Bridgman reviewed The Grownup by Gillian Flynn
Review of 'The Grownup' on 'Goodreads'
4 stars
[a:Gillian Flynn|2383|Gillian Flynn|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1232123231p2/2383.jpg]'s 2014 [b:The Grownup|26025580|The Grownup|Gillian Flynn|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1441679582l/26025580.SY75.jpg|45948939] is a short ghost story that was, the cover says, "A special gift from the Book of the Month Club." It origionally appeared in George R.R. Martin's Rogues anthology with the title What Do You Do? I'd never read anything by Flynn, so I figured this was my chance.
It's fine for its genre, but writing about it now, nearly a month after reading it, I realize I've forgotten most things about it. The main thing I remember is that it begins describing how its main character, a female sex worker, came to leave that line of work. I have no objection to that kind of thing, but in this current era of idiots wanting to ban books, I couldn't help seeing this as a poor marketing decision.
I like the way Flynn writes, though.
It lurked. It was the …
[a:Gillian Flynn|2383|Gillian Flynn|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1232123231p2/2383.jpg]'s 2014 [b:The Grownup|26025580|The Grownup|Gillian Flynn|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1441679582l/26025580.SY75.jpg|45948939] is a short ghost story that was, the cover says, "A special gift from the Book of the Month Club." It origionally appeared in George R.R. Martin's Rogues anthology with the title What Do You Do? I'd never read anything by Flynn, so I figured this was my chance.
It's fine for its genre, but writing about it now, nearly a month after reading it, I realize I've forgotten most things about it. The main thing I remember is that it begins describing how its main character, a female sex worker, came to leave that line of work. I have no objection to that kind of thing, but in this current era of idiots wanting to ban books, I couldn't help seeing this as a poor marketing decision.
I like the way Flynn writes, though.
It lurked. It was the only remaining Victorian house in a long row of boxy new construction, and maybe that's why it seemed alive, calculating. The mansion's front was all elaborate, carved stonework, dizzying in its detail: flowers and filigrees, dainty rods and swooping ribbons. Two life-sized angels framed the doorway, their arms reaching upward, their faces fascinated by something I couldn't see.
I watched the house. It watched be back through long, baleful windows so tall a child could stand in the sill. And one was.