The Goldfinch

I stopped listening to this almost 2/3 of the way in. It was making me too anxious.
Theo's choices and the path he was taking were too stressful to me.

Unlike some criticism I've read while trying to find out how the book finished, I don't think clichéd writing was a problem in this book. In a lengthy novel not everything can be inventive. There were, in fact, many times when a turn of phrase would be so creative and apt that I was astounded by the effect.

While not every artwork is for everyone, great art can have a powerful effect on the viewer. The title work of Donna Tartt's The Goldfinch is a small painting by Carel Fabritius, showing the namesake bird perched on a feeder to which it is chained. Theo Decker first sees it on what is the worst day of his life. In trouble for getting into some adolescent mischief, he and his mother have been summoned to the principal's office. With time to kill before their meeting, they stop at the MoMA to see an exhibition that includes the title artwork. Theo likes the paintings, but is mostly busy paying attention to a lovely red-haired girl about his age, accompanied by a much older man. He's just spotted her again by the gift shop when his mother goes back to take one last look at the art...and then the bomb goes off. When Theo comes to, the old man he'd seen with the pretty redhead directs him to take The Goldfinch off the wall and keep it, and then dies.

Theo returns home, and when he learns of his mother's death, he's taken in by the upper-crust family of a school friend. He also forges a connection with Hobie, the business partner of the old man, who turns out to have been the great-uncle of Pippa, the red-headed girl he finally actually meets. Of course once Theo is finding some stability and solace, his father (who'd left the family and New York quite a while before) suddenly reappears, taking Theo back with him to his new home in Las Vegas. While there, the traumatized Theo meets fellow damaged teen Boris, who introduces him to drugs and alcohol. After another tragedy strikes, Theo takes back off to New York, going to Hobie for support, and eventually growing up to become his new partner in the antique shop he runs. But when a mysterious customer hints that he knows what happened to the long-missing painting, Theo finds himself drawn into a criminal underworld to try to extricate himself from his problem.

Tartt's The Secret History is an all-time favorite of mine. She's an assured and extremely talented writer, which is a good thing because this is a wildly ambitious novel. And she mostly pulls it off! There's a LOT going on here, but Tartt keeps her plot moving while she develops Theo, Boris, and Hobie into rich, deep characters. The references to classic literature, Great Expectations and Crime & Punishment particularly, are heady comparisons to invite but they feel earned, Tartt's writing quality really holds up to the canon. I was engrossed in the story she was telling me pretty much the whole time. And it's not a big thing, but as a transplant to Nevada myself (albeit the northern end), I thought she captured the feeling of the desert outskirts of Las Vegas beautifully, especially the ridiculous space of it when compared to a city as tightly compacted as New York. And I loved the way she wrote about Popper!

As good as it is, there are definitely things that don't quite work here. I thought the main female characters (Pippa and Kitsey) were mostly underwritten and sometimes felt contrived. Despite the occasional references to cell phones/modern technology, the book felt old-fashioned in a way that made those references feel shoehorned and anachronistic. It felt like the two “halves” of the book (Theo's childhood and then adulthood) were unbalanced...I thought some of the former could probably have been edited down to let the latter breathe a little more. And while Theo's issues with drugs were written in a way that made them very understandable, I've never found reading about people taking substances all that interesting and the book's continued engagement with it sometimes lost my attention. But all in all, these are fairly minor quibbles. The book is a very very good one, and I'd recommend it to anyone who doesn't mind a bit of a doorstoper!

I loved it. I didn't expect to because I thought it would be too high-brow arty hipster. But I loved going through the journey of shattering loss, unexpected love and heartbreaking beauty with Theo. I absolutely loved the characters. One of my new favourites (of all time??) was Boris - sheer genius. Two months happily spent in Ms. Tartt's capable hands.

Let me just say that I only took this long to read it due to school and social life getting in the way. However I finally finished this gigantic book and I have a few words to say. Though the book starts out slowly it really builds up the anticipation of what leads to his mother's death. It also creates the bond that Theo has with his mom and it makes the whole thing entirely dependent on that one special relationship. In fact everything was spurred on by that event, ultimately leading to his downfall but his reincarnation as a better version of himself. There is a LOT of details in this book and it may be easy to lose yourself in those little things but bear with it because it truly is wonderfully written. You did it again Donna Tartt.

Could not get through the first couple of chapters. Mostly because: casual racism. The fact that Tartt repeatedly feels the need to keep referring to minor characters using weird vague nondescriptive labels like “small Asian man” and reinforcing cultural stereotypes. Blergh.
The only information “Asian” provides is something regarding appearance - & even then not much. Why? WHY?

Running to almost 900 pages, The Goldfinch is going to require a substantial investment of your time, but I think anyone would be prepared to give Donna Tartt's new novel that much. What you might not realise until it is too late however is the amount of personal investment a book like this demands. By the time you get to the even half-way through the extraordinary 14 year journey that has taken Theo Decker to Amsterdam, the dawning realisation that this has to eventually come to an end suddenly hits you. Drawing out the inevitable isn't possible either as there's not a moment of The Goldfinch that doesn't have you completely in its thrall, reluctant to put it down and feeling bereft at its conclusion.

The Goldfinch is a masterpiece in the classic style of the Bildungsroman. The recounting of Theo Decker's unfolding awareness of the world, its complications, its criminality and injustice, the lack of stability in his life, his sense of being isolated and his ability to love are all affected by one significant event of terrorism in the modern world that skews his view of reality and effectively leaves him an orphan. What follows is a remarkably detailed account that covers every aspect of Theo's life in detail and the storytelling is never anything less than wonderful. It's almost Dickensian in scope and treatment, the book drawing obvious parallels with Great Expectations and even making references and nods to Oliver Twist, but in its own way it is also a thoroughly modern work. It's more than just a character or psychological study, it's more than just a series of escalating incidents that eventually reach crime thriller proportions, but it takes in a whole range of relevant cultural, moral, social and familial circumstances and tries to consider how one can make sense of it all.

What ties it all together and what is the one constant in Theo's turbulent life is the Dutch Master painting of The Goldfinch by Carel Fabritius (1622-1654), which accidentally and completely illegally comes into his possession. The painting is many things to Theo, something that he can't shake off or deny, but rather feels a deep affinity for and a responsibility towards it. It's a reminder of the significant moment when the world lost all sense, but it's also a lifeline that he clings to throughout his difficult and troubled adolescence, serving as a connecting element that provides a sense of continuity, connecting, linking elements that would otherwise seem random twists of fate and chance. This is however so much more than just a clever literary touch, but a vital and meaningful element that gives the book distinction and a sensibility beyond the pure narrative storytelling delights of Donna Tartt's brilliant writing.

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.

✩✩✩✩✩

“All I can really say for sure is that I've never felt the mystery of the future so much: sense of the hourglass running out, fast-running fever of time. Forces unknown, unchosen, unwilled.”

I wasn't planning on giving this book five stars simply because of how long it took me to read it, but as I was thinking about it I realized just how good this book was. There is an insane amount of detail and it was incredibly well written. Despite the length of the book, it was enjoyable and the characters were so thought out that they felt real.

So I am once again thanking Donna Tartt

Só consegui terminar esse livro depois de ver na Wikipedia como termina a história. Não tive nervos suficientes pra lidar com tudo isso.
Se não fosse pela wiki, eu teria dado 2 estrelas. Depois dela, tá mais pra 3.5
O forte desse livro está no estilo de escrita, que é baseada na encheção de linguiça usada de forma metódica e bastante calculada, nos momentos certos pra nós provocar sentimentos diversos.
Se o protagonista (Theo) está nervoso esperando algo, são páginas e mais páginas que descrevem como ele resolveu lavar um terno na banheira sem muito sucesso.
Se theo está apreensivo aguardando algo, são 50 páginas descrevendo com detalhes todo o nada que o theo fez enquanto esperava.
Nós ficamos genuinamente nervosos, preocupados e angustiados com o theo.
Não sei se indico o livro como firma de diversão e entretenimento, mas acho importante ler se você se importa com técnicas de escrita.
________
Edit: horas depois que terminei o livro fiquei ruminando os defeitos, lendo reviews, achando mais defeitos e baixei a nota desse livro.
Sua narrativa arrastada não serve apenas para nós deixar ansiosos, mas também para esconder uns vários furos no enredo.
Durante muitas partes eu conseguia ver o esforço da autora de mostrar para todos que ela era a melhor do mundo. Eu conseguia imaginar o rosto da autora escrevendo, e isso não é bom, né? Quando o livro é bom ele deve ganhar vida própria.

Honestly, I have mixed feelings towards this book. For the first few chapters, I just loved it so much and thought It'll surely end up in my 4-star list if the quality is consistent, even after Theo went to Vegas his experiences with loneliness and guilt feeling about the painting and his mother seems very intriguing even though I hated the side characters like Boris, Theo's father and his father. But after the time skip Theo's lamenting about Pippa was so irritating to read oof, Theo's failures in his personal life and constant listless actions seemed so boring smh. Then Boris's ridiculous prank with The painting put cheery on top of my annoyance, the plot twist seemed so much force. (hide spoiler)]
So my overall rating is 3.75/3.5 ⭐ out of 5

3.5
A very long book that feels like a love letter to art and the preservation of paintings for me. I like how this book puts some focus on the appreciation of their beauty and their beautiful and mostly tragic stories. A good book but a bit of a chore to read since it's really slow-paced and it made me feel anxious and on edge a lot, which I don't mind if it happens once in a while but this book made me feel that way the whole time.

Donna Tartt takes us deep into the life of a boy who suddenly, tragically, loses his mother in an art museum bombing. It's a decisive moment in Theo's life. He is almost alone in the world, with no one who cares for him to assist him. Theo falls and falls and falls, and those who gradually appear in his life—his father, friends—are little help to him.

It's a story of loss and the descent into desperation, much of it grim and dark and horrifying. But it is also, in an odd way, redemptive, with good from bad, which may be the most hopeful of all.

I loved it. Epic. Rambling. Dickensian in scope and happenings. I won't lie, it is a commitment, but an immensely rewarding one, speaking to our modern American Age and yet fully tethered to the past through art.It's a story to savor and get lost in. No rush. The painting lost/stolen is just a frame to hang a bigger story where big questions are posed, along with the mundane, and no answer is given. It's not expected. Along with the sadness, is a funny, almost picaresque tale, brimming with life that spans past and present and over 700 pages I still wanted it to go on. Our narrator, unreliable as the best are, is Theo Decker, a boy who at 13 suffers the unimaginable loss of his mother in a terrorist attack. So starts Theo's journey as an orphan, first in a sublimely rendered NYC, with its local uptown & downtown fauna, and later in the mirage dream of the west via Las Vegas. [a:Donna Tartt 8719 Donna Tartt https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1409871301p2/8719.jpg] has created characters that brim with life and live outside the page: Theo, Boris, Andy, Hobie. I loved them all and surely expect to run into them at any moment. I was lucky enough to also pair this with [a:David Pittu 572486 David Pittu https://s.gr-assets.com/assets/nophoto/user/m_50x66-82093808bca726cb3249a493fbd3bd0f.png]'s masterful audio rendition. Wow.