Bestseller? Really?

I stated to read The Girl on the Train with the high hopes that it would be a good book. Mistake number one. I kept on reading because I assumed it would get better, mistake number two. I finished the book thinking there’s no way the end could be rubbish, I’m clearly a fool.

The Girl on the Train is about a young woman, Rachel Watson, who develops an unhealthy obsession with a young couple that she sees on the train everyday. She creates names for them, imagines what their life is like and thoroughly invests her time in imagining that they have an ideal marriage. After her own failed marriage, Rachel is desperate (I use this word kindly because what I really want to say is psychotic) to hang on to hope that love does exist. You find out early on that Rachel is an alcoholic and a self-destructive human being. In situations where a normal person would walk away Rachel hurtles forward as if reason and rationality are foreign to her. When Megan, one half of the couple she obsesses over, goes missing, Rachel appoints herself the Nancy Drew of the case. To make things even more murky, Rachel was drunk the night Megan went missing and she also happened to be in the area where Megan was last seen, thus leading the reader into a never ending pity party of self-doubt, angst and “omg did I do it?”.

There are a few reasons I despised this book:

– The character is unbelievable. I get it, Rachel is a drunk and drunks can be irrational. However, throughout the whole book I found myself thinking that she is just not believable as a person or a character. No one behaves that way, no one thinks that way. It made for a cringe worthy read.

– The pathetic female role goes to Rachel for sure but if her drunken crap wasn’t enough to make you want to rip up the book the author did you the courtesy of adding two more nauseating female roles.

– I don’t know why, maybe it’s because the novel was written in diary form but there was something about it that reminded me of Gone Girl, which if you read my review last year you would know I also hated.

In conclusion, maybe I’m a book snob or maybe as I grow older I’ve become sick of the weak female role but this book was a waste of reading time. The only redeeming quality it had is that I was fired up to write this review and warn you all.

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