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!

Donna Tartt is a good writer of fiction but is she a great writer?No doubt history will be the judge of that.In The Secret History the author sets out her wares methodically and impressively from the start,she has obviously read a LOT of books.The text is littered with references to classical Greek,French,English and more literature. This knowledge is projected onto her cast of characters,the little clique of self absorbed privileged undergraduates and their tutor who live in this rarified world no one else may enter.They embark on a quest for something that will transcend their otherwise tedious world of booze,drugs,cigarettes and even their friendship.This leads to a life changing event and the fallout leads them to commit an unspeakable crime.The second half of the story deals with the disintegration of their relationships in trying to deal with the enormity of what they have done and to avoid being found out by the authorities.The ending of course will not be revealed here but i have a theory that the author left several clues along the way such that if these naive and self centered youngsters had put two and two together earlier on they could have saved themselves and others a whole lot of pain and angst.Perhaps i am stating the obvious there but i found it gave the story a bit more depth to think about a different possible outcome and that the author could have developed it more but hey it's her book not mine.All in all an engrossing book,not having had a university(violins) education some of the references went over my head but we have all been young and a lot of the themes do resonate and at times in a beautifully described way.It somehow reminded me of The Magus which made a big impression on me in my youth but,still i can't help picturing Bunny if he had seen Carry On Cleo quoting Kenneth William's Caesar ,"infamy,infamy they've all got it in for me".It's good to read.

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.

I did like those book. It was well-researched and well-considered. However, it's not the classic or life changing read that other Reviews suggest. Perhaps the biggest challenge I have is that none of key characters have any likeable traits. They all seem too entitled, too ungrateful or too smug and patronising with their elite intellect. On that basis, you have little or no sympathy with any of them as the drama unfolds. This next comment may also say more about me, and I'm OK with that, but the version I read was 629 pages long. The story rambled on and on and in hindsight, all that could have been said and should have been said, could have been better wrapped up, in 400 pages. Everything that happens after that, just seems excessive and self indulgent. Bit like a 3 hour movie, when you just know that the last 45-60 minutes represents either the Director's indecision or artistic indulgence, to the detriment of the weary audience. Lastly, and once you realise this, it's so difficult to "unrealise" this and not stiffle a laugh, but I've read a book with so many scenes or references to sleeping, dozing, bed and dreaming. I know that they're students, but the sleeping references could form a separate book of their own. One of the characters actually mentions how much one of the others sleeps on page 250. You're not wrong, sister!! So, it was a good read, but boy did the last 200 pages drag on, all spent in the company of some fairly irksome and selfish characters.

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.

A hard read , small writing , very long chapters but worth it in the end

Fascinating and so beautifully written. The characters feel as real as people I’ve known in life. Just incredible story telling.

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.