother, stepfather and half-sister. Cue thunder and lightning, creepy music and under the chin lighting. Mom, ironically named Adora, has the warm presence of a guillotine and Camille’s stepfather, Alan, appearing in various costumes, seems to need only a pinky ring and fluffy white lap cat to complete the cartoon.

We all know what happens when we return to the houses in which we were raised. We regress. Come on, admit it. We behave like the children we once were. At the very least we feel the tug of those urges. In Camille’s case, her home life was, shall we say, lacking. Her little sister, Marian, had died when Camille was kid. Attempting to cope with that and some other issues, she took to a bit of long-lasting self-destructive behavior. In case the razor on the cover of this book is not obvious enough, Camille is a cutter, or was anyway. Not just lines, but words. And the words on her skin pop into her mind as she digs into her research and takes on the psychological challenges of her home town. We learn early on that she had spent some time in rehab attempting to overcome her addiction. The Camille we meet here may be scarred, but is trying to carve a less destructive path forward for herself. It is a challenge, and represents a parallel set of mysteries. How did the adolescent Camille reach a place where she felt it necessary to indulge in such harmful behavior? What’s the deal with her family? Camille has to figure out not only the secret of the two murders, but her own history.

Eliza Scanlen as Amma Crellin

Her background makes it easier for her to relate to her thirteen-year-old stepsister, Amma, who knew both the dead girls. They share some traits. Like Camille as a kid, Amma (a word that usually means “mother”) is a mean-girl group leader, headstrong, bright, and not someone you would ever cross. Amma is physically precocious, and behaviorally far beyond that. She can usually be seen with her girl-pack, laughing at funerals, or, metaphorically, kicking cripples.

Adding to the creepshow atmosphere, and keeping the cutting notion sharp, there is a slaughterhouse in town. One particular scene resonated a lot. In the slaughterhouse, sows are positioned on their sides, with absolutely no room to maneuver, and piglets are brought to the captive females to nurse. It is not an inducement to eating bacon. It so happened that I had seen a film, Samsara, the day before reading the book, in which this very scene was shown. In the book, an added element is that a young girl sits and watches this with unnatural pleasure.

We learn more about the victims in time, and it is a somewhat fun ride. But every now and then Camille does or says something that makes you shake your jowls like Louis Black approaching a punch line and burble out a WTF? And those moments take one out of the story.

Patricia Clarkson as Adora Crellin

There is clear evidence of talent on display. I liked the prefiguring of the opening in which Preaker is looking at her latest story, about a crack-addled mother who abandoned her kids. Mothering figures prominently in the story. Using a slaughterhouse to echo the cutting Camille practices on herself, and maybe some other horrors as well, may have been a bit heavy-handed, but fine, ok. Having Camille carve words into her skin definitely seems over the top to me, a bit of literary license, but fine, ok. I enjoyed the fun noir twang with which Flynn begins her story, but it seemed to fade quite a lot over the course of 254 pages. Fine, ok. And for fun, Camille, who has been known to hoist a few, manages to visit what seems every bar in town. I took it to be a running joke, but I am not 100% certain. Fine, ok. I felt a lot of fine, ok here.

There is some sex, a fair bit of sexiness, some serious creepiness, a bit of satisfaction to be had in the procedural elements of finding this out then that. But while there may have been satiric intent at work, the characters were either too inconsistent, too thinly drawn or even cartoonish to invest much emotionally. Sharp Objects may have been the bleeding edge of Flynn’s career as a novelist, and it is not a bad first cut, but it left me hoping that she would apply her obvious talent with finer lines next time, maybe use some subtler shades and etch more believable characters, give us material we could dig into a little deeper.

The images (except for the author’s) are from the HBO mini-series made from the book.

=============================EXTRA STUFF

Links to the author’s

March 23, 2013 – GR pal
BTW, Powell’s moved the location of this file. Thanks to sharp-eyed

NY Times –
[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]>[“br”]> Camille Preaker is a young Chicago reporter with a disruptive past. When a second youthful girl goes missing in her home township, Wind Gap, MO, Camille ’ s fatherly boss sends her down to get the inside outdo. Who says you can ’ triiodothyronine go home again ? Well, possibly you can, but would you very want to ? There is a reason she is in Chicago, rather of Podunk, MO, and the danger for Camille lies as much with her finespun psychological state, a product of her childhood, as it might with a psycho-killer on the loose. “ Qu’est-ce que c’est ? “ Wind Gap is home to an range of characters left over from GCB, ( Yes, I know it was published before the read ) Stepford and Village of the Damned, and mix in a snatch of Mommie Dearest and Cruella de Vil. Sounds like fun, no ? Sorry to disappoint, but not indeed much.- trope from Orion BooksLess than a year ago a youthful girl was found dead, floating in a stream, strangled, with her teeth removed. now a moment girlfriend, about the same age, has gone missing and folks are fearing the worst. well, duh-uh. ‘ Ere long the body is found wedged in a foot-wide distance between two buildings, sans chopper whites. The game is afoot.Camille has to cope with an uncooperative local Sheriff and then try to get some, any information from the very cute Kansas City detective who had been brought in to help out. Camille is presented as a cup of tea, and there is definite intimate tension between the reporter and the town ’ mho visiting investigator. ( view plunderer ) Amy Adams as Camille Preaker – image from NY TimesCamille makes the rounds, visiting the families of the victims, reconnecting, for adept or ailment with her early schoolmates, most of whom seem never to have listen of the women ’ sulfur campaign. But the largest connection for Camille in Wind Gap is her childhood home, inhabited by her mother, stepfather and half sister. Cue thunder and lightning, creepy music and under the chin lighting. Mom, ironically named Adora, has the strong presence of a guillotine and Camille ’ south stepfather, Alan, appearing in respective costumes, seems to need alone a little finger ring and downy white lap vomit to complete the cartoon.We all know what happens when we return to the houses in which we were raised. We regress. Come on, admit it. We behave like the children we once were. At the very least we feel the tug of those urges. In Camille ’ second case, her home life was, shall we say, lacking. Her little baby, Marian, had died when Camille was kid. Attempting to cope with that and some other issues, she took to a bite of durable self-destructive behavior. In case the razor on the binding of this book is not obvious adequate, Camille is a tender, or was anyhow. not just lines, but words. And the words on her clamber pop into her thinker as she digs into her research and takes on the psychological challenges of her home town. We learn early on that she had spent some time in rehab attempting to overcome her addiction. The Camille we meet here may be scarred, but is trying to carve a less destructive path advancing for herself. It is a challenge, and represents a parallel set of mysteries. How did the adolescent Camille reach a place where she felt it necessary to indulge in such harmful behavior ? What ’ s the share with her family ? Camille has to figure out not only the unavowed of the two murders, but her own history.Eliza Scanlen as Amma CrellinHer background makes it easier for her to relate to her thirteen-year-old half sister, Amma, who knew both the dead girls. They share some traits. Like Camille as a child, Amma ( a password that normally means “ mother ” ) is a mean-girl group leader, froward, bright, and not person you would ever cross. Amma is physically precocious, and behaviorally far beyond that. She can normally be seen with her girl-pack, laughing at funerals, or, metaphorically, kicking cripples.Adding to the creepshow standard atmosphere, and keeping the cutting notion sharp, there is a abattoir in town. One particular scenery resonated a lot. In the abattoir, sows are positioned on their sides, with absolutely no room to maneuver, and piglets are brought to the prisoner females to nurse. It is not an inducement to eating bacon. It so happened that I had seen a film, , the day before reading the koran, in which this very scene was shown. In the book, an total chemical element is that a young daughter sits and watches this with affected pleasure.We learn more about the victims in time, and it is a slightly fun ride. But every now and then Camille does or says something that makes you shake your jowls like Louis Black approaching a punch line and burble out a WTF ? And those moments take one out of the story.Patricia Clarkson as Adora CrellinThere is clear tell of talent on display. I liked the prefigure of the unfold in which Preaker is looking at her latest narrative, about a crack-addled mother who abandoned her kids. Mothering figures prominently in the floor. Using a abattoir to echo the cutting Camille practices on herself, and possibly some other horrors as well, may have been a bit heavy-handed, but fine, ok. Having Camille carve words into her clamber decidedly seems over the circus tent to me, a bit of literary license, but fine, o. I enjoyed the fun noir twang with which Flynn begins her report, but it seemed to fade quite a set over the course of 254 pages. Fine, ok. And for fun, Camille, who has been known to hoist a few, manages to visit what seems every bar in township. I took it to be a run joke, but I am not 100 % sealed. Fine, oklahoma. I felt a lot of fine, o here.There is some sex, a fair bit of amorousness, some serious creepiness, a bit of gratification to be had in the procedural elements of finding this out then that. But while there may have been satirical intent at workplace, the characters were either excessively discrepant, excessively thinly drawn or even cartoonish to invest much emotionally.may have been the bleeding border of Flynn ’ s career as a novelist, and it is not a bad first cut, but it left me hoping that she would apply her obvious talent with fine lines next time, possibly use some subtle shades and etch more credible characters, give us corporeal we could dig into a little deeper.The images ( except for the generator ’ second ) are from the HBO mini-series made from the book.=============================Links to the writer ’ s personal Twitter and FB pagesMarch 23, 2013 – GR pal Peg clued us in to a fantastic firearm Flynn wrote for Powell ‘s, that goes a way to illuminating her literary choices. If you read this or other books by Flynn, this short-change while is MUST READ material.BTW, Powell ‘s moved the location of this file. Thanks to keen-eyed Marty Fried, it is linked again.NY Times – Gillian Flynn Peers Into the Dark Side of Femininity – by Lauren Oyler – Nov. 8, 2018 [ “ red brigades ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] > [ “ red brigades ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] > [ “ red brigades ” ] > [ “ red brigades ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] > [ “ red brigades ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] > [ “ red brigades ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] > [ “ red brigades ” ] > [ “ red brigades ” ] > [ “ red brigades ” ] > [ “ red brigades ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] > [ “ red brigades ” ] > [ “ red brigades ” ] > [ “ red brigades ” ] > [ “ red brigades ” ] > [ “ red brigades ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] > [ “ red brigades ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] > [ “ bromine ” ] >