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A review by emmakhend
The Secret History by Donna Tartt
challenging
dark
mysterious
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
I have put off reading this book for years. Donna Tartt is one of the quintessential authors of the campus novel. The Secret History is one of those books that can either take you weeks to finish or just a few days. I, luckily, fell into the second category. The prose itself is immersive—decadent, even. Tartt writes with a dark, lyrical quality that makes you feel as if you’re right there in the small, suffocating world of Hampden College.
The characters are genuinely awful human beings—terrible in almost every way. Genuinely. But that doesn’t make them any less enjoyable to read about. What makes this book digestible, despite the characters’ flaws, is that they’re all grounded in reality. If you’ve ever been to a small liberal arts college, you’ve probably encountered a Richard, Henry, Bunny, Francis, Camilla, or Charles.
This is nothing new: coked-out academics and wealthy, apathetic young adults. These are the students you despise when they raise their hands in socratic seminars. They’re the ones who casually quote Greek philosophers in everyday conversation, like it’s normal to wax poetic about Plato over brunch. You know the type—drenched in privilege, floating through life with a kind of ironic detachment, as if they’re above the mundane concerns of the rest of us. But that’s the charm, isn’t it?
So, what happens when these familiar archetypes commit murder? The answer: a complete dissolution of mind and body; self-destruction in its most romantic form.
It’s hard to even say if these friends particularly liked each other. Their friendships seem less like bonds of genuine affection and more like conveniences that teeter on the edge of disdain, held together by a shared pretense of intellectualism and a sense of superiority over the "common people." This is not a book about likable characters or redeeming qualities; it's about what happens when people with far too much privilege and not enough conscience are pushed to the brink.
By the end of this, you realize you’ve been justifying murder for 500 pages. It’s insane but so good.
The characters are genuinely awful human beings—terrible in almost every way. Genuinely. But that doesn’t make them any less enjoyable to read about. What makes this book digestible, despite the characters’ flaws, is that they’re all grounded in reality. If you’ve ever been to a small liberal arts college, you’ve probably encountered a Richard, Henry, Bunny, Francis, Camilla, or Charles.
This is nothing new: coked-out academics and wealthy, apathetic young adults. These are the students you despise when they raise their hands in socratic seminars. They’re the ones who casually quote Greek philosophers in everyday conversation, like it’s normal to wax poetic about Plato over brunch. You know the type—drenched in privilege, floating through life with a kind of ironic detachment, as if they’re above the mundane concerns of the rest of us. But that’s the charm, isn’t it?
So, what happens when these familiar archetypes commit murder? The answer: a complete dissolution of mind and body; self-destruction in its most romantic form.
It’s hard to even say if these friends particularly liked each other. Their friendships seem less like bonds of genuine affection and more like conveniences that teeter on the edge of disdain, held together by a shared pretense of intellectualism and a sense of superiority over the "common people." This is not a book about likable characters or redeeming qualities; it's about what happens when people with far too much privilege and not enough conscience are pushed to the brink.
By the end of this, you realize you’ve been justifying murder for 500 pages. It’s insane but so good.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Alcoholism, Homophobia, Racial slurs, Racism, Violence, and Murder
Moderate: Animal death, Drug use, Gun violence, Incest, Blood, and Antisemitism
Minor: Eating disorder and Rape
This book is DARK. But, the narrator's apathy makes it digestible. Richard's blasé attitude towards the events in this book make it easier to read.