Let me begin by saying that this book will always have a special place in my heart. This book is heavily set in New York, and I read a great chunk of it while I was in New York. Because of that, everything just felt more vivid and real. I will always associate The Goldfinch with my trip to the U.S. and because of that, I will always love it. 
 That being said, it wasn't great great. For me The Secret History is superior (much, much so) to it. A lot of it was unnecessary and it was tad bit indulgent. There were bits (many bits, actually) that dragged. I lost interest in many parts. Tartt's writing is great, of course - I absolutely admire her writing style. The way she interweaves words is such a pleasure to read and I think in that sense, I will always be a fan. But something just didn't click for me in The Goldfinch. There were parts that I loved (Theo's interactions with Pippa and Kitsey are delightful), and I loveeee Boris. His time in Vegas was good to read too. But throughout the whole book I kept on waiting for, you know, that moment. That moment when you know you're holding a masterpiece - the moment when you know that you are just the luckiest to have picked up this great book. 
 It never happened. 
 That's not to say it wasn't good in its own right. The Goldfinch had its highlights too. Francis Abernathy from The Secret History - my dear, dear, Francis - made two appearances in the book! So, uhmazing. I liked the closure of the painting and I liked the dynamics between Theo and the other characters. The problem was - getting to the end from point A was just too hectic. Did we really need to know so much about Hobie's antiques? I don't know, maybe I didn't enjoy it as much because I'm not an art buff. But then again, I will always love The Goldfinch regardless.