"Sharp Objects" by Gillian Flynn

You can go home again, but should you? A review with relatively minor spoilers

For a wild child born into a rigid community, the usual outcome is to experience the ignominy of being shunned… The idea is to force her to conform…or to drive her from the village to languish and die in the outback. ― Clarissa Pinkola Estés

About the story

Fresh out of the psych ward, journalist Camille Parker is given a new assignment. Go back to your hometown and send us a story.

This is the stuff of nightmares, all on its own.

For Camille, the nightmare is compounded by the assignment itself—the investigation into the murders of two young girls.

The comparison between the dead girls and Camille’s own sisters, Marian and Amma, is unavoidable. Marian died young, just like the murder victims. Amma is around their age.

Camille has never really processed Marian’s death. After eight years away from home, Camille’s younger sister Amma is a virtual stranger. There is something not quite right about Amma, but Camille expects no less. Under the veneer of Southern privilege, their mother, Adora, is toxic.

Adora is as manipulative as she is gracious. To her, keeping up appearances is paramount. She is so controlling that the entire family is forced to pretend all is well, even though it very clearly is not.

Small wonder that Camille is a self-harming, alcoholic who is nowhere near ready to make peace with her past.

She does her job as reporter, however, to the best of her ability—interviewing childhood acquaintances, talking to the families of the murdered girls, dealing with local law enforcement and eventually meeting Richard, the outside investigator who might have been part of the HEA in a different sort of book.

In spite of all that, getting to the bottom of things is a long dark journey.

My observations

Sharp Objects covers some very familiar territory—coming home to a decaying southern town, a darkly Victorian mansion, a deranged killer, haunting family secrets—but Flynn is a gifted writer who puts her own twist on each of these tropes.

While the book has an ominous modern-day gothic vibe that appealed to me, it is a dark story that may be too depressing for some readers. The characters are incredibly damaged. The triggers are real and oftentimes graphic. The redemption arc, such as it is, will disappoint anyone looking for a neat, inspiring ending.

For me, none of this was a problem. I’m not a fan of huge character arcs. I am not easily triggered. I don’t like protagonists whose only flaw is being too nice, and I appreciate a bit of ambiguity in an ending.

So, for me, nothing in the book was a deal breaker.

Why I liked it

There is no happy land. There is no end to hunger. ― Thomas Wolfe, Look Homeward, Angel

I read Sharp Objects, not once, but twice. I watched the adaption on HBO. I bought it in paperback and then I bought it again in hardcover.

This doesn’t make Sharp Objects my all-time favorite book. I buy a lot of books in hardcover, and I watch a lot of adaptations of books I’ve read. I don’t read a lot of books a second time, however.

So why did I go back this one?

Resonance, I guess, to a point. But mostly because I liked the way Flynn’s characters were determined to play their parts or die in the attempt. That the most important characters were women crushed under the weight of societal expectations made perfect sense.

Which is, in my opinion, is the overarching theme of the book.

From the outside looking in, Adora is a devoted mother. Amma is a sweet and compliant daughter. Camille is a beautiful and talented young woman. But Adora’s love is toxic, Amma is secretly rebelling and Camille is destroying her own talent and beauty, drink by drink and cut by cut.

To me, the reasons these things happen are worth exploring. You don’t have to read Sharp Objects to engage in that kind of exploration, but if your tolerance for triggering content is high, you might consider it.

Potential triggers include: self-harm, addiction, trauma, child abuse, violence and murder, sexual assault, animal cruelty, and suicide.

Sharp objects on my beloved, if a little beat up, library table.

For more on my ideas about dark fiction please see:

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©2025 Barbara Graver. All rights reserved. This is an original review. Do not reproduce or redistribute without written permission.