The Goldfinch: A Novel (Pulitzer Prize for Fiction) Audio CD – Unabridged, October 22, 2013

How quickly can the circumstances of one’s life alter? In less than a heartbeat it would seem – or in the brief seconds in which a bomb blast can occur. In her Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, ‘The Goldfinch,’ Donna Tartt examines how transitory are the conditions that govern our lives.Thirteen-year old Theo Decker and his beloved mother seek temporary shelter in New York's Metropolitan Museum during a rainstorm. While inside, a bomb goes off, and Theo’s mother dies in the wreckage. Theo, dazed and possibly suffering from a concussion, lingers at the side of a dying man he’d spotted moments before the blast. The man, Welty, hands Theo an heirloom – a ring – that will ultimately lead Theo to the kindly ‘Hobie.' In his death throes, Welty gestures frantically toward a painting, suggesting to the boy that he wishes him to take it - to save it, one supposes, from being destroyed in the wreckage. The painting is Carel Fabritius’s famous work, ‘The Goldfinch.’ The blast in the museum, the chance meeting of a boy and a dying man, and a 'stolen' masterpiece are the points from which all future events in Theo’s life will stem.Orphaned, grieving, plagued by survivor’s guilt, Theo goes to live with the family of school friend, Andy Barbour. The Barbours, a wealthy, socially prominent family, are peculiar and oddly broken in some ways. Still, the coolly elegant Mrs. Barbour and her emotionally ill husband give Theo a home of sorts in New York’s elegant Upper West Side, but it proves to be temporary. Soon, Theo’s deadbeat dad and his companion, the flashy Xandra, show up to take Theo back home with them for purposes that turn out to be less than honorable. Home is Las Vegas.While in Vegas, Theo is on his own. His father’s neglect of his son is stunningly depicted, and Theo, making friends with a cagey Russian boy named Boris, spirals downward into alcoholism and drug addiction.Eventually, Theo ends up back in New York, this time living with James Hobart, a furniture restorer and the friend and partner of Welty, the dying man Theo had comforted in the museum. Also staying with Hobart from time to time, is Welty’s granddaughter, Pippa, the unattainable redhead who continues to captivate Theo. Now in his twenties, Theo renews his friendship with the Barbours, and begins a shady career of selling restorations as antiques to would-be collectors who have more money than knowledge about what they're buying.This eventually comes back to haunt him – as does the painting he took from the Museum so many years ago, and which, throughout the book, continues to serve as a catalyst for many of the events in Theo’s life. Improbably, Theo meets up again with Boris in New York, learns that Boris took the painting from him without his knowledge, and that The Goldfinch is probably in Amsterdam, in the possession of criminals. The remainder of the book details Theo’s attempt to regain the painting with Boris’s help.Tartt's book has been called Dickensian in its scope, and indeed there are elements that will be familiar to readers of Dickens: the orphaned boy (Theo), the Artful Dodger (Boris), the disparity in economic conditions for the poor and rich, and there is even a hint of Miss Havisham in the elderly Mrs. Barbour. I do read Dickens, and on one key point I find Tartt upends the Dickensian comparison: one would be hard-pressed to find in his works the nihilism that Tartt's book espouses. At the heart of Charles Dickens' stories and novels one can always find goodness in the muck, and hope hiding amidst the cesspools of human greed. Tartt looks at life through Theo's eyes and finds nothing but despair.There is much to like and admire about The Goldfinch.I like a lengthy book (and make no mistake – this is a very lengthy book, almost 800 pages). I eagerly followed Theo’s journey through most of them.Tartt stirringly relates the events that occurred immediately following the blast at the museum - you feel the devastation and confusion, the sense of isolation, the fear. She convincingly depicts a child's grief at the loss of the one parent he could depend upon, the fears he experiences at being caught up in the nightmare of Social Services agencies, and his slow but sure drift toward lawlessness and addiction.And then there were the descriptions of gentle, graceful moments, captured no less vividly than the scenes of horror earlier in the book. She describes the subtle shadings of light gliding across aged patinas and the well-oiled grain of furniture in Hobie’s ‘hospital’ for damaged antiques, the prisms of color filtering through skylights, the delicacy of an artist’s brushstrokes on a canvas. I loved these peaceful descriptions.I also admired the compelling imagery of the desert surrounding the bright lights of Las Vegas. She eerily interpreted Theo's neighborhood as a vast and scorching ghost town, filled with uninhabited houses in the middle of nowhere. Every day in the desert was the same - mind numbing, soul-destroying. The perfect place to self-destruct. And self-destruct is what Theo did.My favorite parts of the book dealt with Theo working alongside Hobie, watching him meticulously mend damaged pieces of fine old furniture, losing himself in the process of trying to make the ruins whole again. How apt that Theo would find some measure of peace in Hobie’s workshop since he, too, was in need of mending. But like the antiques that Hobie sought to restore, Theo would never be entirely whole again. Nor would he be authentic, never again ‘the real deal’ – too much has happened to him. He is the walking wounded.If you’re looking for redemption, you won’t find it in Theo’s journey, which recounts his story from age thirteen to his mid-twenties. With his mother’s death and the ‘theft’ of the painting, his is a downward spiral that never seems to quite reach rock bottom. At book's end, this reader wondered if Theo would one day take his life. Filled with ennui and lack of purpose, still addicted to prescription drugs, one suspects Theo will try again to leave the world behind, in spite of all his high-flown philosophizing at the end of the story. Like his beloved Goldfinch, eternally chained to its perch, Theo is chained to circumstances that were set in motion on that tragic day in the museum. He will forever be defined by those events.If you’re looking for an uplifting story, this is not it. From start to finish, the story is an unhappy one. And yet, I enjoyed it. I never lost interest in Theo's story or his journey, even in the story's most nihilistic moments.My reservations about the novel stem entirely from its ending in which Tartt seems to abandon story-telling and instead wraps the conclusion of the book into some sort of touchy-feely fatalism that never quite rings true. Theo's philosophical rhapsodizing seems somehow false, forced. It is self-indulgent and lacking clarity. It is also boring.Even so, I recommend The Goldfinch – and happily give it 5 stars. Tartt has written a book grand in scope, vivid in imagery, thoughtful, and affecting. If it is not perfect, few things are. It is one of the best books I’ve read in some time, and I won't soon forget Theo's sad odyssey.

I loved Donna Tartt's 'The Goldfinch'. It is a novel I had anticipated reading for a long time, one which I had extremely high expectations for. I expected it to knock my socks off, and it did. From early on in my reading, it was immediately apparent that this was no doubt Tartt's magnum opus, proven by the fact that it garnered her the richly deserved Pulitzer Prize for fiction in 2014.With all that said, I must divide the novel's quality into two unequal parts: every plot development before the character of Boris was introduced is stellar, superb! Every plot development after the character of Boris was introduced and Boris was present for, was the one reason where this excellent novel almost became 4-Stars. The writing alone is 5-stars quality, but I despised Boris so much, he almost spoiled the book for me at certain parts.Tartt's writing is exceptional, and emotions, raw and deep, resonate off every page. From the crisp, rhythmic opening scene in Amsterdam, to Theo's mother illuminating up off the page, my literary senses perked up from page one and were always fully engaged. The story has a breezy yet sophisticated charm to it, with laugh out loud humor intermixed with sobering adult themes. From the precocious observances of a young Theo and Andy, to the jaded but wise adults, - I found laughs aplenty. There is of course plenty seriousness, but Tartt expertly softens it with occasional jest. This dual combination works terrifically, making for a spirited reading experience.Because the story of Theo, the boy who comes in possession of a Dutch Golden Age painting, the titular Goldfinch, is a bildungsroman, it became clear that there were Dickensian motifs peppered throughout the novel. Sometimes it is subtle, other times it is overt, with heavy allusions to 'Oliver Twist' and 'Great Expectations'. At any given time, it felt to me that Theo is a composite of Oliver Twist and Philip Pirrip (Pip), Boris is a composite of the Artful Dodger and Bill Sykes, Hobie is a composite of Mr. Brownlow and Joe Gargery, Mrs. Barbour is Miss Havisham, Pippa is Biddy and sometimes Estella, Kitsey is mostly Estella, and so on. Or at least that's how I interpreted the correlation between Tartt's characterizations and Dickens'. Tartt's use of the Dickensian motif is done well as it felt like a respectful homage, rather than a copy. The effect is never gimmicky or contrived, but is rather seamless.As with many tales by Dickens, Tartt also gives us the bitter along with the sweet in the story of a young boy coming of age and finding meaning to his lfe. I appreciated the complex, angel/devil characterization she gave Theo, with multiple unsavory character traits and dubious actions. Lessons abound where in Theo's coming of age trek through his early life, he becomes a source of frustration for me the reader. The ostensibly bright, once thoughtful, and spirited young Theo detours down a questionable path. This is where the character of Boris comes in, leading me to dislike him immensely. As I read Theo's story, especially as he spiraled into debauchery and delinquency in Las Vegas, I could foretell the inevitable results of his stupid choices, choices mostly instigated by Boris. Unquestionably, fate dealt Theo a tough blow, but he himself makes no effort to go against the grain. He instead allows Boris to influence him. This turns to be a frustrating character development in Theo, but one that is stirring, nonetheless.As we know of all Dickensian tales, Tartt also takes us through Theo's entire journey, ultimately ending at the cusp of his self-awareness, acceptance, and redemption. I must admit, It is hard to root for a drug using, love pining, art swindling rogue with dubious criminal tendencies. But yes, I was rooting for Theo the whole way. The beauty of it all being that for him to come out the other side, he had to discover the dirty parts of himself and the dark aspects of humanity. I thought Tartt did a wonderful job juxtaposing the two dualities. We're all saints and sinners in our own lives.Lastly, unlike other readers, I did not mind the novel's length at all. As a matter of fact, I reveled in it. For me personally, as long as the themes and characterizations are sharp and taut throughout, the longer the better. Other than hating Boris' character, and disliking the delinquent time spent in Las Vegas, one other aspect I would have liked to be different was the tone of Theo's philosophizing towards the end. His waxing poetic was a beautiful act of contrition, and self-awareness. However, it did seem much too profound for someone so young as he. Not necessarily with additional plot, but I wished Tartt had aged him into his 30s or 40s by the book's close when he came to all his personal conclusions. His self actualization of his fate felt more like something someone older would have come to realize, years after living life. Rather than from him at age 27. His philosophizing did work, but coming from someone as young as he, it felt a bit far-fetched. Nonetheless, this section was wonderful to read, as it lovingly fused the importance and meaning of beauty, art, life's split second choices, in all our lives.I enjoyed reading 'The Goldfinch' as it is marvelous and multi-faceted, shining bright in countless ways. Each character in the novel, even Boris that I loathed, imparted a sharp lesson as I read, the plot is rich and lively, the bildungsroman themes are prevalent and effective, the prose is gorgeous and evocative. All this while the beauty and mastery of classical art emanates off each chapter as the story unfolds. I knew some facts about Dutch Golden Age paintings, but in reading this novel, Tartt taught me even more, in a manner that is accessible and applicable. For me, this entire combination makes 'The Goldfinch' an exquisite read: magical in some parts, heart-breaking in others, wholly sublime in full. Highly recommended. 4.5 stars out of 5.

This is an epic novel in every sense of the word. I cannot remember the last time that I could not put a book down, even returning to it in the middle of the night when I should have been sleeping. It is one of those books that drew me in right from the start and I just had to find out what happened to Theo and those around him, even when he sunk to the depths with seemingly no prospect of rising again. The painting, that painting, the events surrounding it and its place in Theo's life are traced effectively throughout the book, almost to the point of just when I had forgotten about it because of other events, Donna Tartt brings it back to the forefront of the narrative. This is not a 'literary' review, it is a genuine response to this novel from a keen and avid reader who first picked up a book to read for pleasure over 50 years or so ago and I am delighted to say that I am still being moved and challenged by the imagination of others and, in the case of The Goldfinch, I am now left wondering what I can possibly read next to take the memory of this rich seam of characters out of my head. What Donna Tartt does so well is to juggle the cast so effectively - some of who we meet only fleetingly, but they all seem to make an impression and are there to drive the narrative forward - that they pivot around the central presence of Theo to provide a highly satisfactory narrative that was, for me, totally engaging. It was hard to read at times, not because of the writing, but because of the unfolding events, but, ultimately, it moved me, angered me, delighted me, made me smile, made me cry and just made me want to be a better human being - be a Hobie, in fact.

My introduction to Donna Tartt was A Secret History - a beautifully crafted novel of friendship and secrets which I devoured in mere hours. I then bought The Little Friend - still haven't finished it. It was as slow and dull as the town it's set in. Maybe that was the point, it's certainly "atmospheric". The Goldfinch falls between the two. Brilliant premise, and the start of the book is gripping. But there were times I couldn't wait to get to the end of the chapter so I could put the book down and take a break from it in the hope that when I started the next chapter the story might pick up again. It's rare I don't finish a book but much of the time I ploughed on through this just to get the pages out of the way rather than reading for pleasure. The main character is flawed and damaged and selfish but that's understandable given his childhood experiences - great characters are always shades of light and dark. And Theo is a great character. Perhaps the issue is that many of the others in comparison are just caricatures - charismatic Eastern European on the wrong side of the law, damaged and vulnerable unattainable love interest, distant disinterested grasping dad. The final rambling chapter that beats you over the head with the books life lessons (just in case you were too dumb to get the message from the story) was pretty patronising. If you like a novel crafted with skill, that has brilliantly drawn characters, is written using words with more than two syllables and drags you into its pages until its final shocking denouement, try We Need to Talk About Kevin by Lionel Shriver instead.

This book lost me at the point a character pushed a button in the lift and, "The gears caught and shuddered; one by one, the pearly old deco numbers blinked past as I creaked up to the seventh floor."To paraphrase Kingsley Amis on his son's writing style, there need to be more sentences like, "They finished their drinks and left the room." In this case, "I took the lift to the seventh floor" would (more than) suffice. This overly writerly prose is just too much for me, and it felt as if the book were being padded for length. So I finish my drink and leave the room.

Brilliantly written book about Theo, who at 13 is forced through tragic circumstances to go and live with the Barbour family in New York.A modern story which starts minutely detailed and vividly seen by the author, so we see it too, the nuances of the Barbour family life, parents and four children, of whom Andy is Theo’s friend, a “white mouse” with a “wan, irritating voice” who has a hilarious line of repartee with his father who is eternally trying to interest his indifferent children in sailing.Other stand-out characters are Hobie who befriends Theo, and Boris, Theo’s wild, unpredictable friend who runs wild with him in Las Vegas. A few sentences and we have them, a real person, fixed, Mr Silver the debt collector, the doormen.If only the book had been a quarter or even a third shorter. After the words “eight years later” things change, as if the author is tired of her creations and gallops through the rest, impossibly convoluted and contrived plot and all the Dickensian/J K Rowling characters we have come to love becoming caricatures, less true and solid. Pippa, always vague, slips away completely, and even Boris’s English, so funny to start with, become cartoon-like.There are themes and metaphors bursting out all over, meandering, fathers and sons, abandonment, the pointlessness or otherwise of life struggles etc etc, and of course acres about ART and the meaning of the painting of the goldfinch, which is, after all, a painting of a bird chained up.

I’ve just finished reading this and feel that I deserve a little round of applause. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy it, or appreciate the beautiful skilled writing, or didn’t find it a page turner at times, but it was very long and wordy. I seemed to read and read and get nowhere! The main character Theo is also the narrator and he describes in stunning detail every thought, deed, meal, weather condition etc. it did make me feel as if I was in the book with him, and this story will definitely stay with me. I didn’t find the characters unlikable - I found them flawed from their traumatic lives, and doing all they could to get by in life. I found the story fascinating, and it helped that the painting was real, and I could go on line and look at it. However, some of the dealings in it were very mixed up and complicated and hard to follow. I also found the ending didn’t really sit with the rest of the story, and seemed a bit implausible. All in all, I would recommend it if you like a good ‘slog’ of a book. I’ve never read Donna Tartt but I may now try more.