The Little Friend
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Meh. Don’t bother. I wanted to be more positive because I love and respect Donna Tartt with all of my heart, but this is not the Tartt that’s worth your time. I’ve reviewed two of her previous works and they’re infinitely better. The Goldfinch is one of my favorite books of all time and The Secret History isn’t far behind. Go read those reviews and buy those books. But also stay for this review, in honor of me, since I’m doing the Lord’s work.
The Little Friend is 630 pages of a pseudo-murder mystery that’s actually just a singularly-focused, character-driven novel. A boy mysteriously dies and then his baby sister dedicates her life to revenge. Sure, she’s a nuanced character with an interesting backstory, but there’s a lot left on the table…unnecessarily so.
Soooo much remains unfinished in very unsatisfying ways. Lots of loose threads that I kept waiting to be picked up. Lots of build up and potential that remained unacknowledged. Half-assed character development that led exactly nowhere (Allison?? Hely?? Farish?? Daniel??). The more I write, the more I actively dislike this book. The things that I love about Tartt–her commitment to a long, drawn-out storyline because she wants to develop the characters in the process– were simply not present here (she was only focused on ONE mildly interesting character), AND there wasn’t a payoff because we don’t even know who offed the kid.
This book receives 2 out of 5 flames. It gets 2 as opposed to 1 because she is a good writer, this just isn’t a good story.
