100 Books to Read poster Number 17

 

Just breaking up the extended 'what we did on our holidays' posts by catching up with the reading poster.

This one was The Secret History by Donna Tartt. This is  the second book of Ms Tartt's that I have started and the first one I have finished. I can't help feeling that if this one hadn't appeared on the poster then the score line would be a symmetrical Started 2 Given up on 2. But there it was and it had to be finished.

There were many many rhapsodical quotes on the cover of this book from people whose opinion I generally respect so I can only assume that it is better than I thought it was. Apparently amongst other things  it's a fine and meticulous study of remorse. Really? Well OK then. 

There were many things I didn't like about this book and the first one was its length.  It was ridiculously B-L-O-A-T-E-D.  A decent editor could have cut it by about 50% and the book would have been better for it. The second was that not one person in it was likeable. When did it become acceptable, no, fashionable even, to write novels in which no-one has a single redeeming feature? I loathed everyone in this book, including the narrator, and could only wish that the remorse had led to a mass suicide at the end, instead of the reader being presented with a lame epilogue which told you what everyone was doing, including several characters whose part in the narrative had been so minor that I had forgotten who they were, some twenty years later. Yawn. 

And most importantly the two central events were just so non-credible. Especially the first. Obviously this is a no spoiler space, on the off chance that anyone who reads this might be spurred on to read the book itself, so I can't say what it was. Except that it was risible. 

Reading this represents quite  a lot of hours of my life that  won't get back, and I rather resent that.  In the spirit of searching out small mercies however I did at least get it from the library so I didn't waste any money buying it. It is though a resounding Miss.