The Secret History, by Donna Tartt
About six years ago, my boyfriend of the time brought me to a lake where he was meeting a jet-skiing co-worker. The day prior, he asked me to go, saying I could meet his co-worker’s girlfriend, with whom he thought I’d get along. I was doubtful. I was annoyed with his persistence that new friends are good, and also that it was a way for him to pawn me (and my interests) off on somebody else. But when I said to him and his co-worker, “That means I’ll have to shave,” and the co-worker called his girlfriend to ask her and she said the same thing, then I figured, “Okay. I’ll give it a go.” When I got there,
Alice was sitting at the end of a dock reading a book. She couldn’t put it down. She was almost finished with it. As a gift a while later, she gave me the book with a translated passage from T.S. Eliot’s
The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock (one of my favorite poems). The passage was the introduction stanza in Italian.
I started reading the book then, while I was in college, but I was heavily distracted and didn’t get too far into it. I wasn’t paying attention, I was missing things, and I thought it’d be best to wait. I finally picked it up again on Sunday.
The Secret History, by Donna Tartt, was absolutely amazing. I am shocked that I ever put the book down and feel like a dullard for doing it!
First, the protagonist and narrator, Richard Papen, matures so subtly throughout the novel. It’s apparent he’s maturing, but Donna Tartt does in a very natural way. Every character in the book: Henry, Camilla, Charles, Francis and Bunny, are people I could have easily fallen in love with in college. Upon closing the book, I realized I wanted those friends, that connection, despite all downfalls and conflicts and trials. Henry was the most mysterious, the most charming, the one I wished I could be with for a week, in solitude, him educating me, me drooling over his shoes. No matter what he looked like, I think his mind would have made me faint with loveliness.
The story was phenomenal. An adventure into classics, an understanding among friends that drove some of them crazy, a heartbreaking ending, and all based on a commitment they made that was socially unacceptable, but right and accepting among them—shockingly, with me accepting it as well. Go read it. Now.
The Little Friend, by Donna Tartt
This was suggested to be by a friend, whom I met while she was sitting on a dock reading the last pages of
The Secret History, by the same author. One wouldn't believe it, but
The Secret History was her debut novel! (I'm reading it now and will write about that one shortly).
The Little Friend introduced me to my favorite character in a long time. I rarely have favorite characters. 'Favorite' can mean any number of things. I admire some characters, I laugh at others, I think they're daring, brave, fun, etc. But I think that of all characters, I'll remember Harriet Cleve Dufresnes. When I read
Drowning Ruth, I had similar feelings for the child in that book (whose name I can't remember. Ruby, maybe?). But Harriet is a ball of DNA walking around, reminding me of all the things I did when I was a kid. From how she wrote her letters, to what books she read, to how she rode her bike, ran from things, ran to things, looked at people, reacted to people, wore her clothes. She's a heroine without doing things unexpectedly extraordinary that no twelve-year-old would possibly do. The fact that she hangs back despite her extravagance makes me smile.
I admit, I was disappointed with how it ended but only because I was petulant and wanted an answer to one of the bigger questions in the story, but I can overlook that after about a week because this was a GREAT STORY.
I get so much pleasure from that. A story. It doesn't follow a certain formula; it just keeps moving on, telling us more about Harriet, her sister Allison (also an interesting girl), and her friend Hely. All her aunts, her grandmother, her mother and some other kids in town who are getting "in it" way over their heads. Great read. Thanks,
Alice!
Watch Your Mouth, by Daniel Handler
Watch Your Mouth by Daniel Handler is a great read. A coworker at my part-time job at Borders recommended it to me. I had recently finished reading Ayn Rand's
Atlas Shrugged (
loved it!) and was 640 pages into Victor Hugo's
Les Miserables and wanted a bit of a pick me up. With reviews on the back cover like
Like Kafka on Prozac. -Village Voice,
Your basic self-reflexive parody incest opera mystery. -Kirkus Review, or
One of those . . . incest-comedy gothic Jewish porn opera novel. -Village Voice, I ask you, how can you go wrong?
The book was a very quick read, taking place in four acts of three scenes each, just like going to an opera. There are intermissions, so your reading schedule is decided for you, thus eliminating one more thing you have to stress about in your already too-hectic life. I suggest you buy it immediately and enjoy yourself for two full afternoons (or one, if you get home early). Twelve dollars and ninety-five cents at all your local bookstores, published by HarperCollins Publishers, who kind of suck, but we'll buy their books anyway.
