Book review: The Goldfinch

With Donna Tartt only writing about a book a decade, there's always quite a lot of fuss and expectation when the latest comes out. One way she avoids too much comparison with her much-loved debut is by going for a different genre every time - where The Secret History was a literate thriller, The Little Friend was a sort of Southern Gothic and now her third novel The Goldfinch is a personal odyssey for one young boy from Manhattan, who grew up not too badly off but spends his teens first among the very wealthy, then with a gambling-addicted father outside Las Vegas. The catalyst that sets his life in these directions is a terrorist attack at an art gallery, from which he salvages the titular painting. Not handing it in immediately, the longer he leaves it the bigger trouble he thinks he'll be in if he does, so the painting becomes a constant, secret companion.

In a way The Goldfinch is the story of Theo's life as told through the prism of the painting and his relationship with it - when it's out of sight, out of mind for a few years the story skips forward until it comes back into his life again. As well as this inanimate companion that's always there, Tartt creates a number of memorable characters that pass through his life, often returning to it when it seems like he should never meet them again. I can't say much more without giving too much away but if you're prepared for Tartt's often too-dense prose (Theo seems to spend several chapters walking through rubble at the start) it's a rewarding, moving experience and there's a couple of characters in here who feel classic already.