The goldfinch book free5/7/2023 It’s relatively equal parts, it’s gritty drug drama, crime mystery, modern Milesian tale,philosophical meditation on the consolation of art and compulsion, and, in large part, a love letter to New York. Here’s my brief summary of the near 800-page work: Theo, a thirteen-year-old boy, loses his mother in a tragic accident, which then sets a series of catastrophic (or maybe fateful) events into effect, all of which resolve themselves by book’s end. (I’ll do my best to keep it spoiler-free, but all the same, proceed with caution.) That said, it brought up a ton of questions for me concerning some of the nastier conditions of life-obsession, loss, survival, self-definition, the points at which social narratives fail us-it did, in other words, what a great book does: it questioned the hard stuff and did so in an imaginative way. If it weren’t the winner of a prize that is so foundational to the arts and humanities in the U.S., I don’t know that I would recommend it right off. I’m glad I read it-at the very least, it makes me feel more culturally relevant to have read the most recent Pulitzer Prize winner-but I can’t say I loved it. I hated it, then I loved it, then I kinda liked it, hated it, hated it more, then absolutely loved it. Wow, reading this book truly was an anxious-making experience.
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