Author: Donna Tartt
Genre: Fiction, Mystery
Blurb: Under the influence of their charismatic classics professor, a group of clever, eccentric misfits at an elite New England college discover a way of thinking and living that is a world away from the humdrum existence of their contemporaries. But when they go beyond the boundaries of normal morality their lives are changed profoundly and forever, and they discover how hard it can be to truly live and how easy it is to kill.
Me: After years of being too lazy (and definitely thinking I was too indie yikes) and multiple glowing reviews from my friends, I decided to use self-isolation time to read some of Donna Tartt's masterpieces. And oh my good lord. This might be the best literary decision I've made all year. This book sucked me in and crushed me in a way no contemporary book has done in a while. I just couldn't stop reading, couldn't take my mind off the characters and the world.
The Ups: The atmosphere of this book is unbelievable. I think maybe it just hit a little too close to home, but the picture of an East Coast liberal arts college in the middle of the woods, all old brick and libraries and rich, young kids, was so distinct and scarily alluring. The whole premise of the book is that the characters have a dangerous desire for the "aesthetic," and what's amazing is that Tartt creates that same desire in the reader as well. Even though we know we shouldn't romanticize it, there is something about warm late nights studying and snow and classic busts of famous writers that evokes something beautiful.
Tartt makes us feel the same way even about the characters. There are six main students that make up the group at the center of the novel, with Richard, a poorer student from suburban California, as the narrator. They are all in one Greek program that is weirdly cult-ish, and despite all the crazy things they do together, their personalities become so distinct and alive over the course of the book. Even down to their clothes, it's alarming how easy it is to imagine them almost haunting a college campus. When I found out there wasn't a movie yet (and probably won't be?) for this book, I was really surprised because every character seems perfect for a film.
What goes against these fascinating people and beautiful setting, though, and what totally complicates and electrifies the story, is the plot. The murder. We, as the reader, are told what happens fairly early on in the book. But we don't know why, and the thing is, we mostly can't and don't want to understand why. The characters, their studies, their energy- it's all so alluring. We don't want violence to touch them but we can't stop reading.
More than anything, I was so haunted by everything that happened. Each second, it wasn't clear what would happen next (or if anything important would happen at all), and I still can picture the characters so vividly. Part of me wants to see this in film or TV so badly just so I can relive it, but part of me knows it wouldn't live up...
The Downs: I think there are times where the characters or the situation just seems too picturesque and bizarre - times where I was thinking, can they actually get away with this? Would this sort of thing really be overlooked? But the doubt also adds to the story itself; I think the great thing is that in doubting and being confused, you get how ridiculous the whole situation is while also feeling the eerie sense that it could just happen.
Incredible.
Rating: 5 kisses!
"Death is the mother of beauty,” said Henry. “And what is beauty?” “Terror.”
Our shared language is a language of the intricate, the peculiar, the home of pumpkins and ragamuffins and bodkins and beer, the tongue of Ahab and Falstaff and Mrs. Gamp; and while I find it entirely suitable for reflections such as these, it fails me utterly when I attempt to describe in it what I love about Greek, that language innocent of all quirks and cranks; a language obsessed with action, and with the joy of seeing action multiply from action, action marching relentlessly ahead and with yet more actions filing in from either side to fall into neat step at the rear, in a long straight rank of cause and effect toward what will be inevitable, the only possible end.
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