The Goldfinch (2013)

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For years, I adored Donna Tartt and considered her one of my favorite authors, despite having only read one of her books.  The Secret History is just a gorgeous book filled with startlingly-detailed characters and pitch-perfect prose.  Problematic though its final act may be, there aren’t many books that hit me like that one did.  I love it so much, in fact, that I resisted the idea of reading The Little Friend, her follow-up novel, for fearing of breaking the spell.

 

Well, I still haven’t read The Little Friend, but I’m no longer a one-Tartt woman (doesn’t that sound suggestive?)  The Goldfinch came out last fall, and I was sort of gobsmacked.  I’m not sure if it ever quite reaches the highs of The Secret History (though that could be the first-time factor talking,) but I think it’s ultimately a stronger book, put together more thoughtfully with greater maturity and a more satisfying resolution.

 

Our guide through The Goldfinch is Theo Decker, a clever, under-achieving middle schooler from New York City.  A school suspension, an art gallery, and a senseless act of terrorism conspire to upend Theo’s life.  In a sickeningly-disorienting blink of an eye, he’s lost the only family he’s ever claimed, and his home and city are quick to retreat as well.  The narrative spans decades, leaping from Manhattan to the desert to the Netherlands as Theo dizzingly comes of age.  He spirals out of control, he forges unlikely friendships, he makes colossal mistakes, and he touches world-shifting beauty.  A small, exquisite painting from a Dutch master is the thread that binds the fragments of his life together, no matter where he goes.

 

As with The Secret History, Tartt’s talent for characterization is front and center.  Her unique or eccentric characters really feel like people, not like “unique/eccentric” archetypes.  They’re painted stroke by stroke, made from hundreds of tiny, incidental observations that blend to create a complete individual.  Theo is an excellent narrator, funny and intelligent, sometimes maddening, often heartbreaking.  He’s surrounded by a wealth of rich supporting characters, from furniture dealers to cocktail waitresses.  My favorite is probably Boris, an impulsive, affectionate, poly-lingual wildcard who befriends Theo.

 

The prose is another highlight (once again, no surprise.)  The initial description of the attack captures the stomach-churning noise, blood, and confusion of a sudden disaster, and Tartt deftly shows how its aftershocks echo into Theo’s adult life.  Much attention is paid to beauty, in art and antique furniture, and Tartt’s exploration of the subject is stunning in its own right.  Theo is a great lover of beauty, someone who sees, and his insights dazzle.  There are points where this book rivals Sunday in the Park with George as a rumination on the nature of art, and that’s saying something.

 

Don’t let the length (nearly 800 pages) put you off – The Goldfinch is sublime.

 

Warnings

 

Swearing, sexual content, violence, criminal activity, and tons of substance abuse, including alcohol, smoking, and drug use.  That might make it sound tawdry, but it’s really, really not.