The Secret History: by Donna Tartt

Born in 1963 in Greenwood, Mississippi in the US, Donna Tartt was an avid reader and writer from an early age. She went to the University of Mississippi, but in 1982, transferred to Bennington College, Vermont, where she studied classics. Tartt’s time at Bennington provided the backdrop to The Secret History. Four clever and eccentric college students studying classics at an elite college kill the fifth member of their class, Bunny.

DEFYING GENRE

This is not a spoiler: the narrator, Richard Papen, says as much in the opening lines of the prologue. But then, this book is not a classic crime story. More of a ‘whydunnit’ than a whodunnit, the first half of the novel deals with the painful circumstances that lead up to Bunny’s murder and the second half explores the even more devastating consequences.

FITTING IN

When Richard Papen transfers from California to Hampden College, Vermont, he is  something of an outsider. He feels himself to be at a disadvantage socially, economically and intellectually and therefore determines to enrol in Professor Julian Morrow’s classics class. The five students already in the group strike Richard as being incredibly sophisticated and he yearns to join them. However, once accepted into the group, Richard is rarely able to be himself and often lies about his background, pretending to be as wealthy and well-educated as the rest of them. He feels a hypocritical disdain for anyone with a similar background to his own. 

UNRELIABLE NARRATOR

Richard’s romantic, idealised view of his classmates makes him an unreliable narrator. The reader is frequently left wondering whether his friends Henry, Francis, Camilla and Charles are refined and brilliant intellectuals who get into trouble because of a twist of fate, victims of a Greek tragedy; or whether they are spoilt, egocentric psychopaths who commit a horrendous act while under the effects of drugs and alcohol, and then commit a second crime to save themselves. 

TRUTH AND LIES

Throughout the novel, we catch glimpses of the other characters’ true natures: Henry is manipulative and cold-hearted, Charles is almost certainly sexually and physically abusing his twin sister, and Camilla herself rarely demonstrates any warmth or emotion. Nevertheless, Richard loves them all. The question is, should we. 

“Henry had become angry when the twins were voicing moral objections at the idea of killing Bunny. ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he snapped.

‘But how,’ said Charles, who was close to tears, ‘how can you possibly justify cold-blooded murder?’

Henry lit a cigarette. ‘I prefer to think of it,’ he had said, ‘as a redistribution of matter.’”

“Henry se había enfadado porque los gemelos planteaban objeciones morales a la idea de matar a Bunny. 

—No digas tonterías—, les dijo. —¿Pero cómo puedes justificar un asesinato a sangre fría?—, replicó Charles, que estaba a punto de llorar. Henry encendió un cigarrillo y dijo: —Prefiero considerarlo como una redistribución de la materia”.

BUNNY 

Seen through Richard’s eyes, only Bunny’s negative aspects stand out in loathsome clarity. Overweight, with a loud, braying laugh and beery breath, he makes brash homophobic and racist comments, steals food from other students and relies on his friends to pay for his lavish lifestyle. When the murder takes place, it comes as something of a relief, even for the reader.

“His position in the group had started to slip at roughly the same time I’d arrived; his resentment was of the most petty and childish sort, and doubtless would never have surfaced had he not been in such a paranoid state, unable to distinguish his enemies from his friends. By stages I grew to abhor him. Ruthless as a gun dog, he picked up with rapid and unflagging instinct the traces of everything in the world I was most insecure about, all the things I was in most agony to hide.”

“Su posición en el grupo había empezado a decaer casi coincidiendo con mi llegada; su resentimiento era de lo más primario e infantil, y estoy seguro de que nunca habría salido a la luz de no haber caído Bunny en un estado tan paranoide, incapaz de distinguir a sus amigos de sus enemigos. Lo fui aborreciendo poco a poco. Despiadado como un perro de caza, captaba con un instinto rápido e infalible el rastro de todo aquello que me hacía sentir inseguro, todo aquello que más me esmeraba por ocultar”. 

REMORSE

After Bunny’s death, this all changes. Although Richard comments sneeringly on the outburst of hysterical grief amongst students and faculty on the college campus, he himself begins to feel fleetingpangs of remorse. While making coffee at Camilla and Charles’ house he discovers a jar of Horlick’s malted milk that only Bunny ever drank and the label“[stares] at him like a reproach.” He mentions it to Camilla:

“‘You know,’ I said, ‘you ought to throw away that jar of malted milk you have in there.’

It was a moment before she answered. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘In the closet there’s a scarf he left the last time he was here. I keep running across it. It still smells like him.’”

“—Tendrías que tirar ese bote de leche malteada —le dije.

—Ya lo sé —repuso al cabo de un momento—. En el armario hay una bufanda que se dejó la última vez que estuvo aquí. Tropiezo con ella cada dos por tres. Todavía conserva su olor”.

CONSEQUENCES

Richard and Camilla might be able to push memories of Bunny to the backs of cupboards and the backs of their minds temporarily, but the reader can’t help but feel a growing sympathy for their victim, as the better side of his nature and the tragedy of his absence only now begin to assert themselves. Whether or not the police can pin them down for Bunny’s murder, suppressed guilt and fear of discovery are a crushing burden which affects each of the characters in a profound and devastating way.

Donna Lousie Tartt was only twenty-nine when The Secret History was published. Vanity Fair magazine described her as a precocious literary genius and the book soon established itself as a modern classic. It brought her both acclaim and financial success, although attempts to film the book have so far been unsuccessful. Tartt’s second novel, The Little Friend, was published ten years later in 2002. Readers had to wait until 2013 for her third novel, The Goldfinch, which was adapted into a film of the same name in 2019.