I know what you're thinking, another girl? If you’re anything like me, a reader with a nauseating amount of girl books earmarked as disappointments, you might’ve cringed when The French Girl hit your eyeline. Cue the resounding groan. But wait, turns out—maybe I shouldn’t be so quick to judge a book by its title—this is one girl that proves to be worthwhile, for the most part. I'm not saying there's Gone Girl greatness within these pages, but it's entertaining.
I have a feeling The French Girl won’t work for everyone. In fact, there might be quite a few readers who opt to throw in the towel, simply because of the pacing. Typically, I get bored easily and struggle with slower paced reads, but for some reason, not this time—shocker. The tempo is pretty even-keeled throughout and there are a few side stories—namely Kate’s fledgling headhunter firm—that detract from the main focus of the story, but I actually found myself enraptured.
Despite the slow pacing, it was this group of friends and their shifting dynamics that grabbed my attention. Six friends spent a week in the French countryside, ten years earlier, to celebrate their farewell to university life, and the trip ended with their neighbor—the mademoiselle next door—disappearing. Now, a decade later, it’s the discovery of the girl's body that sparks an investigation and lures these estranged friends back together. What really happened that fateful night?
Where I found Lexie Elliott's method to be successful was in casting doubt. Among the slow burning embers there were sparks of truth and tidbits of information sprinkled in that skewed my perception of what might have happened and who was involved. There was constant questioning on my part, even when the story veered off into unrelated and unneeded distraction territory.
Where this slow burn failed to deliver was the ending. A sluggishly-paced storyline like this one demands something impactful—a strong conclusion with a punch of shock or a jaw-dropping twist. Don’t get me wrong, what happens isn't horrible by any means, but it could and should have been so much more. Lexie Elliott's failure to knock me off-kilter felt like somewhat of a missed opportunity and the difference between what I would consider a memorable standout and an enjoyable, but forgettable experience.
Issues aside, I liked this author's writing enough to consider giving her the opportunity to really wow me with her next novel.
I have a feeling The French Girl won’t work for everyone. In fact, there might be quite a few readers who opt to throw in the towel, simply because of the pacing. Typically, I get bored easily and struggle with slower paced reads, but for some reason, not this time—shocker. The tempo is pretty even-keeled throughout and there are a few side stories—namely Kate’s fledgling headhunter firm—that detract from the main focus of the story, but I actually found myself enraptured.
Despite the slow pacing, it was this group of friends and their shifting dynamics that grabbed my attention. Six friends spent a week in the French countryside, ten years earlier, to celebrate their farewell to university life, and the trip ended with their neighbor—the mademoiselle next door—disappearing. Now, a decade later, it’s the discovery of the girl's body that sparks an investigation and lures these estranged friends back together. What really happened that fateful night?
Where I found Lexie Elliott's method to be successful was in casting doubt. Among the slow burning embers there were sparks of truth and tidbits of information sprinkled in that skewed my perception of what might have happened and who was involved. There was constant questioning on my part, even when the story veered off into unrelated and unneeded distraction territory.
Where this slow burn failed to deliver was the ending. A sluggishly-paced storyline like this one demands something impactful—a strong conclusion with a punch of shock or a jaw-dropping twist. Don’t get me wrong, what happens isn't horrible by any means, but it could and should have been so much more. Lexie Elliott's failure to knock me off-kilter felt like somewhat of a missed opportunity and the difference between what I would consider a memorable standout and an enjoyable, but forgettable experience.
Issues aside, I liked this author's writing enough to consider giving her the opportunity to really wow me with her next novel.