A Boy, A Disaster and a Goldfinch

The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I liked the premise of the story behind The Goldfinch, but I think it was a little too long. I ended up skimming much of the last 2/3 of the book, before slowing down again for the last chapter. Do you know how sometimes you just want to know the ending? It was like that for me, but instead of feeling like each chapter was leading up to the anticipation of the ending, I was just feeling like, let's get this part over with already. Additionally, there was a point in the story that I could predict what was going to happen next.

Theo's story is a sad one, losing his mother in a catastrophic accident when he is 12 years old. It is in this moment that his life becomes uncertain, and he carries that uncertainty with him in every circumstance of his life. Along the way he befriends an adult, Hobie, whom he admires, and whom he also disappoints. I love the character of Hobie for the unconditional love that he shows Theo throughout his life. Everyone of us needs a Hobie in our life!

At the center of the story is the painting, The Goldfinch. This is an acutal painting by a Dutch artist, that I at least, had never heard of, Carel Fabritius. Theo's mom loved this painting and her thoughts about the painting are one of the last memories that Theo has of her. I always do enjoy when an author uses pieces of non-fiction in their novels.

The author describes Theo's anxieties throughout the book in a very realistic manner. For me, it sometimes felt like he (Theo) was spending a little too much time feeling sorry for himself. His friendship with another young boy, Boris also takes up a lot of the book. To be frank, this also got a little wearing on me and I ended up skimming a lot of these areas.

I did however, like the way the book ended. I do agree, that art, whether it be novel, poetry, music, artwork, whatever, does speak to each of us individually and in different ways. I like how the author described it:

"That's not the reason anyone loves a piece of art. It's a secret whisper from an alleyway. Psst, you. Hey kid. Yes you.. . . yours, yours, yours, I was painted for you."

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