When it comes to books, a recommendation from a trusted friend goes much farther than awards or ‘Best of’ lists. So even though The Goldfinch is a Pulitzer Prize winning novel, it was during a conversation about art and its role in our lives that a friend suggested I give it a read.

I’ll confess that in picking up the book I was also motivated by wanting to be familiar with the source material before watching the film adaption (which I was interested in because of Roger Deakins‘ involvement; it turns out, by my account the film didn’t come close to doing this novel and its characters justice).

I took my time reading the book — mostly to savour it but at times I needed space from the main character Theo. When I did finish The Goldfinch, I found there were three main aspects that made this a special read: the writing (naturally), the book’s robust characters and rich themes, and the relationships that carry Theo’s story across 15 years.

Donna Tartt’s writing is gorgeous; not a surprise, given her readership and her acclaim. I appreciated how she shapes 15 years of life and book-ends the story being narrated from the present. There is a fullness to the language that makes the mundane grand. And while I love the depth and density I must confess that at times I was frustrated with the level of detail. However, I did enjoy Theo’s internal dialogue. At times the stream of consciousness crafted by Tartt worked to create a lived-experience realness to Theo and his growth, which for me very much supports a theme of authenticity throughout the book.

The writing combined with its compelling story creates a novel that explores profoundly human themes: trauma, addiction, and authenticity. These overarching through lines elevate The Goldfinch as it explores how art stands as a witness to and a sentinel of history. It asks the reader to contemplate how art provides a connection to our past and offers salvation for our troubles.

As Theo narrates his story for us, we’re introduced to the relationships that shape his life. Three that stand out for me include: 1) Theo’s relationships with men (Andy, his father, Boris, Hobbie), 2) his relationship with antiques as an analogy to his own inauthentic existence, and most important, 3) his relationship with the painting and how Theo can be viewed in the context of the titular goldfinch, both the bird in the painting and the artwork itself. He too is tethered to the past, disguised, and hidden away. The trauma of his youth kept him anchored to one spot, much like that delicate little bird, left unknowable and isolated. And was he protecting himself by protecting the painting and hiding himself away as he hides the painting? The complexity of these relationships and the characters populating Theo’s life are what has stayed with me long after reading the book.

Reflecting on what I like about The Goldfinch, what remains is its juxtaposition of life’s complexity and simplicity and how foundational art is to our communal experiences and our individual growth. Consistently throughout her story Tartt so wonderfully shows us how the everyday experiences of living a life, experiencing art, and growing through our pain can be epic in the scope of our own histories.