The Secret History: From the Pulitzer Prize-winning author of The Goldfinch

This book is truly incredible. I loved it and, having finished it missed it so much that within a few days I had started reading it all over again! Having now completed the second reading, I have had to wean myself off it, before 'The Secret History' becomes the only story I will ever be able to read! I still open it at random from time to time though and read a little bit, and I think I always will, because the writing is so incredible; certain passages take my breath away. I have never been obsessed with a book in the way that I am with this, and I have been trying to work out just why I love this book so much. I do not really know how to categorise this novel; it doesn't fit into any particular genre (I wouldn't exactly describe it as a thriller and it's certainly not a murder mystery) and doesn't particularly remind me of anything else I have read. There are loads of books out there about someone having some kind of a secret in their past, but 'The Secret History' is so much more than most of these. For some reason it put me a little in mind of Siri Hustvedt's 'What I Loved', but I think this is only because Hustvedt's is the only book I've read in the last few years that has come anywhere near impressing me as much. `The Secret History' is that elusive mix of a satisfying, literary work combined with an intriguing storyline, which makes it an absolute pleasure to read. It is not a quick, easy read with a surprise on every page; I found that the more I thought about it the more I appreciated it for the masterpiece it truly is. It is largely the great characterisation which makes 'The Secret History'. The characters, love them or hate them, are fascinating ones. They are so skilfully portrayed that I feel I know these people and have been spending time with them, in their world. Passages such as the following (which I have read and re-read over and over, because it impresses me so much) are part of what sets this novel in a league of its own: the night after Bunny's murder, Richard says of one of the others, `All of a sudden I found myself able to see him as the world saw him, as I myself had seen him when I first met him - cool, well-mannered, rich, absolutely beyond reproach. It was such a convincing illusion that even I, who knew the essential falseness of it, felt oddly comforted'. I do not feel, as some people do, that the characters are completely unlikeable, unbelievable, or merely caricatures; I found them to be complex characters who are constantly developed throughout the novel, Charles being the only main character who is maybe somewhat under-developed. Camilla remains somewhat mysterious throughout; she has to as we are seeing her almost entirely through the eyes of the smitten Richard. We are learning more about Henry, Francis and the twins at the same time as is our narrator, the `stilted mannequins' of our initial acquaintance soon start to come to life for us just as they do for Richard. For me, the early chapters, where the characters are introduced, developed to a point, and the scene is set, are among the best in the novel. Of course our prior knowledge that these privileged young people are doomed serves to greatly increase our interest in them. I found my opinion of each character frequently shifting throughout the novel, indeed Donna Tartt is adept at manipulating her reader's sympathies. The way in which she successfully makes Bunny so repulsive in the weeks leading up to his death, while simultaneously painting the others in a fairly sympathetic light, makes it seem plausible that `five reasonable people' (to use the words of our narrator) plan and carry out the murder of their `friend'. Julian Morrow is a fabulous invention. The fact that he is present in very few scenes adds to the sense of mystery which envelops him. I don't think I will ever forget his "I hope we're all ready to leave the phenomenal world, and enter into the sublime?" at the start of his classes, the irony of course being that by the second time we hear him say this, the real world has become the sublime! The novel also boasts an impressive array of supporting characters, who are very well drawn, believable, have important roles to play and in many cases are very aptly named: Judy Poovey, Cloke Rayburn, Marion and Sophie Dearbold, for instance. I quite liked the way that, by telling us what virtually all even the minor characters are doing now, eight years on, the author neatly wrapped up her story. I felt that the references to Ancient Greece, the classics and the Greek language, as well as the peppering with little bits of Latin and pertinent lines from French poems helped to make the book what it was. No doubt a person who in `real life' constantly made such allusions would seem horribly pretentious, but in this book it works, it seems perfectly natural that Francis, rather than telling us simply that he is going to bed, should quote some Charles Baudelaire! The idea of fate too, of events moving inexorably towards a pre-ordained conclusion, is an interesting one in `The Secret History'. At the very start of the novel, Richard ruminates on his `fatal flaw'. Later, reflecting on the Greek language, he describes it as `a language obsessed with action, and with the joy of seeing action multiply from action, action marching relentlessly ahead...in a long straight rank of cause and effect towards what will be inevitable, the only possible end'. The story he is in the process of telling us is clearly moving towards tragedy, its only possible end. Donna Tartt is able to convey an atmosphere to perfection, whether this is the breathtaking scenery of Vermont and Hampden College, seen through the eyes of a young man who hitherto doesn't seem to have experienced much beauty in his life; the fragrant, floral intoxication of Julian's room (I could smell the roses, the bergamot and the tea); the eeriness of a room late at night, lit only by a tiny circle of lamplight, where, over a bottle of whiskey, the group's awful secret is revealed to the narrator; or the claustrophobia of the Corcoran house the night before Bunny's funeral, with the torrential rain outside, all sorts of disparate groups and individuals forced to stay under the same roof and be civil to one another, the distraught father veering between despair and forced jocularity, and bored children bickering and getting under everyone's feet, in the midst of which Bunny's `friends' are busy raiding Mrs Corcoran's drug cache. There is a great deal of humour in the book, albeit most of it of a dark or ironic kind. I really could discuss `The Secret History' for ever and a day; there is so much that could be said about it and so many questions to ponder. It's interesting to consider how close to the truth is the story that our narrator is telling us, in light of the fact that not only do we see lies simply roll of his tongue right from the start (his fictive childhood, telling Bunny that the jacket he has just got from Judy was his grandfather's), but he even warns us, `If there's one thing I'm good at, it's lying on my feet. It's sort of a gift I have'! Of course, Richard's version of the story is the only one we will ever have, so in some respects this is a pointless question, although an intriguing one! If you haven't already read this marvellous book, read it - you're in for a treat, but be warned: it may just take over your life!

I know this book is beloved and it was good, but there were some sections that were pretty uneventful. It was pretty slow paced, so it needs some patience. I can’t say I enjoyed it massively, but I can’t say it was bad either. I think you’d probably have to be a dark academia superfan to love this

It’s not often you read a book that utterly bewitches you. Sure, you can love a book, you can love many of them, but it is a rare thing indeed to find one that feels like it was written for only you to read, one that serves almost as a mirror, growing to inhabit your very being. For me, that was The Secret History, published in 1992, debut novel of 29-year-old Mississippi-born Donna Tartt, who actually began writing it a decade earlier while studying at Bennington College in Vermont. And frankly, I cannot believe I lived over nineteen years without it. The story is written from the point of view of Richard Papen, a quietly eccentric and reserved boy from the fictitious town of Plano in California who secures himself a place at the eclectic Hampden College far away in Vermont. Richard is an unusual narrator in that he exists not only as a means through which we can view the events unfolding in the story world but as a carefully crafted enigma in his own right for us to explore, wracked by a subconscious inferiority complex, bouts of loneliness and depression, and an obsession with beauty, that fierce, unchanging Platonic ‘Form’ shared by Nature’s harshest things (for khalepa ta kala, as Richard would say). Indeed, every character that Tartt weaves is so flawed, so brutally human, it is almost inconceivable that they are, in fact, not real, that, when reading, they are incapable of stepping right off the page into our “phenomenal” reality. The narrative opens with a short prologue written from some point in Richard’s future where he eerily reminisces about an event buried in his past of such traumatic magnitude that it became the only story he will ever be able to tell. We learn what it is in the very first line, the death of ‘Bunny’, and halfway down the page it becomes clear that Richard played a role in his murder. And so begins possibly the most captivating ‘whydunit’ of all time. I would even go as far as to say that it is one of the greatest books ever written. Hampden is at the same time intimately relatable, for any reader who has ever been to university far from home, but also enchantingly ethereal. The whole place has this otherworldly quality, which is only intensified when Richard has his fateful meeting with the five Ancient Greek students... He had been drawn to classical mythology throughout the barren wasteland of his childhood and discovered a proficiency for Ancient Greek later in life, so was keen to pursue it in college after so miraculously securing a place, probably being one of the poorest applicants Hampden had ever seen. But, when he approaches the fantastically eccentric Greek professor, Julian Morrow, who in many ways becomes the ‘senex’ or ‘sophos’ of the novel (I mean, he essentially is Socrates fallen through time), relatively early on in the narrative, he is told joining this notoriously elite class is quite impossible, despite there being only five students enrolled. These five students rapidly become Richard’s obsession, the enigmatic idols onto which all his fantasies are projected, representing for him the very epitome of grace, knowledge, and beauty: materialistic Edmund ‘Bunny’ Corcoran, the ‘epicene’ twins Charles and Camilla Macaulay, graceful Francis Abernathy, and, the most bewitching of them all, Henry Marchbanks Winter. They all speak Ancient Greek, they all exude a hostile superiority which paradoxically only makes them more intriguing, and they all harbour dark secrets embodied forever in the irresistible title of their story. Richard does finally manage to enroll in the class as a result of a fortuitous encounter in the library when he helps Bunny solve a tricky question around verb endings and essentially earns his place. This marks the beginning of what will become one of the most emotionally shattering tragedies since the great Athenian masters of Sophocles and Euripides (snubbing Shakespeare for the moment!). It all revolves around Henry’s infatuation with Dionysus, or ‘Bacchus’ in his more violent Roman form, god of fertility, harvest, wine, but more importantly, ritual madness and religious ecstasy. Unbeknownst to Richard, the others are swept along by Henry’s consuming desire to achieve a state of perfect bakkheia, an orgy-like frenzy, the ultimate spiritual, out-of-body, utterly enlightening experience so prized by the ancients, a cult Livy described as secretive, subversive, and potentially revolutionary. But it all goes horribly wrong and triggers a sequence of events that ultimately results in Bunny’s demise. Tartt leads us through such a convoluted moral maze that, utterly entangled in its thorny thickets, we end up advocating the execution of a boy who has become in many ways our own friend. It is a triumph in the sheer brilliance of its ruthlessness. One of the greatest pleasures of reading "The Secret History" is in the majesty of the prose itself. For a novel that hinges around two violent murders, it is bewitchingly philosophical. It is quite literally brimming with esoteric quotes in Latin and Greek, and constantly pays loving homage to Homer and Plato as well as dozens of other literary giants across the ages. Tartt’s intellect is staggering, you’ll find her quoting Rimbaud within the first few lines of the book. But none of these references are forced, instead her love for Greek mythology and literature itself suffuses The Secret History like beating veins. As John Mullan wrote in his 2013 article for The Guardian, ‘You are leaving the sublunary world behind and entering a realm of literary and linguistic riches. Outside the novel’s pages people are watching TV and talking in cliches, but within them you are in the company of the best that has been said and thought.’ It is an intoxicating experience. Richard is the classic lonely narrator, setting out from poor and depressing beginnings to completely recreate himself, quite literally conjuring a fictitous history to reinvent his past. He is insecure, reserved, but filled with dreams and fantasies that he projects onto Julian and his classmates in a narrative driven by a quiet passion, the kind that is more like lava-infused bedrock than wildfire. His first impressions of the five ethereal Greek students and their shining, unattainable world, this select group of Hellenophiles, erudite to a fault, are devastatingly juxtaposed against the truth; their real, human forms, warped by vice, arrogance, deceit, violence, desire. It is a tragedy of epic and ingenious proportions. And Henry is at the heart of it all, he is Plato marooned in the 20th century, an enigma: eccentric, conceited, captivating. From his studies of Arabic alchemy to his fatal obsession with Bacchus, he suffuses the story with an indescribable sheen of insidious intrigue. His story reflects only the very best Greek tragedies, with the fate of sorts established in the prologue leading to an escalation of fermenting issues. Ultimately, it is about the darkest shades of human nature, the Marquezian obsessions that destroy, consume, shatter. And throughout it all the love and veneration for Ancient Greece and Greek mythology and philosophy serves as the backbone of the novel. Aesthetic beauty, Romanticism, sexual self-exploration, social stratification, Dionysian expression, the nature of art, inferiority complexes breeding delusions of superiority, the destructive power of desire, guilt and jealousy, the inhumanity of humanity… these are all themes in the novel upon which thousands of words could be written. But perhaps above all of them is that greatest and most harrowing of truths: khalepa ta kala… beauty is harsh. Excerpt (no spoilers): “Death is the mother of beauty,” said Henry. “And what is beauty?” “Terror.” “Well said,” said Julian. “Beauty is rarely soft or consolatory. Quite the contrary. Genuine beauty is always quite alarming.” I looked at Camilla, her face bright in the sun, and thought of that line from the Iliad I love so much, about Pallas Athene and the terrible eyes shining. “And if beauty is terror,” said Julian, “then what is desire? We think we have many desires, but in fact we only have one. What is it?” “To live,” said Camilla. “To live forever,” said Bunny, chin cupped in palm. The teakettle began to whistle.

Great book, a classic. Unfortunately the book started loosing pages even before I reached the first half and it was difficult to keep it together..

Donna Tartt can scarcely be called prolific - last year saw the publication of her third novel [The Goldfinch] after a gap of ten years since its predecessor "The Little Friend"and twenty years after "The Secret History". I read "The Secret History" shortly after its publication and thought it was extraordinary. Having just re-read it I think that "extraordinary" falls rather too short of the mark! After all, who would have thought that a novel about a group of students studying the Greek and Roman classics could be so gripping? The story is narrated by Richard Papen, who recounts the events he experienced as a twenty year old student from a modest background in California who had enrolled in Hampden College, an exclusive institution in Vermont (apparently modelled upon Bennington College where Tartt herself studied during the 1980s). After a false start at his first college where he had started to study medicine, he embarks upon a humanities course but transfers to Classics, basically because he has become intrigued (almost to the point of obsession) with a small group of students who stand apart from the rest of the campus. This group consists of Henry, an extremely erudite, wealthy and rather aloof character who seldom seems aware of his immediate surroundings as he ponders aspects of Greek philosophy, Francis Abernethy, a flamboyant flanneur, twins Charles and Camilla McCaulay (as the book was published in 1992 there was no particular resonance of that pairing of names!) and the slightly dysfunctional Edmund Corcoran, known as Bunny. Together they study under the unorthodox and inspiring tutor, Julian Morrow, who encourages them to read widely and to immerse themselves in their subject. This encouragement to explore the classical world to the full proves unfortunate as an experiment to recapture the sensations of a Bacchanal go disastrously awry, and tensions within the group reach extreme levels. Richard Papen is an immensely likeable character, and his financial struggles merely to survive among his generally affluent fellow students are depicted very plausibly. The individual member of the group, and their tutor, are very clearly drawn, and the internal conflicts are all too readily believed. (Possible spoiler alert - I don't think this really constitutes a spoiler as it covers something that is referred to in the opening sentence of the Prologue of the book, but I thought I had better play safe and mention it.) The novel opens with Richard recalling the discovery of Bunny who "had been dead for several weeks", and it soon becomes clear how he had died, with the bulk of the novel left to cover the reasons why that had to happen. However, although the denouement comes at the start, the tension and excitement of the novel is maintained deftly, and the reader's attention never falters. What I find most amazing about this novel is the fact that it was Tartt's debut, and that she was only nineteen when she started writing it. She manages to blend a huge amount of classical erudition with a tautly-crafted suspense novel with a great deftness of touch.

Firstly, the 4 star rating is primarily awarded for tartt's wonderful writing, which is at times astonishingly good. The problem lies with the fact that there are substantial parts of the book which were irrelevant to the plot and spoiled the flow of the story. As someone else alluded to, tartt appears to be almost forcing the reader to recognise how wonderful she is, rather than getting on with the story. Most of the characters were 2 dimensional, pantomine inspired scribbles of people who didn't ring true for the most part. I know there are some weird people at every university, but these bookworms apparently didn't know that man had landed on the moon due simply to the fact that they didn't watch tv! As if the notion of space travel wouldn't have popped up in conversation with someone at some point in their 20 year existence! The amount of drink consumed by each student never got in the way of completing assignments and essays which stretched the boundaries of believability to breaking point. Despite these mis-judgements from tartt, she still managed to complete a book that will remain ingrained in my sub-conscious for a long, long time. I am at a loss to explain how she managed this, but I hold my hands up and admit that she is undeniably a great talent. The book ultimately needed to be about 150-200 pages shorter, and plausibility issues with some of her characters needed to be addressed. The final section of the book, though, was rich reward for not abandoning ship at an earlier stage.

Picture the scene: I'm laying by the pool in the Dominican Republic, a piña colada in hand, having just finished a Dorothy Koomson holiday read, the sun shining high in the azure blue sky. I reach for my next book: The Secret History by Donna Tartt, recommended by a good friend who has sung Tartt's praises sky high. I read the first few pages and am intrigued. I read the first few chapters...and I hate it. A few days later, we're on the plane home, and I'm still only on chapter five or six, having avoided reading it for the rest of the holiday. 'How is it?' asks the boyfriend. 'Urgh,' I say. 'I think I might give up on it, there's this long monologue going on about Dionysus and Greek philosophy and I'm lost, bored, and it really wasn't what I was expecting.' He kisses me in sympathy before smugly returning to The Shadow of the Wind. I read a few more pages before putting it away and going to sleep. Now, usually I'm of the ilk that life is too short to carry on reading a book that I am just not enjoying. My eyesight and my time are precious, and while I'm happy to read pretty much anything, I don't see the point on trudging through things that just aren't doing it for me. But the friend who recommended this usually has good taste, so I spent some time on Goodreads and Amazon, reading reviews. Some people, it is true, really hated this book, but the rave reviews outweighed them by a mile and I was surprised that so many people said they had read it eight, nine, ten times over. I wanted to know what the fuss was about, especially as I was too young to have been aware of the 90s hype it generated when it was published. So, for once, I persevered. And you know what? Slowly, it got better. It got so much better, over the course of its 600 pages, that in the end I couldn't put it down, and I was so swept up in it that it invaded my dreams as well as my waking consciousness. It got so much better, that I gave it five stars. Five star reviews from me are a rare thing. It got so much better, that when I turned the last page, I seriously considered just starting again, right away, at the very beginning. It's safe to say that this book is a slow burner, a slow starter, and it's not perfect by any means. It opens with the main plot point given away on the first page - the death of Bunny, murdered by his friends - and then takes the reader on an excruciatingly slow-motion journey to understand why this event came about. But by excruciating, I don't mean painful. It's excruciatingly brilliant. The narrator, Richard Papen, is something on a non-entity in the grand scheme of things. He's a bit of a yes-man, who wants to feel included by a group of elite Greek students at Hampden College following an unhappy upbringing in California. He's a bit average, a bit unlikeable, but a great choice of narrator, because his very blandness makes all the more interesting characters in the book even more interesting. And boy - they are interesting. There's Bunny, of course, who is already a corpse when the novel starts but who is brought back to life as we skip back to the events pre-murder, then Francis the Homosexual, the twins Charles and Camilla, and of course, Henry, the Dark Lord himself. Their Greek professor, Julian, is arguably the most fascinating character in the entire story, but is sadly under-developed. For me, Henry and Bunny steal the show. The story itself is dark, darker, darkest, with drugs, murder, intrigue, more drugs, quite a lot of alcohol, though not quite as much sex as one might imagine - although rest assured, that what little mention of sex there is also comes from a dark place. It's an admirable feat to create a cast of very unsympathetic, unlikeable characters, and still make you want to read on to find out what happens to them. Tartt's ability to set the scene and include the most minute details is astounding. I usually hate loads of description, but somehow it got to the point where I didn't want to miss a single word. I wasn't just reading about Hampden College; I was there, along with Richard, Henry and the rest, attending Greek classes and listening in on private conversations, soaking up every observation made by Richard as he finds out what his friends have really been up to and why they're planning to murder a member of their gang. I realise I am rambling here and not giving much away about the plot. To be honest, there isn't a lot to give away. Some people have criticised the slow plot, but for me it was like eating a delicious meal that you just don't want to end. It should be savoured, not devoured. Is it flawed? Undoubtedly so. It is easily 200 pages too long. It's sometimes a little repetitive. Not developing Julian's character properly was a massive error of judgement on Tartt's part. But for a debut novel, it's really something rather special. I've already bought The Goldfinch, because I'm not quite ready to let Donna Tartt go yet. But if I'm honest, The Secret History is already on my 'to be re-read' shelf. I can't wait to see if it gets even better on repeat.

I don’t know. I am conflicted. I have feelings. The writing was sublime, so sharp, engaging and entertaining. Perfection. The setting was moody and atmospheric with a group of pretentious, arrogant, intellectual misfits at the centre of it all. The first half of the book, or Book 1 as the story is set as 2 books or parts. The first half the book being absolutely the best thing since chocolate. I adored it - the dark, gothic backdrop of the this private liberal arts college in Vermont, our eccentric characters, the nostalgic feel to all of it (the way it was written and the dialogue that the characters used) The dark undertones and foreshadowing of the things to come. I also think it important to mention that this was first published in 1992 so I personally think it will strike a chord with those of us that remember life before the internet, home computers and mobile phones. Also, there were some problematic elements that were all in the opinion of the characters and everyone is allowed their own opinions of course, but there were some things that I came across where it didn’t surprise me at all that this book was written before and then published in 1992.But a lot of that is written in to add context to characters and their situations, in particular to highlight the perverse nature of power, affluence & influence and how it can taint the human condition to something ugly and unseemly; like the main characters being elitist and feeling they were untouchable because they were so smart. So, that said. The first half/part of the book was incredible. The second half....it went places that I wasn’t expecting. Which is good, I like to be taken outside of my normal thinking patterns and comfort zone but I felt it veered off for a bit and the whole funeral thing at the families house I think we could have done without as it was just filler - nothing particularly poignant happened, other than characters being introduced that had no bearing on the plot or the main characters. So, it was pointless. Also, there was excessive drug and alcohol abuse going on (TW) and smoking which I get adds to the characters state of mind and personality traits but I found it hard to reconcile the amounts consumed. The average mortal human being wouldn’t be able to function, let alone study or have any kind of clear cognitive ability. (And on this score I can honestly say that I know- I was a big party girl when I was backpacking) so all the smoking, drinking and drugs felt a bit ‘try hard’ to me & used as plot device unnecessarily. It also went off on wild tangents of taboo topics like incest and suicide. (TW) It’s all very cleverly written so it keeps you engaged which is great, but this book could have been shorter and still a great book worthy of the ‘modern classic’ title. And the ending?! Not a fan. And maybe it was a cheap trick to pull that last twist at the end and maybe it wasn’t. Just like the epilogue maybe that ending was a trick and maybe it wasn’t....Personally, I hate open endings & variables. I much prefer an ending. Doesn’t always have to be happy, but a conclusion to the story. Not some vague attempt at being speculative. But all in all, it’s a book that you can reread and get get different things from each time you read it and that is the Mark of a fantastic book. That’s why this is a 5 star and now an all time favourite. While the content was good, the writing & atmosphere was amazing and made reading this book such an enjoyable and immersive experience.

الكتاب تحفة وصل سليم وبدون أي خدوش

I didn't read it myself but the recipient was happy with it.

Há muito tempo não pego uma edição de livro tão gostosa de ler. O livro tem um tamanho ótimo, a fonte e as margens são ótimas, a diagramação faz com que a leitura seja rápida e muito prazerora. A trama é fantástica, envolvente e através do narrador em primeira pessoa, faz com que o leitor se sinta parte da história. Pessoas ruins fazendo coisas ruins, que parecem justificadas quando observadas através dos "rose tinted glasses" que o narrador estende aos seus amigos, a quem ele quase idolatra durante o livro 1. É interessante perceber a mudança de tom no segundo livro, onde a realidade dos acontecimentos começa a quebrar a perfeição e a aura mágica do grupo e todos os personagens, a sua maneira, demonstram suas falhas e a humanidade da qual não conseguem escapar.

Have you ever felt you’re going to miss characters from a book? Well, that’s how how I feel… just finished it and I already miss them. No book has hooked me so quickly. From page 1 I was already captured. I didn’t want to stop reading, all I was thinking for days was the book (I even dreamed about it). The story is not too fast (she definitely doesn’t rush it) but not too slow either. It takes you through it at the perfect pace to want to know but enjoy each moment at the same time. You feel the spaces, the ambient, the places. She writes in a way that absorbs you into the story. The way she writes in the 1st person you are not reading it, you are living it. And you feel connected with Richard (the main character), instantly. And the end!! There’s only one way to describe it: WHAT!! Find a nice corner, dimmed light and a calm playlist (classical is a perfect match if you ask me)… and enjoy it.

Sad. Long. But definitely worth the invested time. For some reason, I couldn't put this book down. Enjoy and reflect.