The Goldfinch: A Novel

Editorial reviews

The Goldfinch: A Novel

I found myself flipping through the pages, skimming over conversations and scenes to see if anything would actually happen, which often it did not.

Donna Tartt is catnip for educated people who want to read entertaining but not difficult things about lofty topics and cosmopolitan people.

Donna Tartt’s prose is, as ever, sublimely elegant and lyrical, particularly in the rendering of location.

Altogether a masterly work of fiction well worth waiting for.

The reader is swept into an aria of sorts about a lost childhood and a lost mother and a lost painting. "The Goldfinch" sings, page after page.

Tartt has created a rare treasure: a long novel that never feels long, a book worthy of our winter hibernation by the fire.

While The Goldfinch delves seriously and studiously into themes of art, beauty, loss and freedom, I mostly loved it because it kept me wishing I could stay in its fully-imagined world a little longer.

For all its artfulness, and despite a satisfying and wholly unexpected denouement, "The Goldfinch" both describes and understands the arbitrariness of life and never makes it seem simpler or more orderly than the fascinating, troubling mess it is.

In her homage to Dickens, Tartt never fully channels the Victorian’s gothic strangeness, and she loses some of her own vicious variety.

Donna Tartt has delivered an extraordinary work of fiction.

It’s a novel that weds Ms. Tartt’s gift for orchestrating suspense.