Before I even begin discussing this book, let me tell you how this happened. See, one of the trickeries of this challenge is that some books fall into multiple categories.* And some of them may not even exist. So, I originally selected this title to check off Pulitzer Prize-winner. The problem with checking out ebooks from the library is that you might not pay attention to the length and end up with a 700+ page novel. Enter, The Goldfinch.
Remember the Seinfeld episode where Elaine talks about how The New Yorker comics are actually not funny, but no one will admit it because they don't want to sound dumb? That's how I felt reading this book. Among other things, Tartt relies heavily on place names around New York City, which mean nothing to someone who has never been. There is also much talk about art history and appreciation that go beyond an average reader's grasp. More importantly, the details are not important to the story and could easily be edited down. Too many pages are wasted saying, "Look how learned I am!"
Ok, that's annoying enough. But what about the story? Well, it's okay. Pretty much everyone dies. The main character, Theo, should be sympathetic since his beloved mother dies early on and he survives the terrorist bomb that kills her. But he's not. He's surrounded by deeply flawed people who put way too much effort into helping him and he does not appreciate it. Still, the arc of the story is interesting and has several twists, but it could be whittled down by a few hundred pages.
For as many pages as Tartt splatters with depictions of drug-induced teenage antics (how many ways can you describe lights?) and benign, insignificant details of daily life, she then skips over 8 years completely. Theo runs away from Las Vegas as a minor and then, blink! is an adult in New York again. Running a business with a longtime friend and seemingly living a normal life minus some PTSD-related dysfunction. Eight years. Gone. Almost no indication of what happens during that time. Since a large portion of the conflict is psychological, this gap is disturbing. It's not an epilogue where we get a glimpse into the future. Oh no. There are still hundreds of pages to read.
Besides being long, I did not find this to be artful writing. It's repetitive. It's incoherent at times. Completely wrong words are used (cramps instead of clamps, for instance). And the foreshadowing is in no way nuanced. One chapter literally ends with "It would be a long time before I saw Boris again." Seriously? Well, sure, at least 8 years because we are blacked-out from that time in Theo's life. But perhaps the reunion would be sweeter if we didn't know it was coming. Same with the gun images in the hotel in Amsterdam. So much attention is drawn to it that the reader can't help but know that people are going to be shot. Soon. It's clumsy and clichéd. Writing a series of connected events is not the same as storytelling. I much prefer a good storyteller.
So, after the story has reached a final resolution, and you're feeling like things turned out pretty well, you are subjected to a couple of chapters of philosophy from the viewpoint of a drug addict. This guy, who has done tons of bad things and still lived a fairly charmed life, concludes that life just basically sucks, but he's okay with that. People have picked up after this guy for decades, and he acts like he's some victim of cosmic injustice. I just don't like him. Here, too, we discover that Theo has kept journals for years that are essentially letters to his mom. That format, to me, would have moved the story along better and really gotten at the anguish that Theo never confronts. That would have been compelling and sympathetic.
Now, the nit-picking. There are things in the story that are just completely unbelievable. Theo, at 13, is worldly enough to break into people's homes and smoke pot, but he doesn't try to pick up a newspaper on the streets of New York City. He walks away from a bombed museum, covered in blood, speaks with a policeman, but is never taken to a doctor and walks home by himself without being noticed. Even with being completely sheltered from the mysterious articles about the bombing and about him specifically, Theo never Googles himself or the attack. He never shows any interest in finding out what happened the day he lost his mom.
After plowing through over 700 pages of rarely-interesting script, I feel disappointed. The Goldfinch is The Telltale Heart with a stroke of Macbeth and The Basketball Diaries thrown in for good measure. I care much more about the supporting characters than the main one. They all seem to be people fighting their own demons, while doing what they can to help the poor, orphan boy. What's interesting is that they do it in such different ways. Boris, the criminal best friend, is loyal to a fault. He pays his debts with interest and really loves Theo. Hobie, the steady father-figure, provides sanctuary, even as Theo self-destructs. And Pippa, the other-Theo, loves him enough to keep her own poison from his well.
Maybe the book is too academic. Or maybe I am too simple a reader. But this one falls short for me. If I needed a novel to take up large amounts of time, this would suffice. Since I have a lot of other things I need to attend too, The Goldfinch is a bit of a waste. Rather than making me feel dull, though, it just makes me glad I'm not among the literary elite who sing its praises.
* The challenge graphic never actually states that you must read 52 different books. At this point, I'm not ready to use the loophole to check multiple boxes for a single title. But I reserve the right to do so later.
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