The Secret History (Vintage Contemporaries)

The moment I know I’ll love a book is when I’m going about my everyday life and, suddenly, tiny occurrences pleasantly jerk my mind back to the book’s world. It’s been days since I finished Donna Tartt’s The Secret History (1992) and I still find myself constantly daydreaming about this exquisite novel. The curious thing is that I didn’t love The Secret History the way I love most books I read. I didn’t sit in bed overnight reading just to reach the end and expecting a big twist or climax (which, to my pleasant surprise, it had), only to be momentarily relieved or disappointed before closing the book and returning to reality. As many readers have admitted before me, what kept me engrossed in this book was not what was going to happen, but how it would happen. Inexplicably, I wanted to live and breathe in that world, to stay in it for as long as possible and cling to every word and thought as much as I could. For that reason, I devoured it slowly—about three weeks passed until I’d read the book from start to finish. And still I can’t explain the emptiness after finishing, or the feeling that it’ll be hard to find a book that moves me in quite the same way this one did. The book centers on the recollections of Richard Papen regarding his dark experiences at the fictional Hampden College, a small liberal arts college in Vermont. Richard, a self-conscious and naïve student from a blue-collar background in Plano, California, arrives at Hampden with merely a suitcase and a desire to escape his miserable childhood home. At Hampden, Richard is, after some time and effort, accepted into the highly exclusive Classics major under the patriarchal and eccentric Professor Julian Morrow. Through the small group’s weekly meetings reminiscent of a secret society (there are merely 6 students in the major), he falls in with the cluster of seemingly unapproachable, picturesque scholars whose souls seem to have stepped out of an ancient Greek play. There’s group leader Henry Winter, tall and brooding, a clever linguist always sporting a suit. The others are red-haired and elegant Francis Abernathy, spritely and enigmatic twins Charles and Camilla Macaulay, and jovial, freeloading Edmund “Bunny” Corcoran. To fit in, Richard invents a backstory packed with Californian wealth, despite being the only one without family connections or a stable financial background. While submersed in the intellectual beauty of his studies and peers, combined with their frequent visits to Francis’ family’s empty, historic, relic-filled country house, Richard seems to be living a Classic dream come true. But after a bizarre, Dionysian bacchanal (basically a drug-induced, spiritual orgy in the woods) ends in both an accidental and, eventually, a premeditated murder, Richard begins to realize that his childish and somewhat shallow infatuation with the group may not be enough for him to swallow their treasure chest of dark secrets. After reading merely the first sentence, we are told (what we believe to be) the book’s climax. But what we don’t know is why or how their lives will fall apart, one by one, as if on the Devil’s very own hit list, as a result of a single moment in time. Ultimately, Richard’s superficial obsession to fit in, his “morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs,” proves to be not only his fatal flaw, as he himself admits, but his doorway into a dark, living, breathing world of heartache, melancholy, and never-ending nightmares. I’ll start by saying that I am by no means proficient in or even familiar with the Classics. I’m aware of the basics, of the idea of a “fatal flaw” and such, but not enough to feel comfortable writing about them with confidence. Therefore, for those of you debating whether to read this book because of this element, I can tell you now—the substance is not in this aspect, but in the character development and plot. The book does in many ways parallel a Greek tragedy, and those who are familiar with Classics will likely have an enhanced reading experience. However, by no means does it exclude readers without this background. The emphasis is strongly on the deterioration of a group of friends, not on Greek philosophy. Now, most critics of the book are quick to attack its seemingly pretentious aura, claiming that real 90’s college students would never talk like these do (“For a few minutes—goodness, how confusing this was—I thought of digging a grave but then I realized it would be madness” is an actual quote from a student) dress in European suits, or smoke 500 cigarette packs a day while they throw back expensive whiskey like its water. They’d never skip a college party of free-flowing beer, fluorescent lights, and sticky floors to sit in a country house and practice the box step, or discuss “whether Hesiod’s primordial Chaos was simply empty space or chaos in the sense of the modern world” while they play cards. But in a sense, I beg to differ. Yes, these characters can be slightly exaggerated, mostly in the first half of the book, which details their frequent gatherings and esoteric conversations (towards the end they notably start speaking in more colloquial terms). Yes, they can be irritating, despicable, and downright disturbing at times. But to be honest, this never bothered me as I was reading—in fact, it made the book even more fascinating. If you can’t handle some deliciously evil characters that pose as charming members of society, you probably won’t like many books out there. I see this pompousness as merely a way of cynically showing us that these students, with superficially beautiful minds and faces, with a seemingly supreme moral compass, are not only flawed and human, but often much worse than that. The premature deification of the group only serves to make their fall from grace that much more powerful, sad, and disquieting. Another point of contention regarding the novel is its tendency to ramble, to spend precious time illustrating minute details of the characters’ personalities, surroundings, thoughts, etc. Once again, this is true to a certain extent. This book is not written as an action novel or crime thriller, where everything is based on people running around solving things or shooting guns. If you can’t stand description and only want action, this book may not be for you. But to me, Tartt creates a world that’s tangible, where every description explains things so poignantly that you often feel you couldn’t have worded it better yourself. Yes, there are many words, but every word is there for a reason if you stop to examine it. And Tartt’s talent shines not only in her prose, but in her timing and in her ability to develop tension such that each secret revealed seems like a bomb dropped, no matter how small. It’s is the juxtaposition of the realistic ambiance and the perfectly timed reveals that, for me, makes The Secret History so moving and so difficult to leave. As a reader, you feel Richard’s nostalgia the way you recall your own sharp childhood memories that you long to go back to, and the way you often stop to consider the other paths that your life could’ve taken if only things had been different. I rarely experience emotions this strong when reading any book, and as much as I’d like to I can’t put my finger on what exactly about this book did it for me—and in that same way, I can’t guarantee the same for every reader. But I can say that if you’re looking for an intellectual, modern classic, a haunting psychological thriller, a mix between Lord of the Flies, The Perks of Being a Wallflower, and Dead Poets Society, or simply a book that will linger in your mind as you lay in bed each night — it’s sitting right in front of you.

I’ve never read anything quite like this book. At times I found it a bit slow but at the same time I couldn’t put it down. It left me confused in a good way and since I’ve finished it I miss it. I think I loved it? But I’m not sure that I’d recommend it to a friend. If you read it you’ll understand what I mean. There are many layers to this book and it was beautifully written

Under rated. Great writing. Glad I read it. You should read it too. Is that 16 words? They want three more words.

The Secret History is an engagingly written study of a group of students at a Vermont liberal arts college as seen through the eyes of the protagonist, Richard Papen. The key characters are members of a selective group of students chosen by an eccentric professor to study in his Classics program. They are erudite, witty and often obnoxiously condescending. Papen is a pretender to the ethereal, aristocratic society that characterizes this Eastern elitist group, being an upstart from humble California origins who creates a false background while obfuscating his true origins as a secret history. The group is almost a cult, and seem to exist in a gossamer world that would fit comfortably with Sebastian Flyte and his cronies at Oxford. The sense of timelessness is enhanced by plot devices, such as reference to the counter culture underground at the college as "hippies", bringing to mind the turbulent 1960s. One of the characters uses a straight razor, which beckons the 1930s if not some earlier time. A minor panic at the college produces an overload of the college switchboard as students attempt to call out from the isolated Vermont environment. Pay phones and phones in apartments are the means of communication. These allusions suggest an earlier, more quaint time that would make a excellent setting for the type of dark character study that evolves. However, this story, like Billy Pilgrim in Slaughterhouse 5, appears to be unstuck in time. And therein lies the rub. While the temporal setting is not specifically stated, the story takes place in 2008. This can be deduced from a minor character who early on remarks about his well-maintained, 10-year old 1998 car. This creates problems with an essential element of the plot: communications or miscommunications. Why does no one on this campus have cell phones? This might be plausible for the Classics Nerds who worship Delphi, but what about everyone else at the college? A number of sticky situations become ludicrous with the existence of cell phones. Students in 2008 do not use land lines. They Tweet each other. And why do none of the students have laptops? Again, the Classics students might be excused, but everyone else on the campus appears to lack this fundamental tool as well. However, the most disturbing point occurs when a key revelation to the classics professor arises from a typed letter that has a tell-tale letterhead. A typed letter? Few if any students in 2008 have seen a typewriter, much less used one. I doubt that a typewriter ribbon could be purchased, except perhaps as an antique on Ebay. For a story that has meticulous descriptions of conversations in Greek, where Homer and Tacitus are quoted fluently, where there are exquisite descriptions of style, taste and architecture, these blunders are monumental and detract mightily from the credibility of the tale. If one can dismiss such faux-pas, the story is interesting.

Wow, this sure has very unlikable characters who are selfish, yet I liked TSH a lot! I can't believe this has been on my reading list for too long. I'm mind-blown. The author's writing is so compelling with its eerie and mysterious tone and setting. I envisioned the atmosphere of the college and town perfectly as it was quite descriptive. The characters are well-developed. The main protagonist, Richard, narrates the story. Wanting to join a Classics course, he meets a group of rich students who are misfits and tries to fit in himself. Ultimately, he joins this group of people but at a huge cost. After the death of one of the students, Richard and the rest of the group attempt to deal with the aftermath, which soon spirals out of control. The only area I expected more of was Julian, their professor since I thought he was going to be a big focus of the book. Overall, a very good read! Still can't get over the ending! Was not expecting that. Going to add this to my faves list. ☆ 4 stars

I loved this book, and I think many readers miss the story it’s actually telling. Beneath the surface plot, there’s a deeper, more unsettling layer that completely changed the way I experienced it. Donna Tartt’s The Secret History begins as a campus novel about a small, insular group of classics students who seem, at first, almost impossibly elegant and self‑contained. Through the narrator’s eyes, they appear brilliant, mysterious, and slightly unreal — the kind of people who seem to belong to another world entirely. As the story unfolds, the book reveals a far more complex reality beneath that polished surface. Tartt gradually exposes the emotional fragility within the group: the insecurity, the fear, the immaturity, and the way their carefully constructed world depends on everyone maintaining the same delicate illusion. One of the novel’s most striking elements is the presence of a character whose energy is chaotic, disruptive, and strangely vital. He brings warmth, unpredictability, and a kind of unruly life into the group — and the way the others respond to him reveals far more about their own vulnerabilities than about him. The group’s fascination with the ancient world occasionally slips into moments that feel ritualistic — not in a literal sense, but in the way youthful intensity can accidentally brush against something larger than itself. The classical imagery on the cover echoes this atmosphere without giving anything away. What makes The Secret History linger isn’t the plot itself, but the way Tartt uses atmosphere, psychology, and a subtly unreliable narrator to explore the dangers of wanting to belong too badly. It’s a novel about illusions — the ones we cast on others, and the ones we cast on ourselves — and what happens when those illusions begin to crack. Elegant, haunting, and quietly devastating, it’s a story that reveals its truest shape only to readers willing to look past the surface.

This book kept me hooked all throughout. The writing is beautiful with so many sentences that I want to remember forever. Character development is top notch. There are some disturbing scenes but they are crucial to the story. Highly recommend reading it.

Published in 1992 this book is famous (infamous?) for providing impetus to the "dark academia" movement - if it can be called that. The story is, more or less, fashioned after a Greek tragedy with deeply flawed characters ultimately facing the consequences of their decisions and actions. Indeed, the characters are grim - they aren't decent human beings at all. The story is not uplifting so it's not a good choice if you are looking for something to improve your mood. There is a lot of alcohol, drugs, and perversity in the story - which is more or less required to get on the New York Times bestselling list. In that respect the story hits all the right notes. There are a few things that are unrealistic - one is the sway one of the characters has over the others, another is that the story takes place at a university, but the "students" seem to study or attend class very little and still manage to matriculate term after term. Of course, writing about students studying would not be interesting reading. Finally, if any college student consumed as much alcohol as depicted by the characters in this story, they would have died of alcohol poisoning before the second term. All that said, the prose is superb. Sooth as butter, the writing whisks you into the story and keeps you engrossed until the end. In fact, The Secret History is so well written that you almost forget you are reading. So, did I like the story? No. Was I entertained and captivated? Yes. I'd have preferred at least one decent, incorruptible, semi-Tom Bombadil type character to shed some light and hope. As it is, Francis was right when he said, "I am looking forward to asking him why the hell he didn't just shoot us all and get it over with."

الكتاب تحفة وصل سليم وبدون أي خدوش

I didn't read it myself but the recipient was happy with it.

Há muito tempo não pego uma edição de livro tão gostosa de ler. O livro tem um tamanho ótimo, a fonte e as margens são ótimas, a diagramação faz com que a leitura seja rápida e muito prazerora. A trama é fantástica, envolvente e através do narrador em primeira pessoa, faz com que o leitor se sinta parte da história. Pessoas ruins fazendo coisas ruins, que parecem justificadas quando observadas através dos "rose tinted glasses" que o narrador estende aos seus amigos, a quem ele quase idolatra durante o livro 1. É interessante perceber a mudança de tom no segundo livro, onde a realidade dos acontecimentos começa a quebrar a perfeição e a aura mágica do grupo e todos os personagens, a sua maneira, demonstram suas falhas e a humanidade da qual não conseguem escapar.

Have you ever felt you’re going to miss characters from a book? Well, that’s how how I feel… just finished it and I already miss them. No book has hooked me so quickly. From page 1 I was already captured. I didn’t want to stop reading, all I was thinking for days was the book (I even dreamed about it). The story is not too fast (she definitely doesn’t rush it) but not too slow either. It takes you through it at the perfect pace to want to know but enjoy each moment at the same time. You feel the spaces, the ambient, the places. She writes in a way that absorbs you into the story. The way she writes in the 1st person you are not reading it, you are living it. And you feel connected with Richard (the main character), instantly. And the end!! There’s only one way to describe it: WHAT!! Find a nice corner, dimmed light and a calm playlist (classical is a perfect match if you ask me)… and enjoy it.

Sad. Long. But definitely worth the invested time. For some reason, I couldn't put this book down. Enjoy and reflect.