Still about The Goldfinch

I am still dwelling on some parts of The Goldfinch that particularly caught my attention. The book is full of interesting observations so AC Observes is compelled to notice and make her own conclusions and parallels.

I stopped and pondered on Theo’s reflection regarding people who loved him and supported him. There were two people in his life that cared for him exceptionally much, they were guessing his needs and his worries in attempt to fulfill the first and remedy the second. This is a very special type of love and our mothers usually give us that. Good mothers, that is. Mine was a good mother and she smothered me with guessing what may worry me or what may hurt me. Sometimes this was even irritating and I tried to shake off her affectionate caring. I wish I could experience such moments again, I would take it in a different way. Unfortunately, I do not think that it will happen, not my age and not with my mother passing away. Not all her caring was particularly clever. She may have helped me to become a hypochondriac or at least thinking about my health too much. It was also unfortunate that she did not appreciate value of physical fitness. Very few people did in Poland in the time I was growing up. One day we had a running competition at school and I won the run for 100 meters. It was exhilarating but my mother checked if I did not get by any chance sweaty as the result of my sporty achievement. I did. This was the end of my running carrier and I obediently took her council. Silly and funny. For many years I followed old saying “in healthy body lives a healthy cow” and kept away from sport and redirected my efforts to intellectual pursuits. I wish I could reverse the time and correct mistakes.

My mother was right caring for me the best way she knew. 

                                                          

Lives turn in unexpected ways. We plan, work towards some goals, go about our days as usually and then suddenly something happens that changes the course of our life. If we only knew, we may have chosen different path and our life would be different. Maybe better, maybe worse. Theo’s life changed dramatically when he and his mother on the way to Theo’s school went to the Met Museum to see a particular exhibition. There are many “if onlys” that Theo deliberates on. Things could have been different and his mother would have been alive, if only… Many of us have such situations in life that from a distance of time we see that we could have changed the course of our history. I do. And sometimes we blame ourselves; the right steps are so obvious when we look at the situation later on. We are now aware of the signs that should have redirected our steps and actions. We feel guilty that we were not able to correctly foresee the future, use our intuition to protect ourselves. Theo does in hard times of his life. He realizes that he had at least partial knowledge that could have taken his life in a different direction. I, myself sometimes experience similar feelings. One of such moments was my last goodbye to my mother at the Warsaw airport. If I only read the signs, stayed with her maybe she would not pass away so early. She left such a big gap in my life.  And here Donna Tartt comes to the rescue. She says that sometimes after the events we think we knew what we should have done but this is not so. We had only partial knowledge, nor sufficient to make different decisions. We did not know enough. Later, we found new pieces of the puzzle and only this information would have allowed us act differently. Then it was already too late. For a person like myself this is very uplifting explanation.

Quo Vadis?

                                               

I perhaps read too much into the book’s messages but I still maintain that this is the beauty of the book that takes us on our own tangents, things that are significant to an individual person.  

The Goldfinch

I have finished The Goldfinch of Donna Tartt two days ago. I am usually a slow reader, maybe because I read difficult books, rarely novels. I get my brain rest watching feel good repeats on television. Books are meant to teach me something. Lately, I have been making some exceptions though, reading Knausgaard’s My Struggle and more. At the moment I have more books on the go than usually, this is because there were so many temptations in Polish bookstores to which I have succumbed and my reading backlog, as the result, is very impressive. Or overwhelming, if you like. The Goldfinch made me put all the other books aside and I finished it in a record time six or seven days. The book has over 800 pages. Big part of my days and sometimes nights was dedicated to reading. I was totally immersed in the book. Nice feeling, really. I experienced it often in my young years so I felt rejuvenated in spirit. 

Various people classify the book as a bildungsroman, a type of novel concerned with development and maturing of a person. This is a story about Theo who is thirteen years old when the story starts with a very dramatic event of explosion in the Metropolitan Museum. He is in the museum with his mother when the tragedy strikes. His mother is killed in the explosion and the boy escapes from the place with his life, a ring and the small painting of the goldfinch painted by Fabritius  in 1654. I do not intend to write about the story, just my major impressions and observations resulting from reading the book.

I must have seen the painting a long time ago, maybe even twice as I have been twice in the gallery of Mauritshuis in the Hage. That’s where the painting is on display. Mauritshuis is my most favourite gallery in the world. Of course, I have seen rather limited number of galleries, but this one is to me very special. Maybe because I like the Dutch paintings or maybe because it is not too big and one can enjoy the paintings without being overwhelmed. 

                                  

I must confess that there were other paintings in the Maurithuis that made bigger impression on me than The Goldfinch.  I can hardly remember the little painting of the little bird from those times, but there is a vague recollection in me.

                                                   

The story is gripping and this is one of the reasons why it reads so well and captures one’s attention. For me it was much more, though. I have been always pondering over questions: “how to live Prime minister?” or “what it is all about?”. Maybe the book has not given me definite answers but it gave me some pointers. Or maybe it was me who came to my own conclusions? I feel, however, that improved clarity of thought was inspired by the book. This is, I think, one of the many strength of the book. It triggers off readers’ reflection over their own lives.

The book is concerned with love of beauty and particularly with preservation of antique objects or even only their fragments. Antiques have been my interest since many years, so I responded to the book in a particular way. There were times when I thought that I pay too much attention to objects, to “stuff” as I sometimes dismissively called my treasures. The book made me think of attachment to possessions as more noble than I saw it before. I look at it now as a love of beauty rather than possessiveness. Nice feeling.

Friendship, one of my core values, is a very strong part of the book. The friendship that is accepting, understanding, accepting without understanding, blind because it is based on trust that underlines the relationship. Friendship I would like to experience but I am not sure if I could master that much trust as Theo has for Boris. I find Boris’ character absolutely fascinating. He is Russian who is thrown into various countries and he assimilates well there. However, to me deep down he is Russian, he has Russian soul and Russian complexities of the character. It is very difficult to understand the Russian soul.  Donna Tartt does. This is colourful and fascinating part of the book.

If I was rating the book, I would give it 10 out of 10.

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.