The Secret History

a fun read, this one. themes include false appearances, power, corruption (of the moral variety), privilege and aesthetic value amongst others. my only criticism is that the plot could have unfolded in a more tactful manner. you've probably read the kind. they usually make you think "ah, so that's why so and so happened" or "oh my god so and so was happening behind the scenes" or "the puzzle has been complete..." and the like. generally, the kind of storytelling that makes a reader appreciative of the order and amount of information revealed to them. it would have made henry's revelation (or confirmation of richard's suspicion) of their crimes at the bacchanal much more entertaining. additionally, henry's whole transformation into a tragic criminal mastermind would have been a little more satisfyingly jarring rather than badly executed.

i think the only good reference to a seemingly arbitrary past event (rather than one elaborated upon after its significance was made known to us) was at the inn. charles had found a gun and a reference to the fact that they had been shooting at francis's place much earlier in the book was made. it made the reader reminisce of a much simpler time in the characters lives which was held in stark juxtaposition to their disarray within this scene. the letter head from the italaian hotel on bunny's letter was a close contender for this position.

despite some characterization and pacing issues the writing itself was exceptionally good. if it wasn't for this aspect of the novel i would have put it down immediately but, fortunately, it was more than amusing and down right hilarious when it needed or wanted to be. of course, the thematic significance is also highlighted with skill.

all in all, it is a great book. i definitely recommend giving it a read before you attend that impulsively scheduled, mid-semester bacchanal.

Somehow I'd thought I'd read this already but it turns out I hadn't. I'd probably started it and gotten distracted, which, with such a long book, is easy to do (at least for me) but fresh from The Goldfinch, I thought I'd (re)read only to discover . . . well, enough about me. I'm beginning to sound as self involved as the characters in this anti-mystery.

People in the other reviews were angered at this book for reasons which make no sense to me, or, maybe I just disagree with them. Maybe those readers were too self-involved to spend time with people who would have reminded them of themselves (if they dared let them), for the self-involvement in the book is that of youth and is a stage I imagine we all have to pass through (though some are stalled in the midst of it.) Like college kids everywhere, they think they know and understand much more than they actually do, and both learn and also unlearn a lot along the way.

What they learn is that their limited perspective is, well, limited. What they unlearn is that the new perspectives they gain are also limited, just limited different. Julian, the head of what could only be described as a cult, would say that the right limited perspective is a good one and that too much breadth not only costs you by not allowing for depth, but costs you the very experience of depth, which is valuable in itself. If we think of the modern world as one in which ADHD is, if not normal, at least understandably prevalent, our cult members instead immerse themselves in the world of the ancients which not only has different values, but a whole different way of experiencing reality. But even that is not enough, for even the ancients realized that having a self is so annoying that, despite comfort and privilege, we will do anything to get rid of it, if only for a little while.

One perspective that is singularly painful for our characters is that they are guilty of murder and that something that close to life and death can't be trivialized away. The book is ultimately about the consequences of this understanding and what it does, not only to the individuals, but to the relationships between them. This gets played out against a backdrop of the modern world with its police investigations, keg parties, spoiled rich people, class differences and hatreds, etc. In addition, we get tension between loneliness vs. real and imagined deep connection.

So what's not to like? Richard feels insufficiently male to me, for one, which served to reminded me that the author is female at times when this is distracting from the mood. Also, the (spoiler alert) suicide scene was less than convincing and seemed more for the purpose of moving the story along than anythings else. But the explanation that contrasted it to Julian's "cowardly" exit helped somewhat.

Donna Tartt's debut 1992 novel, The Secret History, opens with a prologue that lets the reader know, straight away, that Bunny will be murdered by his closest friends, and that this story will be told in the first person by one of them.

I suppose at one time in my life I might have had any number of stories, but now there is no other. This is the only story I will ever be able to tell.

This is Richard Papen's story, and he starts out by telling us the truth about his rather boring and poor childhood in Northern California, which he quickly replaces for a much more satisfying--and fictional--life when he manages to acquire the financial aide he needs to attend an expensive, tiny college in Vermont, which is about as far away from his dreaded home as he can get. Once there, he discovers that one of his biggest academic interests, Greek, is taught by the intriguing Julian Morrow, who only takes on a handful of students, and his class is full. However, Richard once again manages to obtain what he wants, charming his way into this rarefied atmosphere. For Richard, this is a heady, almost dangerous feeling, since he knows that in many aspects, he will be an outsider in this tiny, close-knit group.

Julian Morrow's class is more than just a Greek class, however--it is an entire major. These six students, Charles and Camilla Macauley (twins), Francis Abernathy, Edmund "Bunny" Corcoran, Henry Winter, and Richard, take most of their classes with Julian (as they address him), as Classics majors. It is a very unusual situation for undergraduates and it is a decision that Richard has been warned against, but--he's simply too fascinated with the group to stay away. It is the type of academic experience he's longed for.

Actually, in the beginning, this group of students appear to be rich and insufferably snobby, and I felt stressed for poor work-study Richard. Slowly, incident by incident, we get to know these young people as they begin to let Richard into their fold. One of the most riveting parts of the novel is how there is always another layer in each character to be uncovered. Julian's students, as Richard discovers, aren't the perfect rich kids he's imagined. Actually, only Henry and Francis are rich. The twins do not have rosy finances, plus much worse problems, besides. And Bunny's circumstances are very odd and simply appalling.

It is not long after Richard joins the group that something very bizarre happens to Francis, Charles, Camilla, and Henry, who have been experimenting clandestinely with a Pagan ritual focused on worshiping Dionysus. The four of them want nothing more than to completely forget what happened that night and the horrible accident it caused, and are desparate to keep it a secret.

This incident is the catalyst for the rest of the plot and turns the lives of everyone in this little circle into a strange and wicked odessey. And, along the way, the reader cannot help but ponder such questions as, How would I react, if I knew (xyz) about a friend? What would I do with this knowledge? What should I do with this information, and could I stand to do it?

I'd like to be able to point to the part of this tale where it became very difficult to put down, but perhaps that's as hard as it would be for Richard Papen to decide at what point he was too involved with the other characters to put them down. The Secret History is an extraordinary psychological thriller and is also a reminder of youthful feelings, such as the wish that friendships and fun times could stay the same forever, that no one would have to grow up , move away, and face different responsibilities. A term break meant two months' separation, and felt like forever. The unique atmosphere Donna Tartt creates around Julian's class is such that it was difficult for me to surmise when this story was taking place. It was an excellent way of revealing how insulated and different these six young lives were.

This is a tragedy worthy of the worshippers of Dionysus, and a long one, at 523 pages, but the pages will turn themselves. I really should go out and purchase this book. The thought of returning it to the library is a bit--tragic.