The book opens with Rachel as the narrator. She's sitting on the train. She's watching the homes slide by and she makes up stories about the lives of the people who live within the homes. She has no life of her own. She did, but now she doesn't. She's an alcoholic. She makes terrible choices.
She gets drunks and rings her ex-husband. She watches his home from the train like a real voyeur. She injects herself into events that do not concern her to add some interest to her life. And yes, you have to spend endless passages inside this woman's head. It's frustrating. I guess it might be the kind of frustration that comes with living with a real alcoholic. The endless backsliding and promises not to repeat.
The next person you spend that much time with is Megan. She's vague and doesn't seem to really do much. She sees a therapist. She's got some issues. She has a confession, a breath catching, eyes starting to water as I listen on my long run, confession. It's heart breaking. I end up liking her despite myself.
The last narrator is Anna, the new wife of Rachel's ex. She's irritating and holier than thou, even though she snatched away Rachel's husband and liked it. I liked her even less than Rachel.
I think my main problem is that you spend so much time in melancholy with Rachel and Megan that it starts to rub off on you. There's really no joy in the book.
So, why did I like the book? The writing is fantastic. The narrative voices of the three main characters are distinct. The plot is great, although it does get a bit slow in some parts. And I liked the mystery aspect to it.
4/5 Stars.
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