How much is that Woman in the Window?
Voyeuristic thrillers with an alcoholic narrator have become a genre, and a very successful one, in their own right. Following the cataclysmic success of The Girl on the Girl, readers have been hankering for the next hit of outlandish domestic drama infused with a flawed lead who loves a drop, or bottle, of wine.
A J Finn’s The Woman in the Window is the latest entry into the escapist, and slightly disturbing collection.
In Finn’s novel, Anna Fox is the said central alcoholic. Haunting her own home like a ghost, Anna has agoraphobia which prevents her from stepping outside her front door. Seemingly abandoned by her own family, Anna’s windows serve as one of her only connections to the outside world.
When the Russell family move in across the road, Anna’s peering habit turn into a fascination, and eventually an unhealthy obsession with the mother, father and son.
Akin to the Hitchcock masterpiece, Rear Window, just as Anna realises the problem with her distant attachment, she witnesses something she shouldn’t. A berated mother. A distraught son. An abusive husband. Anna becomes determined to save the innocent and expose the vile.
Finn’s novel is a familiar retelling of contemporary thriller tropes. Nonetheless, it is page-turningly addictive. Best consumed within the space of a couple readings, Finn swaps realism for high stakes antics that could happen to anyone, provided you have agoraphobia and a unhealthy obsession with your neighbours.
Explorations into Anna’s past slowly, and smartly, unravel why Anna is crippled by the phobia. However, the impact of the big plot-twist reveals come somewhat muted. After all, The Woman in the Window feels like a rehash of contemporary fiction plotlines rather than a redefinition.
Finn’s exposition of mental health is interesting and alarming, particularly as the novel is narrated from Anna’s perspective. Rather than exploiting Anna as a weak dependent, Finn discusses the crippling nature of agoraphobia and pairs that with moments of hope, where Anna looks set to overcome her illness.
While such a narrator structure allows for an inquisition of Anna’s mind it does not provide an equal fleshing for other characters. This means that by the time the plot twist is revealed one is left somewhat indifferent to the impact on other characters nor blindsided by the situation.
Short and snappy, the chapters require little attention. Perfectly lending itself to summertime reading, or signifying just how familiar Finn thinks his reader will be with such a story.
The Woman in the Window has watercooler chatter bubbling, after all we are creatures of habit.
