The Goldfinch and old buildings

About one month ago, I have been given three books as my name-day’s presents. I must confess that my first reaction was not gracious or positive. I am talking here about my thoughts, not verbalizing my disappointment. The reason for my initial reaction was not that I would have preferred some other presents. It was an issue of feeling obliged to read something I would not have chosen myself. This approach would be an explanation why I still do not belong to any book club even though I like the concept a lot. I obviously do not like much to be told what I should read. Time is precious.

However, I have read two of the given books with some interest and I am now reading the third of them The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt. Needless to say that eventually I feel very grateful to my friends for changing my reading plans that I had made before I left Australia for my Polish holidays.  I am particularly grateful for The Goldfinch, 800 pages plus book. I have not finished it yet but the story is fascinating and I read over 100 pages per day. I soon will be done. There is more to the book than just a story, much more, but I need to digest it a bit before I write more about it.

The book got the Pulitzer Prize in 2014 and I believe this is a controversial recognition. There are many layers in the book and many detours that I find interesting. Since the story is riveting it is easy to skim pages and bypass the meandering. I am not one of such readers who skim books to my disadvantage. I feel guilty if I do not read every word in a book. In this case I am rather happy that my habit makes me read all, or almost all.  There are little pearls on each page of the book.

                                                

Donna Tartt’s book has a lot of farewells. People and things are passing away from our lives. Things are fluid, they change and I felt that in the book there is a big dose of regret that it must be so. Such sentiments are obvious when people we love move away from our life. There is more than that though. Like the description of the old building, in which the hero of the book lived in the past, being gutted to make room for a new more modern and exclusive version. Maybe I found it particularly moving because I also have particular sentiment to old, beautiful objects and this includes buildings. I was really upset walking Sydney CBD streets when the old buildings were being destroyed. I almost felt physical pain. Most of facades were left to stay, however some of them collapsed during the demolition. I thought that in such a young country like Australia where there are not too many XIXth century buildings, the existing ones should be treasured. When I come to Poland I check what has happened in my neighbourhood.  I am always a little worried that some of my favourites may have not survived the year. There are many old buildings around and their renovation is sometimes more expensive than a replacement with a new. “Sensible” business decisions erase history too often.

I deviated from the subject of The Goldfinch. This is only the sign that the book wakes up dormant sentiments and emotions. This is part of its attraction and power.

I shall finish the book in a couple of days and I believe that I will feel compelled to write again about the book and my impressions. So stay tune if you are interested in the book. Better still start reading.