The Goldfinch |
Happy Thanksgiving! Today is my very, very favorite holiday! Food, family, relaxation, and reflection. It simply doesn't get better. I hope you are enjoying the day as much as I plan to.
I have had this book On Reserve for what feels like forever. Pretty much ever since it got all that buzz and won a little award called the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction. No big deal.
By the time it got a shout out on The Good Wife, one of my favorite shows, I knew it was time to finally give it a go. That month long break from grad school I just finished, proved the perfect time to tackle this nearly 800-page tome.
So what were my thoughts about this lauded novel?
Well, I have some mixed feelings. There were parts I absolutely loved. The whole first part, in fact, was marvelous. It was captivating and intense and a bit magical, in the most heartbreaking way possible.
Theo Decker, a thirteen year old boy, loses his mother in a terrorist attack on a NYC art museum. In the chaos following the attack, he takes a famous painting, The Goldfinch by Dutch painter Carel Fabritius. By the time he realizes what he comes to his senses and realize what he did in his injured haze, Theo is engulfed in a world of Child Services and uncertainty. It seems to scary to admit his mistake. So, he holds on to the priceless work of art, now assumed destroyed by the explosion in the museum.