Chicago-based Gillian Flynn writes a first novel that, in the guise of a thriller, provides a startlingly sharp look at American small town life. Nearly every section ends with a cruel revelation of character, a townperson’s creepy off-the-cuff remark, or an insight into narrator Camille Preaker that you’re not sure you wanted to have. Sharp Objects is wildly successful at what it is: a mystery, and a vision of a town culture so inbred by backbiting gossip that personalities seem as deformed as the Hapsburg lip.
