The Goldfinch

I liked this book well enough at the beginning. I felt for Theo and his mom. I enjoyed the tension of not knowing how/when his mom would die and the subsequent what-will-Theo-do-now turn his life takes once his mom is gone. But then Theo goes to Vegas, and then comes back to New York, and his hazy, blurred-together drug-use days lack the urgency and emotional connection of the first part of the book. (Maybe that was the point.)

We flash-forward, finally, and things pick up. I am interested again in what is happening with Theo. I am not sure if all is at it seems and this intrigues me. Boris returns and I am fascinated to see the Vegas days through his eyes. I realize Theo has not been a reliable narrator. I wonder why I am surprised.

The pace picks up even more and we suddenly find ourselves in a heist movie. Things move so quickly, I can barely turn the pages fast enough to keep up. The haziness returns however, and we have a long, surreal scene that seems to be moving inexorably towards the inevitable end that has been waiting for Theo all along. Until the knock on the door and a kind of unbelievable ending that maybe was the only possible ending because making all the wrong decisions and taking all the wrong paths has led Theo to exactly the right place. At this point, this book has somehow gone from a begrudgingly given, but honestly earned three stars, to a breathless, where-did-that-rollercoaster-come-from???? four stars.

And then we enter the final stretch wherein Theo, our emotionally stunted protagonist, finally experiences personal enlightenment and lays down the truths of the world, as he seems them. I don't agree with everything he says, but I felt all of it deeply (as clearly evidenced by this 1am scribbling). I underlined pretty much the entire last part of this book and as soon as I finished, I read the last part again. I questioned the tenets Theo believes in, agreeing with some wholeheartedly and completely rejecting others. Why are we each the way we are? Can we change who we are? Why do we sometimes desperately want the things that are worst for us? Is it better to live a “proper” life of quiet desperation or should we throw ourselves into the flames of our most closely cherished desires? Are we all just chained goldfinches? Finally, I come to the last page or so and this book does what I was least expecting. It switches from a minor chord to a major chord. Just a little major chord, but still, the hopeful notes are there. And just like that, we're at 5 stars.