I liked this book. And then I really hated it. Bunny can go die. Well he did. And I don’t condone murder but this book made me feel so conflicted overall. It’s passionate, considerate, pretentious, arrogant, and somewhat chaotic read. Also very cold and lifeless— not in a bad way per se. Richard is honestly a really boring character, nothing that makes him stand out BUT the ordeal he went through and his need to belong gives him that edge that makes me give a second look. A lot of parts (especially in the beginning now that I think on it) were not relevant or necessary to the story but I think I loved it more because of the attention to detail and the way Richard talks about comepletey normal, every day things he did.

The first paragraph of The Secret History roughly sums up the mood of the book. In it, the narrator, Richard Papen, says that he thinks his fatal flaw is 'a morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs'. If you can relate to these words, chances are you'll love The Secret History. If not, you'll probably wonder what the fuss is all about. Personally, I can totally relate to these words, so I love the book. I've read it over half a dozen times, and while I do think it has its problems, I never fail to find it utterly gripping. There are occasional attempts to provide a moral or conceptual gloss on the whole thing, as when, in the very first paragraph, the narrator declares that his "tragic flaw" is "a morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs." But ideas like this aren't borne out by the narrative itself -- we never get a sense of what the narrator means by "the picturesque," and his bland, passive behavior doesn't seem to be characterized by a "morbid longing" for anything. Which brings me to my final point . . . At least two of the central characters (I'm thinking of Bunny and Henry) are vividly portrayed and interesting figures. (Unfortunately, one of them dies halfway through -- that's not a spoiler, as it's revealed in the prologue -- and the other largely fades from view in the second half.) In a certain sense, this was why I felt so close to the others in the Greek class. They, too, knew this beautiful and harrowing landscape, centuries dead; they'd had the same experience of looking up from their books with fifth-century eyes and finding the world disconcertingly sluggish and alien, as if it were not their home.

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This book is filled with jaw dropping plot twists and situations that had me crying, and gasping out loud. The most vivid thing for me was how what Richard found so beautiful in the beginning unearths itself to be rotten to the core. In his inadvertent journey of self-discovery after all the unpleasant things they do (like a naked forest ritual to invoke Dionysus that results in tragedy), Richard watches as this facade slowly unravels itself. His esteemed friends are a highly flawed lot. Even the bombastic sybarite Bunny who was at first fun turned out to be bigoted and with an annoying habit of leaving his friends with an inflated bill. people never seemed to notice at first how big Henry was. Maybe it was because of his clothes, which were like one of those lame but curiously impenetrable disguises from a comic book (why does no one ever see that 'bookish' Clark Kent, without his glasses, is Superman?). Or maybe it was a question of his making people see. He had the far more remarkable talent of making himself invisible – in a room, in a car, a virtual ability to dematerialise at will – and perhaps this gift was only the converse of that one: the sudden concentration of his wandering molecules rendering his shadowy form solid, all at once, a metamorphosis startling the viewer."

That should have been the title of this book, how each of the titular character views beauty.....and the unholy terror that comes from it. Tiny feathered creatures, it turned out, meant a great deal to her. One in particular: "Goldfinches are the greatest little birds," she told me then. "They're the last to settle down—they just fly around and they're happy for a long time, and just sing and play. And only when it's insanely late in the year, they kind of break down and build their nests. I love goldfinches — they're my favorite bird." Overall, I know I sound like a broken record, but this was one of the most unique reading experiences of my life. I honest to God just do not have the words to put in this review how this book made me feel. I will say that it very much feels like a spell is being cast upon you while reading. Like, I am almost positive that Donna Tartt cannot be a human being, because she is such an exclusive enigma. Also, I think I’ve developed a huge crush on her, so there’s that at least. I can say very confidently that I will remember this book, and the feelings it gave me while reading, for the rest of my life. Our merry band of classics fetishists may think they are living a life of poetry and meaning, but we, the readers, know they aren't. We know that life's beauty lies not in pleasure without regard for others, in the fulfillment of selfish desires, but in case we get confused, Donna Tartt shows us that a life lived by those guidelines leads to irrevocably damaged relationships, unfading pain, and death. Apparently the New York Times described The Secret History as "Powerful...Enthralling...A ferociously well-paced entertainment" and Time said "A smart, craftsman-like, viscerally compelling novel."beauty is rarely soft or consolatory. quite the contrary. genuine beauty is always quite alarming.’ and oh, how alarmingly beautiful this story is, as all the best greek tragedies tend to be; full of sorrow and struggle, but often accompanied by pure loyalty and divine inspiration. A beautifully written story, well-told, funny, sad, scary, and impossible to leave alone until I finished. . . . What a debut!" --John Grisham Someone just brought up Nietzsche’s Apollonian vs. Dionysian theory, which is described at the link below, if you are as unfamiliar as I was. http://www.geocities.com/danielmacrya... While finishing the book, me and Paloma had a discussion about the ending and how Greek heroes’ tales normally go. We talked about how murder taints everything, and how blood is the only thing that can purify it. We talked about how wearing masks is so important, yet death is another mask that we will all eventually wear. God, I’m being so cryptic, but if you’ve read the book maybe this paragraph will mean something to you, because it means the world to me.