#anyways i LOVE donna tartt and the goldfinch - but criticizing the things we love is an important part of loving them! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mandarinastronaut · 6 years

Text

Homoromantic subtext in ‘The Goldfinch’

The Goldfinch is a novel written by Donna Tartt, published in 2013. It follows the characters Theodore Decker and Boris Pavlikovsky. The relationship between the two is a bit controversial. Literary critics have completely ignored the implications of a romance.

Let’s start with Theo’s toxic masculinity and internalized homophobia. Since the Tumblr user @borispav has already made an excellent analysis regarding the subject, I’m going to quote them.

”…Internalized homophobia is a fear and aversion toward homosexuality that is felt by a member of said sexuality. It’s an inclination toward projection, a way of securing confidence and self-image (two things which are threatened both systematically and socially) by registering one’s own sexual identity as a flaw in other people.

Toxic masculinity (or hegemonic masculinity) is a series of behaviors and traits found in men who have been molded by the ideologies of patriarchy. This mode of thinking presents a set of standards and conventions which men are expected to both adhere to and promote interpersonally.

When it comes to men, the ultimate goal—in both these cases— is to embody the widely advertised image of what is considered to be a ‘normal’ or ‘average’ man. This man is able-bodied and strong (both physically and mentally). This man fulfills the roles expected of his gender. He is ‘masculine’ in that he does not cry nor outwardly express any emotions outside of anger and lust. As a child he is sociable and sporty. He has many friends and does not struggle with fitting in. As a teen he is rowdy and full of life, armed to the teeth with a ‘healthy’ sex drive; the ultimate manifestation of the phrase “boys will be boys”. As an adult he is married and financially stable. He is on his way to achieving the American Dream: a white picket fence, 2.5 kids, and a wife that he feels responsible for protecting. He is straight and always has been.”

”Naturally interwoven amongst the pillars of toxic masculinity sits homophobia and its internalized counterpart. Heterosexuality, after all, is a core part of being a ‘normal’ male. Any other errant attraction is therefore meant to be deftly identified and expunged.

Given the sexual nature several of Theo’s fears toward masculinity take on, I believe it is more than safe to assume that he struggles with accepting and acknowledging his own sexuality (whether it be bisexuality or homosexuality, I don’t have a definite stance) as it is at odds with what has been presented as ‘normal’ male behavior.

Sexuality very nearly serves as an antagonist in this novel. It’s depicted as an emotionally draining entity, a wildness, a physical allure, tangible threat, and elusive dream. Theo is almost always at war with it—a sort of subplot to the story that mainly reveals itself in behavior and attitude, rather than direct dialogue or thought.

Sometimes the terror Theo harbors toward homosexuality (and, at its core, his own sexuality) is visceral enough to manifest itself as a palpable real-life danger. For example, aside from being verbally and emotionally abused by kids at school, Theo is also able to recall an instance where several boys held him down and attempted to sodomize him with a stick of deodorant (615). This memory, like the other, is mentioned in a passing, blasé, way. However, the fact that Theo remembers it at all as an adult—and in enough detail to recall the exact names of his aggressors— speaks to the experience’s traumatic weight.

In a similar vein, we have Theo’s negative re-entry into New York: the two different adult men who were implied child molesters (who cornered Theo and physically chased him down the street) serving as more literal manifestations of his own homophobia (404-409). This is the fear, and false pretense, that gay men are ‘perverts’ or ‘child molesters’ brought to life. It’s Theo’s repressed sexuality taunting and confronting him in a brutal, nightmarish, form; an expected effect of having been taught that a part of his identity is inherently ‘bad’ and unremovable.

This, and the bullying incident, are two prime examples of a fairly common literary technique used in which a character’s strongest fears or desires are made physical, rather than just emotional. Such a device works to symbolize/convey their fervency, demonstrate just how pressing and real they are to the afflicted character.”

A few examples of Theo’s internalized homophobia:

He can’t tell his doormen he’s going to miss them, because he thinks it would sound ”gay”. (238)

He feels uncomfortable in the cab because the driver saw Boris kissing him. (396)

He’s embarrassed to be seen with Popper because the breed is seen as ”feminine ” or “gay”. (402)

He’s distraught when Boris asks if he’s Hobie’s partner. (615)

“As for the internalized homophobia, it’s as ever-present as ever in his adulthood. In fact, I think it actually might even be morepronounced and focused than it was in his youth, when his fears primarily manifested themselves in vague and ambiguous ways. As an adult, his aversion is blunt and easy to identify. He graduates from steering clear of things that might insinuate homosexuality, to steering clear of gay men almost altogether. He’s able to acknowledge that they tend to make him uncomfortable, but in terms of trying to understand or mediate on why this is so, little is done. Instead he deems it suffice to drop in a few cursory sentences here and there whilst on the subject of something else, leaving it at that. No bigger picture is addressed, and no critical issue is implied.

For example, what we get are brief and loaded anecdotes like the following:

“I’d inherited my mother’s light-colored eyes, which short of sunglasses at gallery openings made it pretty much impossible to hide pinned pupils—not that anybody in Hobie’s crowd seemed to notice, except (sometimes) a few of the younger, more with-it gay guys— ‘You’re a bad boy,’ the bodybuilder boyfriend of a client had whispered into my ear at a formal dinner, freaking me out thoroughly. And I dreaded going up to the Accounts department at one of the auction houses because one of the guys there—older, British, an addict himself—was always hitting on me.” (472)

The sheer weariness and disdain with which he views threats to his heterosexuality is palpable here. There’s something almost sinister and deceptive about the way he chooses to portray these scenarios, something nightmarish in the way both men seem to be implicitly taunting him, confronting or incriminating him with the knowledge of a secret he pretends not to know. Both cases are clearly sources of great distress to him, as he feels the need to bring them up in context of something that didn’t exactly need the reference. It’s all fine and good that he mentions the "younger gay guys” noticing his pinned pupils, since the topic of thought was drugs, but then to go off and suddenly engage in the quotation of very specific dialogue (“you’re a bad boy”), and the discussion of very specific fears (being hit on by a guy), suggests that there is some deeper trauma demanding acknowledgment at the root. Theo is bothered by this. He is tormented by this. He uses the word dread (dread!!) to try and convey just how much he does not want to be in the same vicinity as someone who may act upon the assumption that he’s gay. (He wants us to assume that’s only because he’s confidently straight and doesn’t want the attention, but we know, in truth, that it’s because he’s both afraid and enraged at someone knowing and confronting him with such an unbidden part of himself).

Either way, it’s clear that he’s aware of the irrational severity of these fears, otherwise he wouldn’t have brought them up of his own volition or chosen to detail the day-to-day effects of their disproportionally crippling nature (i.e. him now despairing a certain department of his work environment). So yes, at some subconscious level, he knows that this isn’t normal, that he is stunted, emotionally, in some way. However, as I said before, he doesn’t ever think about why this is. He doesn’t try to find the problem, or even allude to there possibly being some small discrepancy in the way he’s always perceived his sexual identity. His aversion toward gay men simply remains a ‘mystery issue’, something of obvious weight that Theo wants us to feel, but not know. (Though, we know what it is anyway.)

And as if all this wasn’t obvious enough, we also get the very particular way in which Boris is framed in reference to Kitsey. He reenters Theo’s life right as Theo’s in a crisis over her, the engagement, and the fact that he’s not in love. And I mean this literally; Theo runs into Boris at St. Marks because he’d been on a walk in efforts to find ease of mind, a refuge from the daunting prospect of upcoming marriage (525). What he does find is Boris. Boris, who then, briefly, assumes the role of a hero— the knight in shining armor who’s come to sweep Theo up and away from the worldly snares of expectation and social-rule. This image is only further enforced when Boris comes billowing into his life again at the engagement party, graciously saving him from what (to Theo) was a downright nightmarish scenario. “Let’s get out of here,” is what Boris implores of him, leading them both to the door excitedly (635). Theo’s immediate response is to recognize that this is what he’s been unknowingly hoping this entire time, that Boris’ plea to run away from the engagement party with him is the “only thing that has made sense” to him all night (635). This is the ever-warring sides of illusion and reality at direct confrontation with each other. Choosing to stay at the party would imply that he has an unwavering loyalty to Kitsey (as in to heterosexuality/convention), while choosing to leave would imply that there are other, more genuine, desires drawing him away to something else at heart (his love for Boris, his lust for that wild edge; life without restraint and rule).

Theo chooses to leave. Or, I should probably say, he has no choice but to leave. When given such an enchanting window of escape, at such a precise moment of emotional distress and internal turmoil, it is impossible to resist. Of course his instinct would be to leave with Boris, even without knowing the details of their destination or circumstance. There’s an innate trust and draw that has been built up inside him from their Vegas years; Boris knows the deepest parts of Theo inside and out, and there are little to no other people in his life that he is tied to like that, little to no people that would provide the same type of relief from social-performance and self-deception as Boris would. On instinct (on instinct) Theo is true to himself for once. He physically runs after the thing he prefers, the thing it is that he actually wants. However, I do emphasize ‘on instinct’ because this is certainly more of a one-time, impulsive, occurrence than it is anything else. In the end it’s still Kitsey who Theo deems worthy of a suicide-note, not Boris. It’s still Kitsey who, despite everything, he continues to remain on the fence about all the way through the end of the novel. So, yes, it’s evident that the instinct (to be honest with himself, to go after what he wants etc.) is there, that—even after all these years—it still remains strong enough to be acknowledged and acted upon. However, the pressures of compulsive heterosexuality and toxic masculinity have not lessened their grip either, and, in the end, they are the ones that win.”

(all of this was from the amazing @borispav ‘s blog, thank you for letting me quote you!)

The story is told in retrospect and therefore is completely dependent on memory. Well memory, as we all know, isn’t very reliable. You forget, remember something incorrectly, manipulate and so forth. It is also sort of implied that Theo’s been using all sorts of substances, from hard drugs to alcohol. On the pages 622-623 we find out that Theo’s a ‘black-out’ drunk (he passes out and forgets things). Boris brings up the painting which baffles Theo since he himself has shown it to Boris but completely forgotten about it. Just the fact that he’s forgotten something so insanely important and significant, makes it more than possible that there are other important things he’s forgotten about. Theo tells us that he’s written the book for his mother, and in the hopes that Pippa would read it one day. This makes him quite biased and sets up an agenda for him, therefore implying that he’s willing to manipulate the story to fit his purposes. And because he’s trying to convince everyone (mostly himself, but also the reader) that he’s in love with Pippa, it wouldn’t make much sense for him to write about the true feelings he has for Boris. Though it’s very clear that he doesn’t actually love her. He even says this on page 570;

”Worse: my love for Pippa was muddied-up below the waterline with my mother, with my mother’s death, with losing my mother and not being able to get her back. All that blind, infantile hunger to save and be saved, to repeat the past and make it different, had somehow attached itself, ravenously, to her. There was an instability in it, a sickness. I was seeing things that weren’t there. I was only one step away from some trailer park loner stalking a girl he’d spotted in the mall. For the truth of it was: Pippa and I saw each other maybe twice a year; we e-mailed and texted, though with no great regularity; when she was in town we loaned each other books and went to the movies; we were friends; nothing more. My hopes for a relationship with her where wholly unreal, whereas my ongoing misery, and frustration, were an all-too-horrible reality. Was groundless, hopeless, unrequited obsession any way to waste the rest of my life?”

Even if you were to interpret it differently (Theo actually being in love with her, or at least being sexually attracted to her) it still doesn’t overrule Theo’s love for Boris (Theo could be bi-, pan-, or polysexual etc.).

Now when talking about Boris’ internalized homophobia, it’s not as severe as Theo’s. He’s a lot more accepting and openminded. On page 314. Boris brings up homosexuality;

”…Old poofter?” he asked. I was taken aback. ”No,” I said swiftly, and then; ”I don’t know.” ”Doesn’t matter,” said Boris, offering me the jar. ”I’ve known some sweet olf poofters.” ”I don’t think he is,” I said uncertainly. Boris shrugged. ”Who cares? if he is good to you? None of us ever find enough kindness in the world, do we?“

It’s very clear that by bringing up homosexuality casually like this, he wants to hear how Theo feels about it. This dialogue also tells us that Boris is a lot more accepting than Theo, who’s shocked and troubled by the idea of Hobie being gay.

Boris doesn’t have trouble expressing his feelings, he often even exaggerates them.

Boris says he’s in love with Kotku even though he doesn’t know her (326)

Boris says that he ”loves” Kotku and that she’s ”the truestthing that has ever happened” to him (328).

Boris says that the 'fight’ he and Kotku had, was ”only out of love”, and that they realized ”how much they loved each other” (360).

Boris tells Theo how he and KT became ”so close” in one night, and how they ”opened up their hearts” for each other (602).

Boris says that Bobo was like a father to him (613).

Boris is telling Theo about his tattoo, and says this; ”…This is for Katya, love of my life. I loved her more than any woman I ever knew.” To which Theo responds with; ”You say that about everybody.” Theo’s comment proves that this is something Boris does all the time.

But with Theo, he can express himself only through action, rather than words. It’s important to bear this in mind whenever interpreting his actions.

Quoting the Tumblr user @queer-deckovskij ;

”…Part II of The Goldfinch Book contains the chapters Badr al-Dine and Wind, Sand and Stars, in which Boris and Theo meet, go on adventures, live a pair of year together, fight, love each other, then say goodbye. These 200 pages are introduced by a quote Donna put right before chapter 5, that comes from the poet Arthur Rimbaud and says,

When we are very strong, - who draws back? very gay*, - who cares for ridicule? When we are very bad, - what would they do with us?

So where do I start? This quote accurately depicts Boris’ and Theo’s friendship in a way that takes my breath away. It contains all the force and stubbornness and courage of the angry youth they represent. She couldn’t have picked a better quote to represent them. But that’s not all. The small poem doesn’t end here - Donna cut the second part of it, which says,

Deck yourself, dance, laugh. I could never throw Love out of the window.

Yes, the poem used to represent Theo and Boris’ relationship is a love poem. I think it’s really important the notion of who Arthur Rimbaud was. He lived in France during the 19th century and while still very young he had a homosexual affair with another poet, named Paul Verlaine; they ran off together and for quite some time they shared a really unhealthy and irregular life, mostly based on drugs and alcohol and dangerous experiences. Les Poètes maudits, yes? They lived in the same house for a few years and ended up splitting up in quite a violent way (Verlaine shot Rimbaud twice). Does this experience remind you of someone? A couple of guys who drank beer and did drugs like it was a packet of chips and a bottle of pepsi? Inserting that quote, Donna Tartt literally compared Theo and Boris to Rimbaud and Verlaine. Which means that, officially, Theo and Boris’s love was not a platonic one.

*I do not know if Donna inserted this translation or a more neutral one, like cheerful or jolly; the original French poem uses the word gai, which literal translates as gay.”

When Boris starts dating Kotku, Theo is forced to think about what his and Boris’ relationship was for the first time. Though, it’s already been implied earlier that Theo might have a crush on Boris.

Subtext of Theo’s attraction toward Boris;

He’s staring at Boris’ stomach (272).

He’s staring at Boris’ neck (284).

He’s staring at Boris who’s wearing nothing but Theo’s underwear (307).

He’s staring at Boris’ shirtless chest (308).

He’s staring at Boris’ lower abdomen (383).

Theo is jealous of Kotku, he’s even depicted as a pissed ‘house-wife’.

Page 327; ”…But what did bother me -a lot- was how Kotku (I’ll continue to call her by the name Boris gave her, since I can’t now remember her real name) had stepped in overnight and virtually assumed ownership of Boris. First he was busy on Friday night. Then it was the whole weekend–not just the night, but the day too. Pretty soon, it was Kotku this and Kotku that, and the next thing I knew, Popper and I were eating dinner and watching movies by ourselves.”

(Theo’s been depicted as a ‘house-wife’ before on page 277.)

Even though he’s feeling jealous and left behind, he still tries to convince himself and the reader that their relationship was nothing but platonic, that he doesn’t really care whether Boris has a girlfriend or not. Still, it isn’t so simple. He can’t find a right word to describe their relationship.

”…But who cared what crappy girl Boris liked? Weren’t we still friends? Best friends? Brothers practically? Then again: there was not exactly a word for Boris and me. Until Kotku came along, I had never thought too much about it.” (333)

If their relationship was really platonic, Boris having a girlfriend wouldn’t affect their “friendship” or “brotherhood” in the slightest.

Theo’s projecting into Boris because of his internalized homophobia. We find out that Theo doesn’t mind Boris showing physical affection, and that he even enjoys it (it’s the only thing that calms him down from his nightly terrors). This is something that he doesn’t want to admit. He’s constantly trying to convince the reader that there aren’t any stronger, possibly romantic, feelings attached. It’s actually quite comedic.

”The funny thing: I’d worried, if anything, that Boris was the one who was a little too affectionate, if affectionate is the right word. The first time he’d turned in bed and draped an arm over my waist, I lay there half-asleep for a moment, not knowing what to do: staring at my old socks on the floor, empty beer bottles, my paperbacked copy of The Red Badge of Courage. At last–embarrassed–I faked a yawn and tried to roll away, but instead he sighed and pulled me closer, with a sleepy, snuggling motion. Shh, Potter, he whispered, into the back of my neck. Is only me. It was weird. Was it weird? It was; and it wasn’t. I’d fallen back to sleep shortly after, lulled by his bitter, beery unwashed smell and his breath easy in my ear. I was aware I couldn’t explain it without making it sound like more than it was. On nights when I woke strangled with fear there he was, catching me when I started up terrified from the bed, pulling me back in the covers beside him, muttering in nonsense Polish, his voice throaty and strange with sleep. We’d drowse off in each other’s arms, listening to music from my iPod (Thelonious Monk, The Velvet Underground, music my mother had liked) and sometimes wake clutching each other like castaways or much younger children.” (335)

In the end, we finally find out that they’ve even been sexually intimate. Since this is something they’ve done regularly, it’s more than safe to say that they’re at least sexually attracted to each other. Still, Theo keeps projecting into Boris, saying that he’s the one ”who might have the wrong idea”.

“…And yet (this was the murky part, this was what bothered me) there had also been other, way more confusing and fucked-up nights, grappling around half-dressed, weak light from the bathroom and everything haloed and unstable without my glasses: hands on each other, rough and fast, kicked-over beers foaming on the carpet–fun and not that big of a deal when it as actually happening, more than worth it for the sharp gasp when my eyes rolled back and I forgot about everything; but when we woke the next morning stomach-down and groaning on opposite sides of the bed it receded into an incoherence of backlit flickers, choppy and poorly lit like some experimental film, theunfamiliar twist of Boris’s features fading from memory already and none of it with any more bearing on our actual lives than a dream. We never spoke of it; it wasn’t quite real; getting ready for school we threw shoes, splashed water at each other, chewed aspirin for our hangovers, laughed and joked around all the way to the bus stop. I knew people would think the wrong thing if they knew, I didn’t want anyone to find out and I knew Boris didn’t either, but all the same he seemed so completely untroubled by it that I was sure it was just a laugh, nothing to take too seriously or get worked up about. And yet, more than once, I had wondered if I should step up my nerve and say something: draw some kind of line, make things clear, just to make absolutely sure he didn’t have the wrong idea. But the moment had never come. Now there was no point in speaking up and being awkward about the whole thing, though I scarcely took comfort in the fact.” (335-336)

Boris feels troubled because his and Theo’s relationship has become so intimate. He’s not sure if Theo feels the same way about him, and that creates a lot of stress and confusion for him. He makes a subconscious decision to resolve the situation by jumping into an impulsive relationship with Kotku (there aren’t any strong feelings attached). The relationship is completely physical, (they’re sexually attracted to each other, that’s it) even though Boris tries to convince Theo it isn’t so. Soon after they start dating, they begin to argue like an old married couple. It even goes so far that Boris punches Kotku (in the face).

Then Theo’s dad dies, and Theo has to leave Vegas in order to avoid his worst nightmare; social workers. Tartt depicts the 'goodbye’ scene quite dramatically, starting it with Boris humming a song by The Velvet Underground called After Hours. The song is about, you guessed it, unwilling goodbyes, love etc. By inserting this song to the very start, Tartt creates the perfect atmosphere for the whole scene, implying that there are strong romantic feelings between the two. They’ve listened to the song together, and so, Boris tries to manipulate Theo into staying by humming it.

”…Boris, I realized, was looking up at the sky and humming to himself, a line from one of my mother’s Velvet Underground songs: but if you close the door… the night could last forever…” (392)

The certainty of the situation starts to sink in on Theo, and he starts expressing his true feelings for the first and last time in the novel, in fact, he’s lost all control over himself. Boris realizes that Theo’s expressing his real feelings (probably predicting a confession) and since Boris has stolen the painting (something Theo’s completely unaware of) he’s accepted that he’s completely ruined any chances of continuing the relationship, (knowing that Theo would hate him after finding out) and just can’t bear to hear any more of what Theo’s saying. So, he interrupts Theo by kissing him on the lips. Now, besides the suggestive placement of the kiss, (not only is it in the goodbye scene but its right before Theo’s confession as well) the way Theo reacts to it makes it very clear that this is unusual behavior, and not something Boris has done before, (Theo wouldn’t have missed a chance to make the whole situation seem as platonic as possible, he would have tried to pull some bullshit like ”oh yeah this is something Boris does all the time lmao doesn’t mean anything”. And they know each other so well that they can communicate without words, so I think it’s safe to say that Theo would’ve known about it if it was usual behavior for Boris.) the kiss is clearly more than platonic, to say the least.

”…Really, you have to come. We can go to Brighton Beach—that’s where all the Russians hang out. Well, I’ve never been there. But the train goes there—it’s the last stop on the line. There’s a big Russian community, restaurants with smoked fish and sturgeon roe. My mother and I always talked about going out there to eat one day, this jeweler she worked with told her all the good places to go, but we never did. It’s supposed to be great. Also, I mean—I have money for school—you can go to my school. No—you totally can. I have a scholarship. Well, I did. But the guy said as long as the money in my fund was used for education—it could be anybody’s education. Not just mine. There’s more than enough for the both of us. Though, I mean, public school, the public schools are good in New York, I know people there, public school’s fine with me.” I was still babbling when Boris said: “Potter.” Before I could answer him he put both hands on my face and kissed me on the mouth. And while I stood blinking—it was over almost before I knew what had happened—he picked up Popper under the forelegs and kissed him too, in midair, smack on the tip of his nose. Then he handed him to me. ”Your car’s over there,” he said, giving him one last ruffle on the head. And—sure enough—when I turned, a town car was creeping up the other side of the street, surveying the addresses. We stood looking at each other—me breathing hard, completely stunned. ”Good luck,” said Boris. ”I won’t forget you.” then he patted Popper on the head. ”Bye, Popchyk. Look after him, will you?” he said to me.” (394-395)

When Theo gets in the cab, he acknowledges his feelings for Boris and confesses his love for him. This is the first and last time he does this (at least according to Theo’s narrative, which as we know, isn’t very reliable).

”Later—in the cab, and afterward—I would replay that moment, and marvel that I’d waved and walked away quite so casually. Why hadn’t I grabbed his arm and begged him one last time to get in the car, come on, fuck it Boris, just like skipping school, we’ll be eating breakfast over cornfields when the sun comes up? I knew him well enough to know that if you asked him the right way, at the right moment, he would do almost anything; and in the very act of turning away I knew he would have run after me and hopped in the car laughing if I’d asked one last time. But I didn’t. And, in truth, it was maybe better that I didn’t—I say that now, though it was something I regretted bitterly for a while. More than anything I was relieved that in my unfamiliar babbling-and-wanting-to-talk state I’d stopped myself from blurting the thing on the edge of my tongue, the thing I’d never said, even though it was something we both knew well enough without me saying it out loud to him in the street—which was, of course, I love you.” (395)

When they run into each other as adults, Theo starts commenting on Boris’ appearance almost immediately. This isn’t something Theo’s done before, his internalized homophobia won’t allow him to. Boris is the only male he depicts this way.

”…There he was, sliding in across from me, slingin the hair from his face in a gesture that brought the past ringing back. “I was just about to leave.” “Sorry.” Same dirty, charming smile. “Had something to do. Didn’t Myriam explain?” “No she didn’t.” “Well. Is not like I work in accounting office. Look,” He said leaning forward, palms on the table, “don’t be mad! Was not expecting to run into you! I came as quick as I could! Ran, practically!” He reached across with cupped hands and slapped me gently on the cheek. “My God! Such a long time it is! Glad to see you! You’re not glad to see me too?” He’d grown up to be good-looking. Even at his gawkiest and most pinched he’d always had a likable shrewdness about him, lively eyes and quick intelligence, but he’d lost that half-starved rawness and everything else had come together the right way.” (596)

Then we find out that Boris has been embittered this whole time because he ruined his and Theo’s relationship (Thinking that Theo holds a grudge for him because of the painting). So, Boris projects onto Theo. He brings up their sexual intimacy, and offends him;

”…why do I feel like you’re trying to change the subject?” ”Not trying to judge! It’s just—we did crazy things back then. Things I think maybe you don’t remember. No, no!” he said quickly, shaking his head, when he saw the look on my face. ”Not that. Although I will say, you are the only boy I have ever been in bed with!” My laugh spluttered out angrily, as if I’d coughed or choked on something. ”With that—” Boris leaned back disdainfully in his chair, pinched his nostrils shut—”pfah. I think it happens at that age sometimes. We were young, and needed girls. I think maybe you thought it was something else. But, no, wait” he said quickly, his expression changing—I’d scraped back my chair to go— ”wait,” he said again, catching my sleeve, “don’t, please, listen to what I’m trying to tell you, you don’t at all remember the night when we were watching Dr. No?” I was getting my coat from the back of my chair…” (622)

Theo is clearly hurt by Boris’ words, even though he doesn’t admit it.

As if all of this wasn’t already obvious enough, Tartt’s sprinkled all sorts of subtext all over the novel;

Theo takes extraordinary notice of the sex books his therapist has. Tartt is already, this early into the book, implying that sexuality might be a theme for Theo. (162)

During Theo’s and Boris’ first conversation, Theo asks Boris to say something in one of the multiple languages Boris speaks and he decides to say something quite suggestive, which is; ”fuck you up the ass”. (265)

Theo’s internalized homophobia is taunting him, he says he feels ”shameful”, ”worthless”, ”tainted” and ”wrong”, and that he doesn’t know the origin for these emotions. (440-441)

Theo thinks about Boris every day and everything reminds him of Boris. (465)

Theo still remembers Boris’ home phone number in Vegas and even uses the last digits of it for the combination padlock that’s securing the painting. (532)

Theo confesses that he has googled Boris in the past. (595)

”You know what I did in college?” I was telling him. ”I took Conversational Russian for a year. Totally because of you. I did really shitty in it, actually. Never got good enough to read it, you know, sit down with Eugene Onegin—you have to read it in Russian, they say, it doesn’t come through in translation. But—I thought of you so much! I used to remember little things you’d say—all sorts of things came back to me—oh, wow, listen, they’re playing 'Comfy in Nautica,’ do you remember that? Panda Bear! I totally forgot that album. Anyway. I wrote a term paper on The Idiot for my Russian Literature class—Russian Literature in translation—I mean, the whole time I was reading it I thought about you, up in my bedroom smoking my dad’s cigarettes. It was so much easier to keep track of the names if I imagined you saying them in my head … actually, it was like I heard the whole book in your voice! Back in Vegas you were reading The Idiot for like six months, remember? In Russian. For a long time it was all you did. Remember how for a long time you couldn’t go downstairs because of Xandra, I had to bring you food, it was like Anne Frank? Anyway, I read it in English, The Idiot, but I wanted to get there too, to that point, you know, where my Russian was good enough. But I never did.” (614-615)

Theo depicts Pippa by referring to Boris. (678)

Tartt has placed a character from one of her earlier novels The secret history, Francis Abernathy, a homosexual man who was forced by circumstance to marry a woman, in Theo’s engagement party as a parallel for him. (710)

”Only what is that thing? Why am I the way I am? Why do I care about all the wrong things, and nothing at all for the right ones? Or, to tip it another way: how can I see so clearly that everything I love or care about is illusion, and yet—for me, anyway—all that’s worth living for lies in that charm? A great sorrow, and one I am only beginning to understand: we don’t get to choose our own hearts. We can’t make ourselves want what’s good for us or what’s good for other people. We don’t get to choose the people we are. Because—isn’t it drilled into us constantly, from childhood on, an unquestioned platitude in the culture—? From Willian Blake to Lady Gaga, from Rousseau to Rumi to Tosca to Mister Rogers, it’s a curiously uniform message, accepted from high to low: when in doubt, what to do? How do we know what’s right for us? Every shrink every career counselor, every Disney princess knows the answer: ”Be yourself.” ”Follow your heart.” Only here’s what I really, really want someone to explain to me. What if one happens to be possessed of a heart that can’t be trusted—? What if the heart, for its own unfathomable reasons, leads one willfully and in a cloud of unspeakable radiance away from health, domesticity, civic responsibility and strong social connections and all the blandly-held common virtues and instead straight toward the bonfire, is it better to turn away? Stop your ears with wax? Ignore all the perverse glory your heart is screaming at you? Set yourself on the course that will lead you dutifully towards the norm, reasonable hours and regular medical check-ups, stable relationships and steady career advancement, the New York Times and brunch on Sunday, all with the promise of being somehow a better person? Or—like Boris—is it better to throw yourself head first and laughing into the holy rage calling your name? It’s not about outward appearances but inward significance. A grandeur in the world, but not of the world, a grandeur that the world doesn’t understand. That first glimpse of pure otherness, in whose presence you bloom out and out and out. A self one does not want. A heart one cannot help.” (852-853). Since the main themes of the novel are authenticity and unauthenticity (good and bad, right and wrong) it makes perfect sense to have sexuality be a subtheme.

Love restricts one’s personal life. Committing to something so uncertain and scary, as serious romantic relationships are, is impossible for Boris due to his traumatic childhood. This (aside from thinking he’s ruined their relatonship) is the reason why he’s stayed out of Theo’s life for all these years.

”…Boris laughed. “And you love her, yes. But not too much.” “Why do you say that?” “Because you are not mad, or wild, or grieving! You are not roaring out to choke her with your own bare hands! Which means your soul is not too mixed up with hers. And that is good. Here is my experience. Stay away from the ones you love too much. Those are the ones who will kill you. What you want to live and be happy in the world is a woman who has her own life and lets you have yours.” (667)

Later, in Amsterdam, during the shootout, Boris physically follows this ideology and his true feelings- he’s ready to die for Theo. Theo confessed his love verbally, this is Boris confessing his love in the way most natural to him, through action;

”…Again Boris moaned, as the guy yanked his hair once more, and from across the car threw me an unmistakable look—which I understood just as plainly as if he’d spoken the words aloud, an urgent and very specific cut of the eyes straight from our shoplifting days: run for it, Potter, go.” (760)

Can a Pulitzer prize-winning author write this blatant subtext accidentally? Is this just another case of cheap queerbaiting? It’s up to you to decide.

———————————————————————————————————–

A look at internalized homophobia and toxic masculinity as presented in the character of Theodore Decker; https://borispav.tumblr.com/post/179768610308/a-look-at-internalized-homophobia-and-toxic

by https://borispav.tumblr.com/

Post on Arthur Rimbaud’s poem; http://queer-deckovskij.tumblr.com/post/171833208225/so-very-important-detail-i-dont-know-if-any-of

by http://queer-deckovskij.tumblr.com/

All page numbers are from my copy of the book, meaning that I’ve changed the ones in the quotations from the original ones to my own.

I received technical writing help from a friend of mine, as I am dyslexic and have trouble expressing myself sometimes, who wants to stay anonymous, thank you anonymous!

#the goldfinch #boreo #theo decker #boris pavlikovsky #donna tartt #theodore decker #tgf #rin's analysis

2K notes · View notes

agameofme · 5 years

Text

Living in Grievance, Living in Gratitude

The other day I was walking down Shattuck in Berkeley. Ahead of me, two people were strolling very slowly and talking to each other. One of them caught sight of me behind him out of the corner of his eye, stopped walking and started rapidly repeating a rhythmic three-syllable phrase that at first I didn’t even understand. Then my brain made sense of it: “Come on, sir! Come on, sir! Come on, sir!” he said. “I see you straggling.” He had stopped to insist that I pass, and my soul curled up a little tighter inside me as I did. Finally turning to face me fully, he offered up an awkward correction. “Or ma’am, whatever.”

When I’m misgendered, which I am all the time, I retreat from the world, even as I am out in it. My spirit tightens into a little ball and hides somewhere deep in the core of me, leaving my body a kind of ghost ship, navigating physical space but not really inhabiting it. You could say that I take this approach to every aspect of life. My birthday was earlier this month. I turned 43. But I don’t like to call attention to my birthday. In my darkest, most self-pitying moments, the voice in my head says things like, “Another lonely, empty year. Toss it on the pile with all the others.” It was definitely a year in which I felt the lack of what Bresson called “the bonds that beings and things are waiting for in order to live.” There were few new memories made, no close connections, no seeing and being seen, no knowing and being known, no intimacy, no touch, no affection, no warmth, no love. Will 43 be the year that my life starts? Only time will tell. Maybe the key at this point is to find a kind of meaning that isn’t rooted in close connection with others. But what would that even look like? For me, right now, love is all that matters.

So: I’m extremely guarded against the world largely because I don’t feel seen by it. But the one thing I need more than anything else in order to feel like my life has meaning is close connections with others. I hope you can see my dilemma.

When the pain is at its worst, it sometimes seems to me that there is a choice I have to make between anguish and anger. The anger is much easier. It’s more seductive. It feels more powerful. The anguish leaves me open, aching, yearning, wanting, needing. It hurts like hell sometimes. But in the anguish, there is still the possibility for connection, for salvation. The anger cuts me off. It puts me at odds with the world, with other people. The anguish is better, infinitely better, I assure you. On the final page of Donna Tartt’s novel The Goldfinch, there is this:

Maybe even if we’re not always so glad to be here, it’s our task to immerse ourselves anyway: wade straight through it, right through the cesspool, while keeping eyes and hearts open.

And the thing is that at times, in fleeting moments here and there, I am still so fucking grateful to be alive, even though I’m most definitely not always “so glad to be here,” because though I truly do seek to be free of the loneliness and alienation and anguish in my life, I can sometimes see a strange kind of beauty even in my own spectacular failure of a life.

I found The Goldfinch frustrating for the ways in which it was entirely about whiteness and wealth and privilege but didn’t seem to know in the least that it was entirely about these things, a novel that had the privilege of passing off its experiences and insights and truths as universal when in truth so few of us get to live lives unfettered enough that we can reach for such truths the way Theo Decker does, flying from posh hotel to posh hotel, never really acknowledging that the people behind the counters of those hotels have inner worlds as worthy and wondrous as his own, that they, too, live lives worthy of Pulitzer Prize-winning novels. And yet, I adored it in the end. In the novel’s final moments, as Theo reflects on everything he’s been through and the now that all of that has brought him to, I finally understood where the word “breathtaking” comes from when critics use it as a superlative to describe the impact of a work of art. Sitting outside the little neighborhood coffee stand that is part of my daily routine, I felt my breathing shift, so awestruck and exhilarated was I by the truths Tartt was holding up to the light.

In the closing pages of the book, Theo says,

...I’m hoping there’s some larger truth about suffering here, or at least my understanding of it--although I’ve come to realize that the only truths that matter to me are the ones I don’t, and can’t, understand. What’s mysterious, ambiguous, inexplicable. What doesn’t fit into a story, what doesn’t have a story. Glint of brightness on a barely-there chain. Patch of sunlight on a yellow wall. The loneliness that separates every living creature from every other living creature. Sorrow inseparable from joy.

Yes. Yes. Those are the truths that matter to me, too. After finishing the book, my brain and spirit buzzing from its ending, I walked into a Target, and my phone shuffled up the song “Pobody’s Nerfect” by Wolf Parade. As with so much of Wolf Parade’s music, there’s a point in the song when the sound just gets so vast, it encompasses cities and mountains and forests and starry night skies and also the most intimate truths, the look in the eyes of a trusted friend, the lowering of defenses between people, the past, the future, a freedom from crushing expectations, all of it, all of it at once, and I felt my soul, normally so very small within my body, so guarded, so tense, so vigilant, sweep out to fill the Target and the town and the universe and I thought, that’s it, that’s where it is, that’s why I’m here, the mysterious, ambiguous, inexplicable truth that is microscopic and cosmic all at once and that I will never be able to hold in my hands but will never, ever stop grasping for.

Here’s the thing: My life is so fucking small, just me, here, alone, in this little studio apartment, the solitude stretching like a gray gelatinous blob from day to day to day to week to week to week to week to year to year to year to year to year, and yes, I’ve built a fortress around my heart because I feel besieged in the world, and yes, there’s only very few who can breach it, people who bring my guard down, who make me feel safe and seen and free from expectations that I can never hope to meet. Isn’t it strange how living with the fear of failure, the fear of being deemed too much of a fuckup and cast aside as a hopeless case, has done nothing to motivate me to change, has succeeded only in turning me inward with shame, yet the absence of that fear is what I know could motivate me to change? I’ve lived with the fear my whole life. It doesn’t make me a better person. But love? Yes. Love could do that.

On very rare occasions people try to claw their way into my life but they’re all wrong to me. They’re people who have me raising the drawbridge, flooding the battlements with archers. Then someone strolls by for whom the drawbridge lowers itself, someone who carries the password to bypass all the magical fortifications our enchanters can devise, and they don’t even wish to enter. So it goes, for what’s true for me is as true for them. Again, from the final pages of The Goldfinch: “We can’t choose what we want and don’t want and that’s the hard lonely truth.”

But if at some point the drawbridge lowers and someone enters and we come to some sort of understanding, both of us clear that though there are limits to how well we can know ourselves, much less each other, we’re willing to live together in the full wondrous ambiguity of that, appreciating the beautiful inexplicability of it all together, I will be so grateful, and so glad I lived long enough for that to finally happen in my life. And if it never does, and if I live out the remainder of my years as lonely as the last many years have been, well, it won’t remotely be the life I want for myself, but even that, I suppose, will be inexplicably beautiful in its own way.

17 notes · View notes

ao3feed-byeler · 4 years

Text

thanks obama

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3bs3Z1A

by bytheinco_nstantmoon

mike doesn't actually know what the fuck's going on, ok? and honestly? neither does anyone else. -- batman: hey not to be dramatic or anything but if will doesn't turn down his sixties love songs and let me sleep i can and will shoot myself

i got a big stick: im just trying to vibe jonathon let me be

batman: vibe quieter -- yes this is a chatfic yes this involves the goldfinch yes it has an actual plot no i am not sorry (ok im a little sorry but i already wrote 10 chapters so accept me please)

yes this will be updating and there might even be a schedule

Words: 961, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Stranger Things (TV 2016), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King, The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt, I Am Not Okay with This (TV 2020)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Characters: literally all of them

Relationships: Will Byers/Mike Wheeler, Eleven | Jane Hopper/Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Eleven | Jane Hopper/Dustin Henderson, Dustin Henderson/Lucas Sinclair, Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair, Dustin Henderson/Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair/Dustin Henderson/Eleven | Jane Hopper, Theodore Decker/Boris Pavlikovsky, i do not in fact know how the losers are going to be paired, Tommy Hagan/Carol Perkins, Robin Buckley/Barbara "Barb" Holland, Eleven | Jane Hopper & Richie Tozier, Dina/Sydney Novak, Stanley Barber/Sydney Novak, Dina/Sydney Novak/Stanley Barber

Additional Tags: hell yes i invented new ship tags again, go me, Richie Tozier and Mike Wheeler Are Twins, however!!!!!!, Richie Tozier and Mike Wheeler and Boris Pavlikovsky are triplets, yes i did that, no i dont know why, yes this is a chatfic, no i still don't know why, Queerplatonic Relationships, no i don't know how im pairing up the losers yes it will happen, there is no bad pairing in the losers club like buddy how am i supposed to choose, i know i can't write a seven person relationship like i just don't have the expertise, but it'll be a whole mess, maybe reddie or stozier and like queerplatonic bev and richie, maybe the core four will be a ship, literally who knows, like literally because not me, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, at 3 AM, with a 104 degree fever, This is not a joke, there IS a plot, It's Just Kind Of Shitty, no this is not connected to my other crossover in any way, what do you mean carol's last name is perkins?????????????, what the fuck, anyway, Redemption, Everyone Gets A Redemption Arc Except Billy Hargrove, you remember the bully james, yeah he's tommy's brother now, im not accepting constructive criticism on this matter, Barbara "Barb" Holland Lives, Georgie Denbrough Lives, Everyone Is Alive, gays can have a little angst as a treat, no beta we die like men, also no beta because who the fuck betas a chatfic, if you've betaed a chatfic your balls are fucking massive dude, are james and troy gay, Maybe - Freeform, i literally don't know!!!!!!!!!!, boy oh boy i hope someone reads this, sorry if you take psychic damage, also, Divorce, Insecurity, thats right boys we have actual feelings in this chat, please read it, tHANK U, if u read it i'll love u forever, ok that's all, mike's name is mikhail because that's how it works now, oh right, Ukrainian Richie Tozier, Ukrainian Mike Wheeler, Gay Mike Wheeler, Gay Richie Tozier, Jewish Richie Tozier, Jewish Mike Wheeler, Jewish Boris Pavlikovsky, It Really Do Be Like That, this isn't actually a joke fic i swear, jane and richie r an epic bromance, wait, Genderfluid Character, Nonbinary Character, Agender Character, no none of these are the same character, Eleven | Jane Hopper Is Genderfluid, Lucas Sinclair Is Agender, Bisexual Lucas Sinclair, Polyamory, lit, Weed, they smoke a lot of weed, esp dustin i see u boy, yes stanley barber and stanley uris are both in this, no i am not going to address that they are identical, that's ur problem not mine

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3bs3Z1A

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #byeler

2 notes · View notes

ao3feed-ianowt · 4 years

Link

by bytheinco_nstantmoon

i got a big stick: im just trying to vibe jonathon let me be

batman: vibe quieter -- yes this is a chatfic yes this involves the goldfinch yes it has an actual plot no i am not sorry (ok im a little sorry but i already wrote 10 chapters so accept me please)

yes this will be updating and there might even be a schedule

Words: 961, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Stranger Things (TV 2016), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King, The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt, I Am Not Okay with This (TV 2020)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Characters: literally all of them

#i am not okay with this #ianowt #ao3feed #ao3feed-ianowt

2 notes · View notes

redorblue · 7 years

Text

The Goldfinch, by Donna Tartt

Boy was I hyped for this book. I read The Secret History in September (twice) and had to keep myself from making a shrine to Donna Tartt, so when I finally got my hands on The Goldfinch (which is a Pulitzer Prize winner no less) I was very, very excited. Which, as I keep forgetting, is not a good way to start a new book. So... It’s not like this book was a waste of time, and who am I to criticize a Pulitzer book anyway, but to me it’s definitely not as good as The Secret History, and at times I found it very hard to keep going.

Let’s start with what I liked though. I like how Donna Tartt writes relationships. I read an interview with her the other day where she says that she’s less interested in writing romance than other kinds of relationships. So far I’ve read two of her three novels (and at least in those two it’s very obvious that she doesn’t find romance all that interesting) and I’m very grateful to come across an author who doesn’t treat romance as the end-all-be-all. Granted, her depiction of friendship and family, and really her books in general, are rather dark and I dare say pessimistic, but still, it’s refreshing and superbly done. The main friendship here is the one between the protagonist and narrator, Theo, and his childhood friend Boris whom he meets a few weeks after his mother’s death in a terrorist attack (not committed by Islamists. Thanks, Donna). They soon become the only fixed point in each other’s lives in a solitary world of neglectful and violent fathers and absent/dead mothers. Objectively speaking, neither one is a good influence on the other: Boris is an alcoholic at the tender age of 13 and introduces Theo to a whole lot of other disreputable substances, as well as petty crime, and Theo’s self-destructive behaviour only exacerbates Boris’ tendency toward recklessness. But despite all that they form a strong friendship (with some romantic subtext here and there) based on a deep understanding of the other’s character, and morals aside, it’s really beautiful to see how far they would go for the other. I’d still say that they’re bad for each other and that their relationship is destructive at its core, but not because it’s a bad friendship - rather because their respective personal issues inadvertently make the other’s worse and also have a negative impact on their environment. Actually I think that’s true for most of Donna Tartt’s characters: They’re not really bad people (by whatever standards), and their issues don’t make them bad people either; it’s more the specific combinations in stressful situations that produce bad outcomes for them and others.

Another important relationship in The Goldfinch is the one between Theo and several parental figures: his mother (dead, which leaves him deeply scarred), Mrs Barbour who takes him in for a while after his mother’s death, his father (a relationship that haunts Theo his entire life), and Hobie, his guardian. It’s a rather tired trope to kill the protagonist’s mother in order to induce personal trauma, but I think in this case it’s very well executed and although we only meet her for a few short pages, she feels like a real, layered person instead of some sacrificial lamb meant only to create manpain. Her death, and specifically the manner of her death (the terrorist attack, during which Theo is also injured) leaves a huge hole in his heart and causes a whole bunch of mental health issues, but the reason for that is that we know first hand what a great person, and great mother, she was, and that’s what makes Theo’s pain over her death so relatable. (spoilers) His father, on the other hand, remains rather one-dimensional although he gets a lot more screen time. The only thing I know about him now is that he’s an abusive, unreliable coward, and honestly that’s enough, the less said about him the better. What’s really interesting is not him as a character, but his relationship with Theo, specifically how Theo recognizes (or thinks he recognizes) his father in his every action and urge and how it contributes to his self-loathing and carelessness about his destructive impulses.

So Theo’s biological parents are abusive and/or deceased, which is why he turns to other parent-aged people, namely Mrs. Barbour and Hobie. Especially Theo’s relationship with Mrs. Barbour becomes a bit obsessive, to the point where he mainly agrees to marry his girlfriend (Mrs. Barbour’s daughter) in order to please Mrs. Barbour, but in general they have a positive influence on Theo’s life. Theo has severe mommy/daddy issues and is very insecure toward them since subconciously he always thinks they’ll kick him out, even when he’s financially independent and an adult himself, so he always does his very best to hide his inner torment from them. Of course this is not a good thing in general, but it forces Theo to keep up appearances, to keep it together at least superficially, and I’m pretty sure it’s the only thing that keeps his drug addiction from escalating so much that it impairs his ability to function. They don’t know enough about what’s going on inside him, maybe also turned a blind eye a bit too often in an effort to see what they hoped to see and respect his privacy, but at least he didn’t end up as another body in the gutter, dead from heroin overdose, which would very likely have happened without them.

Lastly, there’s the romantic relationships, if you can call them that. The one with Kitsey (the woman he almost marries) is not really romantic; if anything, Theo’s in love with the idea of being in love with her, and the sense of normalcy that comes with it. It’s quite obvious that he doesn’t really know her, and she doesn’t really know him, and they’re both not remotely interested in changing that since it would mean letting their facades of a normal life without emotional trauma drop, and they’re both not ready for that. Not with each other anyway. They get along well enough when they’re alone although they don’t seem to share any interests, but they’re definitely not marrying for love but rather for convenience.

Theo’s relationship with Pippa, on the other hand, is the complete opposite. I dare say it’s not so much love but obsession that binds him to her, stemming from an emotional connection because of shared trauma (she was a survivor of the same terrorist attack that killed Theo’s mother and left him injured). Theo knows a lot about Pippa, they can talk to each other and they share interests - which would be perfect if in his mind she wasn’t so inextricably linked to his guilt complex about the loss of his mother, and if she reciprocated the feeling. Which thankfully she doesn’t (to that extent, at least; it leaves her enough reason to see things as they are) because she understands very well that what they both need in their lives is not another unstable person. She doesn’t cut ties with him entirely because after all they share many experiences and mean a lot ot each other, but she continually makes it clear that she doesn’t want to be with him - which doesn’t stop him from developing a more or less respectful, but very unhealthy obsession about her. However, while I don’t see anything remotely romantic or cute in this kind of relationship, I like how Donna Tartt executes it. Theo’s relationship with Pippa could very easily be turned into something that the reader is supposed to find romantic - the lonely, broken man pining for his childhood sweetheart - but it’s not. It’s shown for what it is: unhealthy, obsessive, damaging to both of them, a curse rather than a blessing. Which for me makes it all the more interesting, if painful, to observe.

So. Obviously, I liked the interactions between the characters and how they all make so much sense considering their personal backstories. What I didn’t like was mainly the length of it. For the entire 800+ pages the reader is stuck in Theo’s head, and let me tell you, it’s not pleasant in there. On the one hand, descriptions of drug abuse are simply not my thing, I don’t like spending a lot of time in the head of someone who’s constantly on alcohol, painkillers, cocaine and what have you. It’s doubly not my thing if the character in question is 13 years old. The part in Vegas dragged so much I was seriously tempted to put the book down, which goes against my every principle as a bibliophile. It got better when Theo was grown up because the problems of a twenty-something are more interesting to me than those of a teenager - but not much better. Because Theo keeps making the wrong choices (only one wrong choice, really) over and over again, and worse, he keeps whining about all the missed turns. Yes, it makes sense in terms of his character, someone who’s so cagey about personal information doesn’t just walk up to his guardian one day and tells him that he accidentally stole a 65 Mio. Dollar painting - but on the long term it’s so frustrating I kept wanting to shake some sense into him. Theo isn’t a take-charge character (even in the end it was thanks to Boris that the painting finally got back where it belonged), he’s someone who just floats along while wistfully looking at all the missed chances, but there’s only so much I can take of such an approach to life. And it’s definitely less than 800+ pages.

#2018 #the goldfinch #donna tartt #book review

3 notes · View notes