Thursday, November 7, 2013

Well, Girls, It Is Time To Talk!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

         
                                                  "The snow in the mountains was melting and Bunny
                                                    had been dead for several weeks before we came
                                                    to understand the gravity of our situation.
                                                    ---Donna Tartt, "The Secret History"

                           For those in the know, darlings, and I know there are many, that is the famous opening sentence of Tartt's signature work, her 1992 debut, "The Secret History."  I am using it, in a way, to illustrate what is wrong with her latest, recently published work, "The Goldfinch."  Having now read the Tartt oeuvre, having just finished this epic work, the painful fact must be faced--nothing Donna has written since, or may go on to write in the future, will ever top "The Secret History."

                            Which is not a bad thing for a writer.  Name me one--I admit so freely--who would not  like to have produced one iconic work that will be remembered by readers long after their mortal coil has been shuffled off.  The matter becomes more problematic for the reader, who anticipates an author's newest work with relish, only to be sometimes let down.   And this is the case here.

                              No work has been more touted this year  than the coming of Donna Tartt's latest novel. Now that it is here, and having read it, I can say that while there is nothing intrinsically wrong with it--there are, indeed, some brilliant passages in it--it does not really, in the end, add up to much.

                               The buildup to, and execution of, the terrorist attack in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, which forever changes the course of the hero, Theodore Decker, is one of the best pieces of writing in the novel.   So much so, that, with the holidays approaching, with time drawing near to my annual visit there to see the Christmas tree, it makes me a bit hesitant to go!!!!!!   I can picture so clearly in my head, having been there, what happens to Theo!!!!!!!!

                                 The structure is understandable enough, and so are the characters. Donna is a Dickensian, and while I am, too, and this should be manna for me, it is not.  For the non-Dickensians, let me
catalog who most of the players are.

                                    Theodore Decker--Oliver Twist
                                     His Mother--Clara Copperfield
                                     Boris--The Artful Dodger
                                     Theo's Father--Fagin, or Bill Sikes
                                     Xandra, The Mistress--a less benevolent version of Nancy
                                     Hobie--Little Nell's Grandfather
                                     Mr. Barbour--Mr. Micawber
                                     Mrs. Barbour--Miss Havisham
                                     Kitsey--Estella
                                     Pippa--Little Nell
                                     You may disagree with me on  some of these, but as a Dickensian for over 50 years, I think my observations have some validity.  And I admit--there may be others I have not even thought of.

                                        Dickens is often criticized for his length, but I have never found it a problem, because the language is gorgeous, and the stories and characters are so compelling. Miss Tartt knows more than her share about gorgeous language, but the length of this novel is so unnecessary.  There is too much waste--the whole Las Vegas section could go; like, who gives a shit????--and she just does not seem to know how to end her book, and I was not satisfied with it.  The only thing I discovered, at the end, is that the book is constructed identically to "The Secret History"--it is the retrospective confessions of the narrator, Theodore Decker, just like Tartt's earlier narrator in TSH, Richard Papen.

                                            But the earlier work was brilliant for its brevity of language that, nevertheless packed in  a whole scope of narration .  Here, Tartt overloads with narration. I think she fell into the writer's trap--so in love with what she was writing, so eager to get out all her ideas and concepts, that she overlooked uniformity, as she thought readers would be as enthusiastic as she.

                                              Well, this reader was not. I admired "The Goldfinch" very much. Miss Tartt is still a very fine writer.  But I miss being blown away by her power and her strength, and have made up my mind that is never going to happen again.  Contrary to what some may have been expecting to hear, "The Goldfinch" is not the Book Of The Year. But I can now say what is.

                                                 "Night Film," by Marisha Pessl!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                  Sorry, Donna!!!!!!!!!!!!!
                                                                                       

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