I had mixed feelings when I heard that Donna Tartt’s “The Goldfinch” has won the Pulitzer Prize. Although the hardback was suitably heavy, this quick read did not seem to be sufficiently poignant to win big.
Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed this flawed book. It was a page turner and easy to read while sleepy-eyed on my morning commute. The start is explosive, both literally and emotionally, when the protagonist’s mother dies in an explosion in a New York gallery. Inexplicably, this provides an opportune moment for 13 year old Theo to steal a masterpiece. It could be said this is a coming of age book in the most established of traditions, as the effectively orphaned Theo is passed from pillar to post whilst grieving for his mother and increasingly fretting about the picture. There is something empty about the grown up Theo and, in turn, this book that no amount of drug taking/dealing, antique fraud, feigned romance, illegal gambling, violence or, ultimately, the illicit possession of a magnificent stolen painting can fix. Maybe that is the point?
As much as I slowly realised how much I disliked Theo, Donna Tartt did create some excellent supporting characters. Boris: need I say more? You have to read this book to understand. He is initially hard to warm to, but has all of the gumption and zest for life so sadly lacking in our hero. He is the Gatsby to Theo’s Nick. Sadly, my other favourite characters all met uniquely cruel fates: take your pick of (A) drowning, (B) bleeding to death, (C) going insane and (D) being sent to a Swiss school for damaged children.
I was longing for the book to have a smart sudden ending to rectify my misgivings and morally exculpate Theo of his various misdemeanours, but the ending felt predictable, overwritten and slightly flat. Overall, my disappointment in this book probably comes from having high expectations. What did you think?
pistachioplum 