“The Woman in the Window”, by A. J. Finn

 

 

448 pages, HarperCollins, ISBN-13: 978-0062678416

Another book I assigned for the Fraser Public Library’s Mysteries & Munchies book club, The Woman in the Window by A. J. Finn (that would be Daniel Mallory to his friends) features another unreliable female narrator. Dr. Anna Fox, a once-successful child psychologist, finds herself a prisoner in her own home suffering from agoraphobia. She spends her days drinking (too much) wine, playing online chess, counseling patients on the ‘net, watching old movies, recalling happier times with her husband and daughter – and spying on her neighbors. The way in which Finn unrolls the clues of Anna’s life and condition, and how she got here from there, really draws one in and hooks them from the beginning – as does her voice; Anna’s near-constant irreverence and snideness drew me in ever-deeper until I found myself devouring page after page, wanting to learn more and more about her and what drove such a bright woman into such dire circumstances. I was hooked from the get-go.

I admit, the number of thrillers out there that involve an unreliable woman whom nobody believes because she drinks too much, or pops too many pills, or both, is becoming rather tedious (see my review of The Woman in Cabin 10 from coming soon as an example). But this unreliability is central to the plot (and, probably, to all the other plots driving all those other books). What makes Anna stand out so is her voice as, trained child psychologist that she is, she dissects everything she sees with a scalpel and then minutely observes the results. And in a voice that is as acerbic as rubbing alcohol on sandpaper. As the book rolls out its facts in dribs and drabs, you learn that this observational technique is used on herself, as well – only you don’t know it. I have read other reviews that claim that the plot is obvious and predictable, but I found this not to be so; the writing is such that each revelation was a surprise that made me reread what I had read and to admire Finn and his technique.

Whether or not The Woman in the Window is derivative, I thought that Finn wove a mystery that kept me guessing for most of the book. The facts I found to be excellent accessories to the tale, with details from old movies and references to Hitchcock and Christie adding to the story; furthermore, Finn did so in such a way that the end result was not some slavish imitation of past masters of the art but rather an homage to the same. But it all comes back to Anna, as compelling a Train Wreck as one could hope for. While the revelation as to how and why her agoraphobia took over her life changes your view of her, it adds rather than detracts; she is no saint and knows it, once again bringing her therapist eye to a subject close to her – herself. None of us is perfect and most of us don’t like reading about flawless, impossible characters; it is our faults that make us human and, by extension, relatable to each other. And Anna is no different, God bless her.

If you have read other books that I have heard resemble The Woman in the Window – Gone Girl and The Girl on the Train come to mind – then perhaps you will not be so enamored with Finn’s efforts; IF, however, those other books are mysteries to you, then this one will rope you in and keep you hooked from start to finish. In this regard, ignorance truly is bliss.