The Goldfinch
by Donna Tartt
Aged thirteen, Theo Decker, son of a devoted mother and a reckless, largely absent father, survives an accident that otherwise tears his life apart. Alone and rudderless in New York, he is taken in by the family of a wealthy friend. He is tormented by an unbearable longing for his mother, and down the years clings to the thing that most reminds him of her: a small, strangely captivating painting that ultimately draws him into the criminal underworld. As he grows up, Theo learns to glide between the drawing rooms of the rich and the dusty antiques store where he works. He is alienated and in love – and his talisman, the painting, places him at the centre of a narrowing, ever more dangerous circle.
The Goldfinch is a haunted odyssey through present-day America and a drama of enthralling power. Combining unforgettably vivid characters and thrilling suspense, it is a beautiful, addictive triumph – a sweeping story of loss and obsession, of survival and self-invention, of the deepest mysteries of love, identity and fate.
With her characteristically powerful storytelling, Donna Tartt’s The Goldfinch is a novel I fell headfirst into, sinking into the words, imagery, and events Tartt so clearly and eloquently brought to life from the very first page. While I knew little in the way of what I could expect from this novel’s plot or storyline, I knew this: the writing would be impeccable.
In reviewing Tartt’s most iconic work, The Secret History, I was purposely vague, giving very little detail of even my own thoughts beyond what could be expressed broadly about specifics. I felt that The Secret History—the characters, the atmosphere, the plot—was best left un-hinted at for readers to discover for themselves. Though I haven’t come away from The Goldfinch with quite the same awed reverence as I did from The Secret History, I cannot help but feel that vagueness is the way to go about discussing Tartt’s novels.
Related: The Secret History Review
Tartt is a master at work within the pages of The Goldfinch. She writes with stunning detail and clarity, conjuring scenes and moments that feel so full of life and emotion, there’s hardly any distance between the reader and the moment itself. Her writing is not the beauty and delight of jewel-like descriptions in wandering, stunning prose. It is specific, haunting detail nailed down to the page and the reader’s mind. The emotions and mental difficulties explored within The Goldfinch are varied and often dark, but Tartt brings them to life and captures them with truly remarkable detail, capturing their essence and weaving it into the narrative with such flawless ease. It’s a fine line between delving into emotions enough to be truly contemplative, thoughtful and self-reflective with real depth without weighing the book down. A fine line, but Tartt walks it well. Her expressions of Theo’s pain, regret, and the complexities of his emotions after so tragic an occurrence are strikingly clear and impactful. We wade through the emotions with him—the raw edge of their startling newness at the young age of 13 to their worry-worn, familiar but aching depths as he’s grown older. Tartt’s characters are fantastically crafted, often not likable in the simplistic, obvious ways we often judge characters by. Hers are characters that can sometimes be hard to justify, but you cannot look away from them. Her books do not boil down to whether you can root for a character or not—it’s so much more complex and realistic. They’re compelling. I’ll reserve my specific opinions about Theo, but he was incredibly well written—complex, contradictory, far from perfect but worth spending time reading about. I have my well-liked secondary characters, as well, but I’ll keep the specifics of their personalities quiet, too. Just know Hobie is certainly at the top of the list.
The Goldfinch is a sprawling tale focused not on a traditional plot, but on the course of Theo Decker’s life in the wake of his mother’s tragic death. This is a long, detailed novel that spends large amounts of time with Theo throughout various stages in his life—it is almost wholly focused on character, with little focus on any actual plot. While compelling and engaging, there were portions of the story that left me wondering when events and the lifestyle hinted at in the synopsis would begin, when the focus I thought the novel would have would finally take form. Far from impatience, it was anticipation I felt building as I moved further and further along in the over 770 pages of this novel. And in some ways, I was disappointed. While following Theo’s life was certainly engaging and entertaining in its own way, it wasn’t in any of the ways I’d anticipated or hoped for. I had expected a full tilt into a certain type of atmosphere and intrigue, a complete immersion in a world of history and art and curiosities that never truly came. It was the only aspect of the novel I found lacking. There was atmosphere and intrigue, it was just not the kind I’d expected or, in some portions of the novel, the kind I necessarily enjoy, though Tartt’s descriptive skill was obvious and impactful on each page. It wasn’t so much a matter of my own expectations before reading the book impacting my enjoyment, it was simply a case of the story unfolding before me being wonderfully written and engaging, but missing the full impact of certain types of atmosphere and intrigue that appeal to my own interests (and had been hinted at by the synopsis and certain elements within the story) that I know would’ve pushed it over the edge. That said, my own desires for the plot and atmosphere didn’t diminish the impact of the story as it was and I was still able to fully appreciate the subtlety with which Tartt wove the threads together, even if I’d hoped for a more direct use of certain elements. Though it’s not exactly fair to compare this novel to The Secret History, as the only other novel of Tartt’s I’ve read, it’s impossible not to. There is something quietly decadent about The Secret History, a richness of atmosphere and dark intrigue that was irresistible. I didn’t expect a similar story within The Goldfinch, but I had hoped for a story of at least the same level of gripping, consuming intrigue and this novel simply did not have that.
The Goldfinch is contemplative, dark, at times hesitantly hopeful, and full of life’s difficulties and curiosities. There is much to be said for the merits of The Goldfinch. As I said, Tartt is very clearly a master at work within this novel. However, I will give this warning: if you do not enjoy novels that truly (and I mean really, really) take their time exploring characters and emotions rather than focusing on plot, or even if you do like those character-based stories but don’t like novels that are sprawling and slow, The Goldfinch may not be for you. It’s understandable why a novel with pacing as slow as The Goldfinch’s may be undesirable for readers, but it didn’t affect my enjoyment very much—though I am willing to say it could’ve been my own haste in finishing the book within a short time that contributed to the fact that I was largely unbothered by the pace.
Slipping into a novel of Tartt’s, I’ve learned, is a fully immersive experience that will take readers unexpected, but brilliant, places. Her writing and ability to craft and express realistic characters and impactful stories is superb. It’s a true pleasure sinking into worlds of her creation and The Goldfinch was no exception.