All right, The Goldfinch (by Donna Tartt). My emotions are pretty mixed concerning this book. Brief synopsis: young boy is in an art museum with his mother at the time of a bombing, he loses his mother and fulfills a dying man's wish by lifting a priceless painting. The rest of the book follows the boy (Theo) as he deals with the death of his mother, his seedy father, addiction, well-meaning but destructive friends, job troubles, the Russian mafia, unrequited love, and lots and lots of guilt for not returning the painting. The prose is engaging and I was completely sucked in as the book opened and the story started to unfold, specifically with the relationship between Theo and his mom and how he learned to cope in the months following her death. Once that short section of the story is over, though, I found that I couldn't put the book down for quite a different reason: anxiety. The direction it took left me wringing my hands in distress and reading as much as I could in order to advance to a redeeming part of the story. I ended up finishing the book before that happened....
Honestly, I don't quite know how to quantify my thoughts on this book. Was it well-written? Yes, but pages and pages of well-written descriptions of heavy drug use, its aftermath, and attempted recovery over and over and over are still pages and pages of heavy drug use, its aftermath, and attempted recovery over and over. Not really what I'm interested in reading, especially when (time and time again) Theo would emerge from his meticulously detailed drug-induced misery for another character to say "hey! while you were busy this incredible bit of action took place and now we can tidily move on". Don't rob me of fun to read and interesting action scenes! Was it gripping? Yes. I thought about this book constantly. Anytime I wasn't reading it, I wanted to be, but was that more for advancing in the story or just for moving past the part I was currently in? I don't know. All I can confidently say about this book was that I enjoyed the premise and it was not a waste of time. Other than that, I'll probably still be thinking about whether I liked it or not for a long time to come - whether or not that's an attractive quality in a book, I'll let you decide.
(Kerry: I hope this helps! I don't know if I would recommend The Goldfinch, but I wouldn't dissuade you from reading it, either.)
Honestly, I don't quite know how to quantify my thoughts on this book. Was it well-written? Yes, but pages and pages of well-written descriptions of heavy drug use, its aftermath, and attempted recovery over and over and over are still pages and pages of heavy drug use, its aftermath, and attempted recovery over and over. Not really what I'm interested in reading, especially when (time and time again) Theo would emerge from his meticulously detailed drug-induced misery for another character to say "hey! while you were busy this incredible bit of action took place and now we can tidily move on". Don't rob me of fun to read and interesting action scenes! Was it gripping? Yes. I thought about this book constantly. Anytime I wasn't reading it, I wanted to be, but was that more for advancing in the story or just for moving past the part I was currently in? I don't know. All I can confidently say about this book was that I enjoyed the premise and it was not a waste of time. Other than that, I'll probably still be thinking about whether I liked it or not for a long time to come - whether or not that's an attractive quality in a book, I'll let you decide.
(Kerry: I hope this helps! I don't know if I would recommend The Goldfinch, but I wouldn't dissuade you from reading it, either.)
Woot, you rock! Mixed feelings is pretty much what I'm hearing from everyone about this book. Maybe if I can get it super on sale, I'll give it a go ;)
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