The 2013 novel by Donna Tartt, The Goldfinch, is a pensive coming of age story full of grief, secrets, and mystery. Its realism and authentic storyline earned a movie adaptation in 2019 that sparked its discussion once more.

The film begins with a narrative from the protagonist, Theodore Decker, as an adult living in a hotel in the Netherlands. He solemnly describes his days of watching a world he can not reach pass by around him, surrounded by people that he could not understand. He recounts a dream he had the night before: a dream about his long deceased mother.

It’s then that Theo takes the readers back to the day she died, the museum bombing that had killed her, and his theft of a painting that sparks the events of the rest of the novel. The somber tone carries on for the whole middle portion of the book – about 300 pages that I can’t say I enjoyed.

It’s a stark contrast to the epic and enthralling first three chapters of the book. Every page was a question of “what next”, but then as we follow Theo to Nevada with his drunk father and his addict girlfriend, you start to question what point the author is trying to make.

And while the ending can make the long wait worth it, I’d rather read a book that keeps me entertained all the way through.

Reading the book isn’t pointless, though. Lately, it can be difficult to find people who are willing to slow down enough to enjoy reading a physical book. As boring as that portion of the book can be, reading it can be a reminder of how refreshing it is to be off of social media and to enjoy the slow pace of the day.

It’s a good book if you want a distraction from the quick and hectic drama that the internet brings.