WeaveReads

Donna Tartt’s The Secret History is one of those stories that sticks with you long after you’re done reading. In some cases, the novel is found unsettling yet enticingly captivating; others are spent wondering what exactly happened within the 600+ pages they’d just read. I’m a mixture of the two. The best comparison I can make is The Secret History is like a friendly gathering of people who know each other — one that I was lucky enough to be invited to — but when I arrive, I end up being chased out without my antipasto salad. (Please tell me someone gets the TikTok reference, I can’t be the only one chronically online.)

I gave it 4.5 stars (4 rounded down) because, while I found it hard to stop reading, there were a handful of instances where the ambiguity felt less intentional, and left me more confused.

At its core, the story follows Richard as he journeys from sunny California to the much harsher climate of Vermont, joining a tight-knit group of students studying Greek. (After reading Amanda Montell’s Cultish, I try very hard not to immediately attach “cult” as an identifier, but I fear the Greek scholars might fall into that category.) It gave me The Perks of Being a Wallflower vibes, but with a darker narrative and a classicist obsession with beauty and debauchery. In many ways, Richard is a wallflower: mostly hanging back, watching and allowing the events to unfold around him, filtering what the readers know through his sometimes-questionable perspective.

The plot splits evenly between the two books, with the first half highlighting the intense FOMO Richard and Bunny feel as they orbit Henry and the others. By the second half, we are centered onto the aftermath of the murder(s) — I find it interesting how little focus is devoted to the other murders/killings in the story, other than Bunny’s of course — no longer concerned with anything other than guilt, misunderstandings, and moral decay.

What I enjoyed the most from this novel was how deeply readers were drawn into Richard’s disorienting headspace: we are never fully in the know. For the majority of the novel, this works to make readers complicit, forced to solely observe alongside Richard as things shatter around him. But other times, it left me wanting more clarity. As poetic and sophisticated as Henry was, I will never understand the group’s unquestioned loyalty to him. (JUST SAY WHAT YOU MEAN, stop speaking in riddles, you ass. /lh) And I won’t get started on Julian — the relationship between Henry and his professor felt like it ran much deeper than was revealed within the book.

Honestly, I think The Secret History achieved what it meant to. It makes you feel like one of the students outside Henry and Richard’s circle, out of our depth but still seduced by their grandeur all the same.