I think the brilliant thing that donna tartt accomplished in the secret history is that at first attempt reading it you‘re so hooked into the story, that it seems like a beautiful tragedy. Blood, Love, Hate, Death, Arts you get the full programm. But when you reread it, it becomes a satyr, a comedy. You see that it’s just Richard romantacicing everything they do, looking through his pink coloured glasses, and then you find it all ridiculous. I mean he even said it himself; „I think that mine is this: a morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs“ (talking about the fatal flaw). So to sum it up, he got involved with a group of to-be murderer, even became one himself, that are getting high and murder a man in the name of a greek god, just because he found that they had pretty clothes and a nice way to carry themselves? WTF RICHARD?
