An Intriguing Dive into Grief and Mystery: A Review of Then She Was Gone
As a book blogger, I’m always on the lookout for novels that tackle profound themes with gripping narratives, and Lisa Jewell’s Then She Was Gone certainly piqued my interest. The concept of a mother grappling with her daughter’s disappearance is achingly relatable yet hauntingly suspenseful—how can you resist diving into a narrative that promises both heartache and mystery?
The story revolves around Laurel, a mother who has endured the unimaginable: the disappearance of her teenage daughter, Ellie. When Ellie’s remains are found years later, Laurel thinks she can finally begin to heal. Enter Floyd, a kind-hearted man with surprising connections to Ellie, and his daughter Poppy, who bears an uncanny resemblance to her. Herein lies the central tension of the book—who really is Floyd, and what secrets do Poppy and he harbored?
I’ll be honest: while the premise tantalized me, the execution left something to be desired. Jewell’s writing style flows easily, making for a quick read, but I found myself rolling my eyes at the characters’ unlikeliness. Noelle, the sad sack math tutor who drags her life into a spiral of desperation centered around a man, and Floyd, who seems more like a cliché than a fully formed character, had my “bullshit meter” spinning wildly to the right. Are we really still writing women who appear to lack agency without the presence of a man to validate their worth? It feels a bit tired.
Then there’s Blue, Laurel’s daughter-in-law, who adds a dash of quirky New Age vibes with her dubious instincts about Floyd. Why must we pigeonhole a character into a “bad aura” archetype when simpler, nuanced reactions could have sufficed? Characters should invoke empathy or at least curiosity, but I found myself growing frustrated rather than invested.
Despite these irritations, Poppy was a breath of fresh air—a surprisingly resilient young girl who, against the odds, manages to navigate her world with a tenacity that sparks a bit of belief amidst the absurdity. Laurel’s journey is one of grief, but as she reconciles with her past, I couldn’t help but feel more detached than I wanted.
As the book unfolded, I couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling that the plot twist—while touted as “audacious” in the afterword—didn’t land as powerfully for me as it might for others. Perhaps this stems from my early suspicions, rooted in memories of a similar storyline from an old episode of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. The twist in that episode felt more grounded in reality than the orchestration presented here.
In conclusion, Then She Was Gone might resonate with readers who enjoy suspenseful narratives laced with familial connections and grief. If you’re a fan of stories that explore the lengths a mother will go to in order to understand her loss, this book is for you. However, if you’re looking for multi-dimensional characters and a plot that stays firmly on this earth, you may want to glance elsewhere or perhaps rediscover a classic crime drama instead. I think I’ll stick with Law & Order: SVU for my fix of convincing plot twists and compelling characters!