payment page
Though the “Gone Girl” of the book’s title is technically Amy Dunne, the novel's events reveal that the woman in question is also the elusive “Cool Girl” whom men desire and whom no woman can embody. In its exploration of the often-conflicting ideas people in marriages have about who their spouse is, this book takes a dark detour through the psyche of internalized misogyny, toxic masculinity, and the dangers of the court of public opinion.
At the heart of Gone Girl is a deep-seated resentment towards the "Cool Girl" persona, a construct which, as Amy describes it, is intended to deceive men into falling in love with women. The "Cool Girl" is attractive, laid-back, never gets angry, and never fails to be sexually exciting. Amy's monologue about the "Cool Girl" is a bitter, jaded critique of gender expectations imposed by society. What’s worse, Amy tells the reader, is that women are complicit in this scam, and that they compete with each other based on its arbitrary rules. Taking on this persona is fundamentally about deception and self-denial, forcing women to pretend to take pleasure in things they hate, and to deny themselves things that they want. Amy's eventual rejection of this role is explosively violent, her resentment with her husband’s desire for the “Cool Girl” eventually manifesting as an attempt to have him sentenced to death. While it’s true that Nick is weak, resentful, lazy, and philandering, it’s only partially these issues that fill Amy with fury. The real issue is that she believed she’d married someone who saw through her “Cool Girl” act and truly understood her, and it turned out that Nick fell in love with her performance, not with Amy herself. In plotting to kill him, she’s symbolically taking her revenge on all men who objectify and belittle women.
Nick, for his part, grapples with his own issues with gender roles. He’s been incubated in toxic masculinity for this entire life, and was raised by a father who vocally and publicly hated women. He faces societal and familial pressure to be the provider and protector within his marriage, but Amy’s advantaged upbringing stops this short. At the beginning of their story he resents Amy for having too much money. Then he resents her for giving her trust fund back to her parents when they are both laid off, and then he resents her for everything else about their life when they’re forced to live within very limited means. Everything about Amy seems to needle and emasculate him, especially when he is already frustrated by his lack of success. His failure to live up to these traditional male roles—which, it should be noted, Amy never actually asks him to do—contributes to his deep insecurities and to the breakdown of his marriage. His affair with Andie is more about a return to a position of dominance over a woman than it is about her as a person or about deficiencies in Amy. In contrast to Amy, Andie is sweet, admiring, and uncomplicated. When Amy disappears and Andie requires care and attention, however, Nick quickly discards her as burdensome and anxiety-inducing.
Nick seems frustratingly aware of some aspects of his own toxicity. He knows, for example, that it’s not a good thing that he often hears his father’s voice in his head saying “f*cking b*tch” when he sees a woman succeeding. He’s possessed by a desperate need to be seen as a good guy, and this extends to deceiving himself about his own behavior for most of the book. By the end, when he realizes how much he has taken Amy for granted, it’s too late for him to speak to her about it from any kind of position of equality. He’s fully under her thumb, and so even a realization this important becomes functionally meaningless. All of Nick’s attempts to reclaim his dwindling vision of masculinity only result in his loss of power over anything at all.
Relatedly, Gone Girl uses the media's reaction to Amy's disappearance as a commentary on how gender stereotypes and the court of public opinion can influence how justice is dealt. Based on very little evidence at first, the media quickly demonizes Nick. Because sensationalism sells, the television and the papers lean into speculation about whether he is capable of murdering his wife. Amy is portrayed by the news as an innocent victim, also based solely on minimal, anecdotal evidence. This portrayal feeds into traditional narratives of male aggression and female vulnerability. It’s easier and simpler (and more fun) to gossip about a missing woman murdered by her husband than it is to examine the facts in a measured way. The media plays a disproportionately huge role in manipulating public sentiment in this novel, showing how social media and viral videos like Nick’s confession can turn opinions on a dime.
