Book Review: Then She Was Gone by Lisa Jewell
When I first stumbled upon Then She Was Gone, I was intrigued by the premise and drawn in by Lisa Jewell’s knack for weaving intricate tales of suspense with emotional depth. The cover hinted at a mystery that would unfold layers of grief and unexpected connections, making it impossible to resist. Little did I know, this book would lead me down a rabbit hole filled with characters that left me shaking my head and rolling my eyes more often than I would have liked.
The story centers around Laurel Mack, a mother grappling with the lingering pain of her daughter Ellie’s unresolved disappearance years earlier. While the general plot—a missing child—seemed like fertile ground for a gripping narrative, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the execution fell flat. When Ellie’s bones are discovered, Laurel attempts to piece her life back together, meeting a man named Floyd who brings complications into her world, especially through his daughter Poppy, who bears an uncanny resemblance to Ellie.
Jewell’s writing style is undeniably engaging; she has a way of drawing readers into her characters’ lives, even if I wasn’t a fan of Laurel or her love interest Floyd. Laurel’s journey as a grieving mother is relatable, but I found her to be rather passive at times—a typical archetype in these narratives. Meanwhile, Floyd feels less like a genuine character and more like a vehicle for plot twists. His continuous honeyed compliments and awkward behavior made me cringe rather than swoon.
Moreover, the supporting cast didn’t fare much better. Take Noelle, the desperate math tutor who resorts to kidnapping in her misguided quest for love—definitely a stretch for me. And then there’s Blue, Laurel’s daughter-in-law, who seems to embody every New Age stereotype ever written, which felt like an odd inclusion that distracted from the emotional gravity of the plot. It’s worth noting that some of Jewell’s characters appeared more as caricatures than complex individuals, leaving me questioning their motivations and relevance in the greater story.
Now, let’s get to the twist that the author’s agent described as audacious and shocking. While I understand that cultural standards for ‘shocking’ differ significantly between the UK and the US, I found the reveal quite predictable. In fact, I had flashbacks to an old Law & Order: Special Victims Unit episode that mirrored the same themes—one that was executed in a far more believable manner. Spoilers ahead: When the truth about Poppy’s origins unraveled, my disbelief hit maximum capacity. The connections felt contrived rather than organic, testing my ability to stay invested in the characters’ fates.
Despite these challenges, the book flows quickly, making it a fast read, which I appreciated. However, the unlikable and sometimes ridiculous cast left me with little empathy. I couldn’t help but think that perhaps I’d find more reward in reruns of Law & Order: SVU, which, at this point, I wholeheartedly recommend.
In conclusion, Then She Was Gone may resonate with readers who enjoy suspenseful narratives steeped in emotional turmoil, especially those unbothered by implausible twists. But for readers like me, looking for more relatable characters and a plot grounded in authenticity, it could be a miss. Sometimes, the journey through these fictional lives doesn’t end where we expect, and that’s a reflection of our personal reading preferences as much as it is of the author’s narrative choices.