![]() ![]() ![]() Its narrator, Theo Decker, may be the most passive protagonist I’ve ever encountered in a mainstream novel, and for grindingly long stretches, the novel traps you in the same kind of stasis. After a hundred more, though, you find yourself in much the same place as you started, and as painless as it is, you start to wonder if it’s all really worth it. And there’s no question that a page or two of The Goldfinch goes down as smooth and easy as a vanilla milkshake. This protracted reading period wasn’t entirely the book’s fault: I’ve been so preoccupied by work and family, and plain exhausted at night, that I’ve rarely had a chance to sit down and read more than a few pages at a time. Last week, I finally finished Donna Tartt’s The Goldfinch, something like six months after I first picked it up. ![]()
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