Have you ever come across a book that leaves a permanent scar on your heart? A book so profoundly written and haunting that it stays with you for the rest of your life? Well, I give you The Secret History, by the author, Donna Tartt.
I first read this novel back in the early 90s when it first came out. It was recommended to me by my younger sister, who put a copy into my hands and said, “I think you would really like this book,” and thus set off an unrequited affair between myself and the characters in this tale that would span the years.
I read the book, then I lent my only copy to a friend who promptly dropped it into the bathtub one night and that was the end of it.
I read the book first back when I was in my 40s, and I remember it impressed me then, but I was very busy with an equestrian career, and I was writing my own humble manuscripts then and was unable to give The Secret History the full attention it deserved.
Fast forward to 2021.
I had carried impressions of The Secret History throughout my life, and certain scenes stuck with me all through the craziness of the subsequent years of working, living, suffering, struggling with financial issues, and having to deal with the stress of a real-life murder investigation. There were flashes of memory firmly imprinted in the far recesses of my brain; scenes where the main character was very cold and sick during the winter and almost died. I remembered the murder of a fellow classmate, of course. I remembered all the characters going to the boy’s funeral and there was a wasp flying around the church, and the imagery of that wasp buzzing around the mourners has stayed with me all these years, but the bulk of the story had escaped me.
I decided to buy an E-book of The Secret History in the fall of 2021 and read it again.
Maybe it’s because I’m older now and have more life experience in my wheelhouse that I can appreciate the narrative better. Or maybe I’ve grown as a writer myself, and I can see the masterful way the author has created perfection in the written word. I don’t know. What I do know, is that A Secret History is probably the best book I have ever read.
The Secret History is a Gothic tale of murder set against a fictional New England college called Hampden, where the main character, Richard Papen, an outsider, and product of a dusty, Californian suburbia, joins a clique of students studying Greek. The six characters, each with their own unique set of values and traits, are pulled into isolation under the tutelage of a mysterious, charismatic professor, who impresses his genius upon the burgeoning prodigies and instigates their decent into madness. This has all the ingredients of a Greek tragedy. Murder, lust, incest, drugs and alcohol, and a Bacchanal gone horribly wrong.
About the characters.
First, there is Henry Winter, the apparent leader of the group, who seems to have a lot of money at his disposal and a mother who dotes on him from a distance. For all his worldly appearances and deep understanding of Greek and languages, Henry seems lost. He is a stranger to the banal goings-on around the college. He is caught up in his own world of mythology and adoration for his professor, Julian Morrow, and is entertained only by his close friends and the odd drunken party. It is stated early on that Henry can be violent at times, especially if Camilla—the only female in the clique—is threatened.
Then, there is Francis Abernathy, a nervous, sensitive, gay young man, who is described as having fiery red hair, who wears beautiful shirts, magnificent neckties, a black overcoat, and looks like a cross between a prince and Jack the Ripper.
There is Edmund Corcoran, or Bunny, for short; a cheerful, attractive fellow, who talks like Thursten Howell the Third, from Gilligan’s Island, and has a penchant for leeching money and food off his friends.
There are the twins, Charles, and Camilla Macaulay.
And then, there is the main character, Richard Papen, whose voice is the narrative for this entire story.
At twenty-one years old, Richard is man enough to be held accountable for what takes place in the novel, but still tragically innocent of the ways of the world. His family life is broken. His father is abusive and frequently violent, and his impression upon Richard leaves him with a desperate ache to belong somewhere, to be accepted for all that he is, and to be loved. Richard states that his presence is ignored at home, is fraught with verbal assaults and fights with his father, and his mother is not inclined to stand up for him. Richard has no money, and he is accepted to the college on an assistance allowance, and all his attempts to blend in with the affluent crowd only serve to reinforce his hopeless desperation to emulate his friends.
What follows is a tale to transform the mind. This is Dark Academia at its finest, and it is no surprise there have been many attempts by other authors to create derivative narratives and slightly plagiarized renditions of Tartt’s masterpiece—to no avail.
The Secret History follows Richard’s vision of the clique he is allowed to join but never truly accepted into. He is forever on the outside, probably because he is not wealthy or influenced, and has come late into a group who already have strong attachments to each other. His presence threatens Bunny’s position in the group, who begins a paranoid attack on everyone involved, and only serves to embitter his existence with Henry.
At first, Richard’s view of the group is one of awe and skewed adoration. He wants to be included, and he is, although there are moments in the story when things are happening within the group, and he is never told of these situations or invited to participate. His ability to forgive these exclusions are commendable, and later, could only be described as a blessing. Richard is suspicious of the group’s activities. He realizes that he is still the outsider looking in, and the cracks in his character begin to show. He is so desperate to belong, he will overlook any shortcomings within the group, even when a murder occurs.
Any sensible person would go to the police, but not Richard. Although he was never present for the murder, he has first-hand knowledge of it, and now we get to see what he’s really made of. He takes on the guilt and the anxiety and the paranoia of the group, even though he had no part in the deed, and thus begins his fall from grace.
Bunny Corcoran, suspecting Henry of having a plan to remove him from the clique, sets about torturing each member in a particularly vicious way, incurring further wrath from Henry—who seems quite happy in the role as murderer. Bunny is a palpable threat to the group, and he has enough information to destroy them all, and even when Henry tries to placate him with a trip to Rome, something that will ultimately come back to haunt him, Bunny is bent on a course of retaliation and cruelty, and he will have to be dispatched.
Hence, the murder of Bunny Corcoran. This is revealed in the opening pages of the book, so the reader is already aware of the killing, and the rest of the story is Richard’s insight into the motivations and inventions of each character’s participation. The innocent, outward appearances of each character is slowly twisted into something dark and chilling. We learn from Richard’s experiences that he has been wrong about everything and everyone, but the damage is already done. He had no part in the first murder but was a witness to Bunny’s death, and therefore will hang with the rest of them should their secret be exposed. Bunny is gone, and the immediate threat is dealt with, but other forces are at work, and the history of the group will ultimately shatter their well-woven plan to get away with things.
What impressed me the most about The Secret History was the haunting locations; the classic descriptions of eerie mists, and the depraved souls who can attend the funeral of their friend, then complain about losing their favorite umbrella all in the same breath. These characters will seep into your DNA. You will feel the deathly cold and emptiness of Richard’s life when all his affluent friends spend the winter away from the college and he is left to suffer out the months of abandonment in a loft with a hole in the roof and no heat.
You will understand completely why Henry suggests that he felt dead before the murder, and now he is alive and invigorated.
You will ache for the characters, and you will forgive them, and you will never forget them. Tartt leaves nothing to imagination, and that’s what makes this story so poignant. Her attention to detail is remarkable, and she leaves nothing to chance. We see what Richard sees. We feel what he feels. We experience the panic and the paranoia right along with him, until we become him.
It is stated early in the book by Julian Morrow, the Greek professor whom Henry Winter adores, that ‘the idea of losing control is one that fascinates controlled people such as ourselves more than anything.’ This seems to be the theme of the whole novel. That we lose ourselves. That we remove the trappings of ordinary life and replace them with Gods and Deities, and this is what The Secret History has done for me.
I have lost myself, and I have been replaced by God.
An essay, By Kimberley D. Tait
