The Goldfinch

“And there was something festive and happy about the two of us, hurrying up the steps beneath the flimsy candy-striped umbrella, quick quick quick, for all the world as if we were escaping something terrible instead of running right into it.” 

As Theo and Audrey rush into the Met, they are rushing toward her death. Here, Theo touches on the theme of order and chaos. On the one hand, this one seemingly random choice leads to Audrey’s death. On the other hand, this move could have been fated, setting in motion the trajectory of Theo’s ensuing life. 

“The living room—normally so airy and open, buoyant with my mother’s presence—had shrunk to a cold, pale discomfort, like a vacation house in winter: fragile fabrics, scratchy sisal rug, paper lamp shades from Chinatown and chairs too little and light.” 

Tartt fills the novel with sensory details regarding objects and the settings they occupy. Without Audrey, the apartment that was once so comforting to Theo now feels lifeless. All the objects shift as a result of Audrey’s loss, and Theo notes the difference.

“In the evenings, couples dressed for dinner congregated over wine and fizzy water in the living room, where the flower arrangements were delivered every week from a swanky Madison Avenue florist and the newest issues of Architectural Digest and The New Yorker were fanned just so on the coffee table.” 

This description gives a hint of the Barbours’ apartment on Park Avenue. It is opulent and curated to be as beautiful as possible. Theo is thrust into a completely new environment, one that hosts New York’s high society. Though it is beautiful, Theo does not feel that he fits in there.

“Over and over, I kept thinking I’ve got to go home and then, for the millionth time, I can’t.” 

Theo feels supremely displace after the death of his mother. He is forced to leave his apartment, which has always been his home. Though he now lives with the Barbours, he does not feel that he can relax. Now, and for the rest of the novel, Theo’s sense of home is highly fractured. 

“I had taken to carrying the old man’s ring with me almost everywhere I went.”

Welty’s ring is a significant object in the novel. Theo senses this and keeps it close to his person. It is an object of destiny, one that eventually brings Theo to Hobart and Blackwell, which becomes his home. Here, the object could be one of either fate or randomness, but it is definitely one that ushers in the next stage of Theo’s life. 

“The shock of his death felt new, as if I’d failed him a second time and it was happening all over again from a completely different angle.” 

Throughout the novel, the theme of loss repeats itself. When Theo goes to see Hobie, Welty’s death seems to occur again in a fresh way. Thus, Theo is stuck in a sort of traumatic feedback loop. Death repeats itself through memory, suggesting that he cannot escape it.  

“Things had gotten too slow all of a sudden; it was as if I’d forgotten how to breathe properly; over and over I found myself holding my breath, then exhaling raggedly and too loudly.” 

When Theo is with Pippa, he feels completely overwhelmed. These lines speak to his deep obsession with her, which in turns creates a physical response. He feels that he is fated to be with Pippa, and as a result, he finds it hard to function under the weight of his devotion and feelings of destiny. 

“I liked him because he treated me as a companion and conversationalist in my own right.” 

Theo comments on his growing bond with Hobie. Unlike his rather distant relationship with Mrs. Barbour, his relationship with Hobie is one of closeness and mutual respect. With Hobie, Theo feels that he can relax and behave in a way that is true to himself. 

“He had ridden a camel; he had eaten witchetty grubs, played cricket, caught malaria, lived on the street in Ukraine […] set off a stick of dynamite by himself, swum in the Australian rivers infested with crocodiles.” 

Here, Theo describes Boris, who is one of the most interesting people Theo has ever met. As with many chaotic characters, Boris is very charming and entrancing. Theo is overwhelmed by Boris’s many experience and abilities, and this draws Theo further and further into Boris’s chaos. 

“Often at night, when I was overwhelmed with the strangeness of where I was, I lulled myself to sleep by thinking of his workshop, rich smells of beeswax and rosewood shavings, and then the narrow stairs up to the parlor, where dusty sunbeams shone on oriental carpets.” 

When Theo is in the unfamiliar, unwelcoming setting of Las Vegas, he soothes himself by thinking of Hobie’s house. This location in New York is a locus of comfort for him. It also hosts Hobie’s antiques, a form of art that also gives Theo comfort and sense of engagement. 

“But we were so attuned to each other that we didn’t need to talk at all if we didn’t want to; we knew how to tip each other over into hysterics with an arch of an eyebrow or quirk of the mouth.” 

These lines point to the close relationship Theo has with Boris. In many ways, it feels effortless, as the two are deeply attuned to each other. This is the positive side of the relationship pitted against the darker aspect of violence and deceit. 

“Quickly I slid it out, and almost immediately its glow enveloped me, something almost musical, an internal sweetness that was inexplicable beyond a deep, blood-rocking harmony of rightness, the way your heart beat slow and sure when you were with a person you felt safe with and loved.” 

Theo describes his feeling about the Goldfinch when he looks at it in Las Vegas. In this new, unwelcoming setting, the painting gives him a feeling of solace. It is also like a person, a friend that makes one feel at ease and loved. These lines speak to the way in which the painting fills some of the space left by Audrey’s death. 

“In profile her downcast eyes were long, heavy-lidded, with a tenderness that reminded me of the angels and page boys in the Northern European Masterworks book.” 

The novel contains many physical descriptions of Pippa, such as this one. Theo tends to fetishize her as an art object. Here, he makes a clear connection between Pippa and an actual painting. He at once elevates her and also dehumanizes her by making her into an object to be observed. 

“I was soothed by the house, its sense of safety and enclosure: old portraits and poorly lit hallways, loudly ticking clocks.” 

Theo reconnects to a sense of home after leaving Las Vegas. Hobie’s house and shop have always provided Theo with a feeling of safety and security. Setting plays a significant role in the novel, and Hobie’s house is one of the few places that Theo feels truly comfortable and secure after his experience with Boris and Larry. 

“Spring in New York was always a poisoned time for me, a seasonal echo of my mother’s death blowing in with the daffodils, budding trees and blood splashes.” 

Even though Theo is now in his twenties, he is still haunted by Audrey’s death. Since he has not worked through his trauma, it still has a hold on him. He is not able to fully engage with loss because he is still suffering the effects of this loss. 

“An object—any object—was worth whatever you could get somebody to pay for it.” 

Theo discusses his illegal dealings with antiques buyers. He speaks to the mutability of value and the tension between what is real and what is fake. It almost does not matter if the object is genuine; it only matters how the viewer perceives it.

“She was the missing kingdom, the unbruised part of myself I’d lost with my mother.” 

Theo speaks these lines about Pippa. After Audrey’s death, Theo has been trying to fill the void she left. Pippa becomes a significant object of fixation and devotion. Theo believes that if he finally is with Pippa, he will recover what he lost when Audrey died. 

“In the shadows the mummified bundle—what little was visible—had a ragged, poignant, oddly personal look, less like an inanimate object than some poor creature bound and helpless in the dark, unable to cry out and dream of rescue.” 

Here, Theo personifies the painting. It is not so much an object as an imprisoned person. Through this description, Tartt draws a parallel between the painting and Theo himself. Because Theo has repressed his grief and trauma, it is as if he is tied up and gagged, unable to work through his issues. 

“Fear, idolatry, hoarding. The delight and terror of the fetishist.” 

Theo speaks to his extreme fixation on the painting. Throughout the novel, his character is subject to the tendency to fetishize both objects and people. He places extreme significance on the object of the painting because it symbolizes many things to him, such as security and an ability to transcend his circumstances.  

“There’s a doubleness. You see the mark, you see the paint for the paint, and also the living bird.” 

Horst reflects on the nature of art. The Goldfinch is at once reality and illusion. It is a dead object yet also a living bird. In this way, he points to the power of art. It can transcend both categories by existing in a realm that rejects the need to be either real or fake.

“Stay away from the ones you love too much. Those are the ones who will kill you.” 

Boris gives Theo this piece of advice when discussing both Kitsey and Pippa. Here, Pippa is the one Theo loves intensely. She represents chaos and also his past trauma. To Boris, it is wise to avoid this level of intensity because it is not productive or sustainable. This is ironic as Boris himself is a chaotic individual who causes destruction.  

“Everywhere: strangeness. Without noticing it I’d left reality and crossed the border into some no-man’s-land where nothing made sense. Dreaminess, fragmentation.” 

Boris has forced Theo symbolically into another dimension. While in Amsterdam, Theo feels like he is in a dream world when he is about to recover the painting. In a sense, he leaves the relative order of his life in New York and crosses into the chaotic world of crime and art theft.  

“There was a sense of being past everything, of looking back at land from an ice flow drifted out to sea […] I was gone.” 

Theo reflects on the nature of his existence after he kills Martin. He loses a sense of himself—he feels supremely insignificant. It as if the act itself does not matter, as all human actions do not matter. In this instance, Theo adheres to a nihilistic view of existence, fully embracing chaos.