Books, Documentaries, Reviews:  December 21, 2013

Reading THE GOLDFINCH

Donna Tartt

I read fiction mostly at night when I go to bed.

Last night I started THE GOLDFINCH.

Theo Decker is the opening narrator.  At 13, he loses his mother in a sudden accident, which he survives.

Here’s a titillating paragraph near the opening of the novel:

“Oh, drat!”  cried my mother.  She fumbled in her bag for her umbrella–which was scarcely big enough for one person, let alone two.

And then it came down, cold sweeps of rain blowing in sideways, broad gusts tumbling in the treetops and flapping in the awnings across the street.  My mother was struggling to get the cranky little umbrella up, without much success.  People on the street and in the park were holding newspapers and briefcases over their heads, scurrying up the stairs to the portico of the museum, which was the only place on the street to get out of the rain.  And there was something festive and happy about the two of us, hurrying up the steps beneath the flimsy candy-striped umbrella, quick quick quick, for all the world as if we were escaping something terrible instead of running right into it.

This novel comes highly recommended and is included in those holiday reading lists for gift-giving or for your own pleasurable reading.  Besides, old friend June Derr says its good.