![]() ![]() Richard uses the prologue to explain that he and his colleagues didn’t mean for Bunny to be missing, but for ten days, he lay in that ravine undiscovered, beneath blankets of unseasonably late snow. ![]() The narrator of our story is a gentleman named Richard, and he begins The Secret History with a shocking confession: we pushed Bunny off a ledge in the woods and left him for dead in the ravine. ![]() ![]() It delivers you something bold, dark, and electrifying that washes down your throat with a sophisticated melancholy, while also stimulating you with a smoky, lonely buzz which sobers the heart and leaves you with exquisite yearning as soon as you’re done with your first cup and cig, you immediately reach for the next to begin the addicting cycle again as hours pass and the stranger talks on and on. Reading The Secret History by Donna Tartt is like drinking black coffee and smoking a cigarette at a hotel bar while a well-dressed stranger recounts the tragedy of their New England college experience in an academic cult of Greek scholars. ![]()
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