Recently Read: The Goldfinch

I'm going to admit something I'm not proud of... it took me a little over a year to read-through Donna Tartt's The Goldfinch. Before anyone gets too upset, by no means was this due to dislike. I relished in the corrupted world so vividly created between these pages. But this book was heavy. Not only being almost 800 pages, but also so. emotionally. heavy.  But more about that later on. For now, let me dump all of the emotions and the existential crisis this book sparked in me (in the best way!) out onto page, err -- screen. And as always, this review will be spoiler-free-- promise!


First things first, a brief overview of the story-- The Goldfinch tells the plight of young Theo, who loses his mother in a tragic accident that continues to haunt and shape him throughout his life. It follows him as consequences arise from becoming attached (and obsessed) to a piece of artwork-- trailing him all the way to adulthood, where he works in the curious world of antiques. Nothing is without consequences, and fate proves cruel as the past comes back to confront Theo in unavoidable ways.

As the reader-- I pained, begged, Theo not to make some of the choices he does. How badly did I want to reach into the book and shake him, help him from making decisions I knew would cause more pain. That, I believe was the heaviest part of this book, and the reason it took me a considerably long time to read it. I felt helpless. I was prisoner to the events unfolding in the same way Theo is prisoner to this piece of art. The theme of being so fate-tied to an intangible object permeated so deeply that it transformed my relationship with this story. I began to understand the message as I was reading. 

This book was the 2014 Pulitzer Prize fiction winner-- Stephen King reviewed: " 'The Goldfinch’ is a rarity that comes along perhaps half a dozen times per decade, a smartly written literary novel that connects with the heart as well as the mind.” 

However, the book is also highly polarizing- among its acclaim is also heavy criticism . To that I say-- aren't all books this way? Books are a form of art;  pieces speak to some and not others. Two people can enter a gallery: one can be awestruck by a painting and the other walk right by, not giving it a second thought. Opening the pages of a book is the same human experience, after all. Some are hooked after the first page, others need to ruminate a bit, while still there will be some who slam the cover closed to never read another word. The Goldfinch while being an example of this-- is also a story about the experience of art. The connections formed between humankind and their creations. It is self-aware.

The Goldfinch  is ultimately a heart-wrenching voyage into the burden of sentimental attachment to the tangible, especially when the intangible is out of minds' reach. Tartt writes of the ache for the connection to these items the same way as --and in parallel to-- drug addiction. The lines blur between love and obsession, reminding us of the dangers of the risk of overwhelming and consuming passion turned fixation.

The importance of art, the importance we attach to the things in life, all of the stuff that surrounds our everday-- how easily and often these inanimate things become part of the fiber of our being. We recognize them as immortal, pieces of mortal bodies captured in a incorruptible state. Pure creation and a snapshot of time. We attach our own meanings to items- beyond their original intent. We create up creation. Each timing tying ourselves more to these things, reinforcing their integrity to our sense of self.

For what would we be if not for the things we make?