Controversy

Not sure how a book can be both wonderful and in parts almost unreadably awful.  Reactions to Donna Tartt’s acclaimed novel The Goldfinch tend to be strong, even extreme, and mine are no exception. In some ways it’s a very special book indeed; in others it’s very very ordinary. Reviewers have voiced strong opinions on both sides, and then there's that Pulitzer thing.

First of all the novel is a very straightforward first-person account of a very straightforward story. In that way it almost feels like children's literature in approach.  No flashbacks, no literary high-wire acts, no new tricks or envelope pushing here.  It’s long …. really long ... about 800 pages.  The writing is easy to digest.  Nothing difficult there.  The plot is a bit complex but again not overly complicated.  The cast of characters is appropriately limited (not as limited as in Tartt’s A Secret History, where the constant intense focus on a small group of friends feels downright claustrophobic after a while) but also interesting.

The plot concerns a present-day young man and a famous painting (The Goldfinch) by Fabritius, a 17^th-century Dutch painter .  The first 150 pages or so are excellent.  Tartt is very deft at making interesting connections between the present-day plot and the historical paintings that figure in the events.  She clearly has a deep feeling for visual art, and her ability to describe multiple dimensions of meaning that resonate from paintings is very telling.  The art in question comes alive in her prose in surprising and credible ways.  Visual art really matters to her, and she manages to make those feelings come alive for the reader.

The last hundred pages are also excellent.  Each of the major characters gets his moment on stage to summarize his view.  The scene in which Boris comes clean with his take on life is particularly compelling.  In these closing sections again Tartt manages to express many interesting ideas on art and beauty, why we appreciate them, why we need them, and what they mean to each of us.  And there’s the metaphor of restoring especially beautiful antique furniture.  Tartt makes us understand that beauty is worth the effort to maintain it, and that our lives require a constant restorative effort in order to remain in touch with the best that humanity has to offer. The conclusion is very moving indeed.

And then there’s the middle 500 pages or so.  They could have (should have) been edited down to 200.  This part of the book is very cinematic (there WILL be a movie, I’m sure), but doesn’t make for very interesting reading.  For me it was absolute drudgery to plow through it.   Often twenty pages at a time was all I could take.  Yes things happen, but there just is't anything to hold my interest.  Plot, plot, plot.  Characters that aren't especially interesting or credible, writing that was ordinary at best.  I especially found the endless passages describing drug and alcohol abuse to be flat and unconvincing.

The novel draws on many historical antecedents, especially Dickens and Salinger.  The main character is written very much in the spirit of Holden Caulfield, and the sidekick character (Boris) is quirky and interesting in Dickensian ways.  There’s an orphan or two (or three).  There are very bad guys and very good guys.  There’s an antique store that recalls The Old Curiosity Shop.  There’s an important young female character that has the innocence and purity of Nell. 

The book's strengths probably justify the Pulitzer Prize it won this year, but I’m sorry that reading it was such an uneven experience.  It could have been much tighter and more consistently enjoyable.  Perhaps because the experience of a deep appreciation for visual art is rare for me, I was very moved by Tartt’s ability to make that art come alive in ways that really matter in everyday life.  I will not forget what I learned about the depth of that experience for others.  But I was truly disappointed and bored (almost to the point of setting the book aside permanently) with much of the middle.  Well, what’s good is very good; what’s not is really not.