Fair warning that every review has the potential of significant spoilers.
★★★★
I got through this book somewhat quickly. This is a surprise for me, since I am typically a super slow reader. I like to take in each sentence individually, sometimes reading entire paragraphs or pages twice. I want to figure out the author’s style, and think about the story in the historical context of their life. It annoys me that I do this, because I would like to get through more books. So, perhaps this was a page turner.
Tartt designed the book in what I felt was a series of emotional rifts. It drew me in as a mother. It felt as if every other page I wanted to walk into the book and ask them, “WHY?” There was a lot of unbelievable decision-making happening. I am curious as to if people who are not parents felt parental throughout this book. There would be some irony in that. Even some of the most parental characters are making decisions that left me wincing. It was very much a series of unfortunate events. Or, decisions, rather.
There were definitely spots where I was able to speed up my reading. The food descriptions became tiresome. The art-life-beauty-connection descriptions didn’t add much to the plot and for character development, could have been reduced by 50%. Might be great for someone young, who hasn’t participated in many art-appreciation/philosophical/political conversations, but it’s not a self help book and it (seemingly purposefully) contradicts all of the characters epiphanies by his negative behavior and lack of self awareness.
The main character had all of this privilege, and support, and never recognized it. Toward the end he somehow compared himself to an actual starving, dying dog. This made me think about our country’s mental health care stigmas, privilege, and a huge lack of decent mental healthcare access. Tartt speaks a lot to the destiny of the Fabritius painting as if there was some kind of magic involved in tying these people together. This fate was merely a construct of a presumably white character circle, In cities of white indulgence and extreme class barriers―a topic she briefly touched on when writing in the doormen, the state workers, the brief mention of “gays” in a few places, even the counselors at Theo’s school.
I’d be interested in hearing or exploring alternative plotlines. Theo was Black. Theo’s mother was Black. Theo’s mothers family lived on a reservation, and he went there instead of Las Vegas. Boris was Latino. I’m guessing Tartt whitewashed the main characters on purpose. Toward the end, Theo even mentions his extended engagement to Kitsey. This was sort of the nail in the coffin when I decided he’d never really be a likable character-even if there was more to the plot. Perhaps his lack of friend diversity is a symptom of gentrification. But, it speaks more to his inability to feel safe. For the character there were some real reasons he was not capable of developing rich relationships beyond his small circle. This is not unfamiliar in real life, but plenty of people who aren’t engaging in the world outside of their bubble aren’t survivors on the magnitude of Theo’s experiences. So this begs the question, as I asked the characters throughout the book & what I think(or hope) Tartt was pushing for―why? I will leave you with this quote that reminds me of the characters in this story:
“To live fully, we must learn to use things and love people, and not love things and use people.” ― John Powell