#adult theodore decker

[sijssjsbssjsnsnnskbskwns]

Finn Wolfhard…

(My fanart, I’ve made about three changes to it, hope it’s still good!) (HELL OF A SUMMER 2025)

Older Boreo (In my opinion, “why didn’t they kiss?” their lips were just a few inches apart…. “Boris, take the freaking opportunity, it was right there in front of you!” 😭)

[totheidiot]

if you sit down and Think about Everything for a little bit, eventually you will have the sudden epiphany that you have based every man above the age of 25 from fictional media that you Think about a lot, either after your father or your math teacher from 7th and 8th grade.

[wereoz]

okay but theodore decker as an adult is so entertaining to me. whenever he interacts with pippa it is so stalkerish and possessive and he’s trying to keep up the pretence of a functioning relationship with kitsey also while not wanting her in any capacity - and then he finds out she’s cheating and the confrontation breaks down a facade of heterosexuality so fiercely to reveal some gay cunt calling her a spoiled little rich girl. seriously i was GAGGED. he did not hold back at all like i love this gay cunt DEEPLY by the way. he is my best friend

[miwiromantics]

!! INTRO POST !!

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦 ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ----------------------------------------------------------

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vi or virna. 17. southeast asian. infp-t. bisexual. genderfluid. he/they. ~ literal nancy wheeler fan club ~ ao3 acc. tiktok acc. twt acc.

this blog does not support ai in any form ---------------------------------------------------------- ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

ABOUT ME :

hiii miwis,

my name is virna, but call me vi. my pronouns are he/they but i'm honestly fine with anything. i love stranger things, IT, wednesday and the umbrella academy. my hobbies are listening to music, drawing, writing and baking. i love the colors green and blue and my favorite drink is iced coffee and monster energy drinks. i love billie eilish, tv girl, glass animals and the neighbourhood. i'm a stranger things fanartist and fanfiction writer. i don't really post a lot of fanfiction but i do have a lot of wips. i love talking about byler and jancy and am a proud wheeler siblings apologist. i'm a nancy wheeler and will byers defender, i kin jonathan byers and am a bi mike truther.

~ my dms are open for any of my mutuals. if anybody on here is struggling with something or just need a friend to talk to, i'm here to chat. i don't mind listening but i might not be able to help out much but i will give my full support ~

i love all my moots ❀

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SHIPS :

mlm ships: - byler (mike wheeler/will byers) - reddie (richie tozier/eddie kaspbrak) - boreo (boris pavilkovsky/theodore decker) - stenbrough (stanley uris/bill denbrough) - stanlon (stanley uris/mike hanlon) - stonathan (steve harrington/jonathan byers) - jargyle (jonathan byers/ argyle) - steddie (steve harrington/eddie munson) - klave (klaus hargreeves/dave)

wlw ships: - elmax (jane hopper/max mayfield) - ronance (robin buckley/nancy wheeler) - rovickie (robin buckley/vickie) - buckingham (robin buckley/chrissy cunninghum) - telenor (elenor shellstrop/tahani al-jamil) - wenclair (wednesday addams/enid sinclair)

mlw ships: - jancy (jonathan byers/nancy wheeler) - jopper (joyce byers/jim hopper) - lumax (lucas sinclair/max mayfield) - duzie (dustin henderson/suzie bingham) - henderhop (dustin henderson/jane hopper) - delila (deigo hargreeves/lila pitts) - felores (five hargreeves/delores) - sloane (sloane hargreeves/luther hargreeves) - chelenor (chidi anagonye/elenor shellstrop) - peraltiago (jake peralta/amy santiago) - simosa (jonah simms/amy sosa)

poly ships: - elumax (lucas sinclair/jane hopper/max mayfield) - stoncy (jonathan byers/nancy wheeler/steve harrington)

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DNI :

- terfs - homophobes - ableists - zionists - nazis - antisemites - proshippers

RULES :

- free palestine. if you don't agree just leave. i'm not here to argue about it. - m*leven and st*ncy shippers who want to interact can do so respectfully. no hate comments please. - no noah, finn or millie hate welcomed here. i don't care if you don't like them. free will exist. - i don't mind spicy!byler content, it doesn't bother me as long as its legal, consensual, and of appropriate age - no proshippers here. no ships between adults and minors - i don't ship real people, so if you do, don't interact. real ships are only allowed if they are together in real life.

🍉 DONATION :

palestine children fund relief hygiene kits for gaza care for gaza gaza soup kitchen

alright miwis - ♡ please read this whole thing before interacting. i luv you guys :3

love, vii

[http-soukiebb]

The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt Book and Movie Review 🖼️

The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt Book Review

Summary :

I’m gonna preface this by saying I will read anything Donna Tartt writes and love it and this book is an understatement to that and is a showcase of her more than talented writing skills and beautiful prose in this story. The Goldfinch tells the story of Theodore Decker and how his life is changed after he is a victim of a terrorist attack that leaves him in the possession of a very valuable painting, Fabritius’ “The Goldfinch” and how the knowledge of owning this very valuable painting weighs on his conscious into adulthood. This huge (literally and figuratively) coming of age novel navigates topics that people search their whole lives to understand, such as love, life, and death, and Tartt’s ability to write about these topics from the perspective of her male characters is thought provoking, dramatic, and more often that not unpredictable.

Spoilers*** I think that Theo’s development from his teenage to adult years going through multiple tragedies was interesting to see as he constantly grieves his mother, finds no love with his father, and his own found family with Hobie, Boris, the Barbours, etc. which makes him beg the question of fate, and how it has a hand in our lives. Grief is seemingly the biggest thing Theo is consistently struggling with, and the last pages of the whole book are what got me the most, when Theo finally comes to a resolution with what the painting means to him and how he interprets (to put it literally SO SIMPLY) the meaning of life in relation to Death with one of my favorite quotes being, “And in the midst of our dying, as we rise from the organic and sink back ignominiously into the organic, it is a glory and privilege to love what Death doesn’t touch” (p. 771).

The Goldfinch (2019) Movie Review

*Spoilers and minor criticism

Despite the novel being nothing short of a masterpiece, sometimes a lon-gterm story cannot be delivered satisfactorily into a tw- hour film. I loved the movie and personally think the casting is amazing, and Ansel Elgort as Theo was very talented, but it is ALL IN THE PACING!! which I believe was the most contributing problem. I think they should have focused more on Theo’s relationship with his mom prior to the explosion, the negative one with his dad, and absolutely should’ve shown how Hobart and Blackwell was struggling, then leading to Theo bargaining and eventually “scamming” customers. Kitsey is also unbearable in the movie compared to the book but. In short, more focus on a few plotlines as opposed to little bits of every plotline would’ve been preferable. The soundtrack and visual aesthetics were very beautiful, and the portrayal of Theo and Boris’ relationship was better than I could imagine it being in the movie. Besides the general criticisms, this movie is not BAD okay.

OVERALL 7.5/10.

[bugboygabe-moved]

boris rubbing theos back as he throws up is so important to me

like “sorry i made you throw up potter, but i need you alive now”

also when they were walking outside and he kept pausing to grab his face and look at him

“hey, hey, you need to walk, yes? alright.”

[sunflowerbarnard]

MY RIGHTS 🥺🥺🥺

[winedarkwords]

Instagram: winedarkwords

[bimboredfield]

Must a movie be good? Is it not enough to see Ansel completely unhinged afterwards?

[croppedsweetsgentleman]

Boris, the protector

I want to propose this short analysis of The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt. The predominant theme in the book is belonging and loneliness, and Theo experiences them alike, as a consequence to his internalized fixation that “he’s never met anyone who made me feel loved the way she did [his mother]” (pg. 7, Tartt). Many people make their place into his life, each of them being a caricature of his needs. Boris, I believe is critical in Theo’s coping with depression, because he is the only person that is human to him. Unlike other men and women that Theo gets acquainted with, Boris Pavlikovsky is not trying to present himself as a perfected, yet false, image of himself. What emotionally connects these two character throughout the book is that they accept to leave long each other, flaws and qualities, feeling at ease to express their true selves.  

Theo’s adult interactions with Boris, conceal their interdependence as well as their emotional connection. In the parking lot and beyond that moment, the author makes powerful use of pathos to tip off the profundity of their established relationship. Firstly, Boris tries to save Theo from the seemingly inevitable death: “I realized, with cold horror, what Boris had known was going to happen [...]: why he’s wanted me to run for it, or at least try” (pg. 760, Tartt). Theo, uncertain and cautious until then, instinctively shoots Boris’ two attackers, when in a protective state of mind after thinking Boris was shot. But when the adrenaline wears off, he is frozen with shock at the sight of the bloodbath he caused. This is when Boris takes control, and shows the dominance that he has always had in their relationship. A beautiful moment takes place in that terrible situation, where Boris, having discovered a coping system (talking), tries to soothe Theo, who is clearly in shock: ”’Come on’ he said, catching my arm, pulling me up. His voice was level and soothing although he was splattered with blood and I could feel his hands shaking. ‘All over now. You saved us. [...] You did good’” (pg. 763, Tartt). 

My intention was to show that these two stubborn men only show their care for each other when they are in a situation without no escape, just by themselves. Moreover, plenty of characters, even the love interest, Pippa, were pushed by the circumstances to do so, yet they didn’t feel this kind of emotional bond with Theodore Decker.

[lluvguts]

sore eyes // boreo

pairing: adult theodore decker / boris pavlikovsky

 genre + warning: some angst, swearing, implied sex

word count: 1778

summary: theo and boris have been hiding some things, and theo finally cracks

words in translation: Птица- the bird // Такой идиот - such an idiot

read it on ao3

A text message from Theo’s phone echoed, then resonated in the dark; the ceiling was haloed in the screen’s soft blue light moments before returning to black. Different sheets that held familiar smells. Theo reached out from under the blankets with a sleepy hand for his glasses and stopped cold.

Kitsey: Hey you! Still spending the night at Hobie’s? Wanna grab a bite to eat in the morning? I can swing by the shop :) xoxoxo ♡ ♡ ♡!!!

A rustle next to him. Theo set the phone back onto the hotel nightstand with a hollow clatter before Boris could turn over and inspect. The barely there tickle of his hair against Theo’s bare neck, a subdued breath from behind warming the still air. Boris extended a hand to pull Theo’s upturned shoulder back down into the sheets, murmuring nonsensical Polish—words that would have soothed Theo, in years prior, but now only made him lie unmoving around his touch. The refusal to accept; the wave of shifting light casting foreign shadows along the walls, an inky blue prelude to dawn. The city awakening, another night unfurling into the real world: leaving Theo unsure how to place his relationship with Boris among the daily trivialities of his own life. A piece that does not fit anywhere, no matter what age or chapter they decide to burst into. It simply would not work.

Theo knew Boris was not asleep—his undressed body was emanating delicious heat, closeness that made Theo flinch as he neared. With his back to the curtain he was bathed in shadow, accentuating his downturned jaw and angular form—all the more resemblant to Theo of a sculpted Hermes, or that of a Baroque painting: shaped hues of milk white and hushed blue contours that dipped into the crevices of his body, the brief suggestion of color, only a brushstroke of width, blooming under his sharp cheeks.

His hand the only thing touching him. It crept lower, a delicate dance of fingers across skin, towards his exposed abdomen until Theo flung out a hand in warning. Ironclad grip.

“Boris.”  

But he only chortled out a tired laugh, his dark eyes open and one expressive brow furrowed.

“What? Are you still upset over your bird that you cannot enjoy? Let me touch you,” Boris ignored his request—along with the hand locked onto his wrist—and continued to tease with soft touches that drove him mad. Theo brushed Boris’s hand away and sat up.

“Stop. I can’t do this anymore.” Theo said and pulled the thin bedsheet over his middle.  

“Cannot do what? Have fun? If this is about Птица, you know there are ways to get it back.”

Theo could not address the crippling shame he felt about the painting. The years of its guarded presence holding Theo afloat. Gone. “I can’t..I can’t keep hiding. It’s wrong. And technically, this is an affair.”

“Hah! Affair,” He spit out the word like it was poison to his lips, “As if snowflake would care. She sleeps with her love, why can you not with yours? Hmm?”

Theo did not reply. “We are adults, Potter. Grown men. She can do what she likes the same as we.” Boris went to the nightstand on his side—Theo’s heart sped at the curve of his taut skin, how his bare hands had felt every scar, caressed each shoulder blade, trailed a finger in unadulterated bliss down the dip in his lower back—his toned muscles twisting as he reached for a cigarette. The days spent craving his body against his own, how desperately Theo missed it during the daytime: a fact he couldn’t face in the present moment, not with him so close, his lips soft even in a sneer.

“You make this sound like it’s an acceptable thing.”

“What has it been these past ten years then? Vegas? Was that something you forgot?” Boris spoke around the cigarette, his voice icy and holding every drop of contempt for the lost time they spent emerging into adults—the things left unspoken finally dusted off and frowned upon.

“Like how you forgot to reach out to me all this time.” Theo said bitterly

“Pfft. Is different thing. Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not. It is directly connected and you know it.” Theo crossed his arms.

“Is directly connected,” Boris rolled his eyes and mimicked him.

“So what then?” Theo asked over Boris’s  imitation, his voice growing louder, “Why come all the way out here? Why stay? You could have left the second you saw me in that pub. An easy way out, really. With the painting lost forever and all.” Theo felt the anger rise from where it had been sitting vacant all these years; he had no issue with the bite behind his words, or what it might do to their secret nights spent together. Kitsey might be happier with Cable but it didn’t matter to Theo: he couldn’t live with the shame it would cause if the Barbours found out about Boris, or Hobie. Having to come clean.

Boris leaned up against the headboard—completely bare and unashamed in the fact—to point a finger at Theo. “I stayed for you. Hah! I even took painting for you. If not, would have no reason to be back. Would never see you again.”

Theo let out a mirthless laugh. To conceal the knot of worry threading its way into his mind. “That’s your excuse? To ‘see me?’ We were childish and stupid in Vegas. Apparently nothing’s changed.”

“Fuck you.” Boris stamped out the cigarette and  rose from the bed, facing the curtained window and allowing Theo to gaze with confliction at his back. His dense set of black curls magnified in the filtered sunrise. “Thinking I can come back, we can be together, like this. With no worry. Такой идиот.” He muttered to himself.

But he heard him. Theo crawled across the bed and took Boris’s forearm to spin him back. “What did you expect Boris? You can show up in my life, let us have a few good fucks and think everything’s alright? The same?” He had a pained expression flash across his face, his eyes once bright but were now shaded with emptiness at the brief moments he had hope.

“Of course not,” Boris said quickly, but Theo knew that fallen face, even now he did a poor job at hiding what he was feeling, “I came here on business trip. And found you! Was fate that brought us together. Don’t you see it, Theo? And now is fate asking us to be here.”

“Fuck fate, Boris. You can’t just expect me to drop everything and go. Hell, even be sleeping with you. I’m engaged to be married, you have a wife—or was that a lie too? I practically own the shop, I can’t just up and leave Hobie like that. I have a life here.” Theo ignored the ache in his stomach remembering the sight of Boris, after ten years, finally seeing him. The joy that overcame him, the memory of how it made the fierce wind that afternoon not as harsh; his tired eyes had lightened when his arms found his shoulders, small mannerisms never forgotten.

“You expected me to drop everything, that day. In Vegas I had a life, and still you wanted me to go with you. What is so different now?” Boris wiped his face with a rough hand and glared at Theo. His black eyes glittered with hidden emotion: regret for what could have happened, their future dangling by a what-if.

“I told you. I just can’t. I can’t have sex with you anymore. Not like this. It’s wrong on so many levels—I have a fiancé, whether or not I love her. I still have ties. And I am in no way flying across the continent on some drug heist for you. It’s not my fault that you lost the fucking painting.”

Boris sighed. His face undeniably hurt. “So harsh, Potter. I do not know what time has done to change you, but maybe you do not mean things you say.” His smile was only a quirk of his lips, not reaching his eyes. Empty.

“And now, as I think. If not for your little bird, maybe we would have never met again. Last goodbye under that street lamp.” Boris continued, his face hollow. Theo didn’t like where this was going—the broken look in Boris’s eyes as he bent to pick up his clothes strewn across the carpet.

“Where are you going?” Theo asked with bated breath as he watched Boris button his pants, his overcoat, shirt.

Boris, who could never keep his mouth shut. Left without a word.

If only Boris could see, Theo thought, he was doing this for their own good. Because really, what else was there to do? Theo wasn’t chained to Boris, and neither was he. They were adults. They had lives to live—regardless of their love, the ardent connection that stemmed from boyhood, no matter how many times they tried to make it work.

This wasn’t a relationship. Theo had to tell himself compulsively as he gathered his own clothes off the floor and left Boris’s hotel room. To meet Kitsey, to pretend he was at the shop. That everything was going as planned. But Theo started to wonder: was there any way to make things the way they should? Could there be one?

So that Theo could wake to Boris’s sleeping shape in the morning, the face he loved, rather than Kitsey’s? Go their separate ways, different relationships, yet remain on parallel paths: could Theo ever imagine introducing Mrs. Barbour to Boris, while Kitsey stayed with Tom? Would she smile in the same tender, personal way that she often did when Theo was in the room?

Theo knew he had it all wrong. He was afraid of losing Boris; the shame that resided deep in his bones was only at himself—surfacing words: coward. Trapped. Isolated. Stuck in an engagement meant only for the bettering of others. Not what he wanted.

Stay. We can make it work.  

A dull, festering throb started at the base of his chest, worming its way to his heart. Clung to the back of his throat. Skull pounding a new kind of headache down the busy streets, searching with sore eyes for a familiar overcoat, thick black hair blowing in the wind. His life raft out of the choppy future he was forced to drown in.

Last goodbye under that streetlamp.

Theo: Boris. Call me.

[sijssjsbssjsnsnnskbskwns]

Boris Volodymyrovych Pavlikovsky and Theodore (Theo) Decker (The Goldfinch Movie 2019 GIF’s)

[stina-is-a-punk-rocker]

donna tartt’s ‘the goldfinch’: an attempt at a comprehensive review

Includes spoilers, because I still haven’t mastered the art of reviewing something without spoiling anything, because I am a dumbass.

It is with great trepidation that I step on my soapbox for this book, partly because I don’t want to be Sandra the Soccer Mom at a modern art exhibition who eyes the work with a disdainful sniff and, “My Bobby could do better than that with Crayola and construction paper!”, partly because too many people like this book for me to be comfortable with dragging it through the mud. Not that I particularly hated it; I view The Goldfinch with the same detachment I reserve for vanilla ice cream and jazz music: it exists, and some of it is good, but it’s not something that has me frothing at the mouth.

Having read (and loved) The Secret History, I was expecting beautiful writing, excessively dramatic and melancholic characters that I will hate with every fiber of my being, and a plot that will keep me hooked till the end. Having read The Goldfinch, my sentiments can be summed up in nine words: when you order a Coke but get a Pepsi.

Theodore is insufferable, pretentious and just an overall boring protagonist. I’ve read books with main characters I hate (*cough* Gone Girl *cough*), and I can tolerate arseholery, as long as it’s interesting arseholery. Theodore Decker couldn’t do me the courtesy of doing even that. That last monologue of his? Skimmed over the entirety; I couldn’t be fucked to go through pages’ worth of introspection and Analyses of Life. RIP to Theo and his sad boi hours, but I guess I’m just different. Almost everyone else in his life is far more interesting than him- Hagrid Hobie, Boris, Mrs. Barbour, Kitsey- hell, even Andy the Weeaboo.

Pippa’s essentially a watered-down version of Camila. I don’t have much to say about her except: :/.

And then we have Boris. A caricature if there ever was one- the over-glorified alcoholic, the drug-addicted genius. Utterly cartoonish. Draco in sparkly leather pants, but not too sparkly, because our man’s Heterosexual.

I’m assuming Hobie was supposed to be the big, loveable gentle giant- the one character we all loved no matter what, the only saving grace- but he falls short. Again, Hobie’s painfully boring and I couldn’t bring myself to care for him.

The beginning is one whiplash after the other- we go from adult Theodore to young Theodore after he has a dream about his mum (who I became fond of, for some reason), to his first encounter with Fabritius’ painting that sets off this series of very improbable events, to his mum being blasted to smithereens (RIP Mrs. Decker, I liked you), to Welty giving him the painting- which, now that I think about it: how did Welty take the painting in the first place? He obviously obtained the painting before the bomb went off, but given that the story takes place in the twenty-first century and they’re in the Museum of Modern Art in New York, you’d think there’d be tighter security. And where was Pippa in all of this (the book might’ve mentioned why she wasn’t with Welty at the time of the explosion but I’m not about to leaf through eight-hundred pages to find out)?

The part where Theo waits for his mum to come home is genuinely painful. My heart hurt for him and his mum; in other words, it made me Feel Sad Things, and I respect a book which can make me do that.

But the fact remains that most of Theo’s problems could’ve been avoided if he did away with the fucking painting. At first, I assumed that Welty’s instructions to find Hobie meant that they were both part of some art smuggling gig. Why did Welty give Theo the painting in the first place? What was he supposed to do with it?

Theo had plenty of opportunity to hand over the fucking thing- he’s thirteen, just barely a teenager, and admittedly I didn’t make the best of decisions at that age (that’s an understatement), but allow me to say this: Theodore, you fucking dumbass.

What’s even worse is that at the end, that’s all that happens. They hand over the painting, get half a million dollars, and that’s it. And I get that if Theo had done that in the first place, that would mean no story, but if your character has to make the dumbest decisions to move the plot forward, maybe you should reconsider.

There’s of course the argument that Theo’s attachment to the painting has to do with his mother’s love for it, and him holding onto that last memory of her, but it’s not like he’s holding onto her favorite necklace or her diary, or something she owned. I dunno, it just doesn’t make sense to me. I just can’t get over the fact that he just hands it over and walks away unscathed at the end- it makes zero sense to my reptilian brain. To describe what I felt after that anticlimactic conclusion: much like I did at the end of Guy de Maupassant’s The Diamond Necklace, only far less entertained.

The plot drags on for far too long, not to mention there’s large chunks of it that could be lopped off. The large section of the story that takes place in Vegas- easily disposable. Boris is the only catalyst to the plot that comes out of it- Xandra and Theo’s dad are pretty insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

And then, near the end, much of the actual story is crammed into a relatively small number of pages. And this is going to be nitpicky, but by the time that rolled around (reuniting with Boris and the sequence of events afterwards), I was… pretty fucking bored. So instead of turning the last page with the euphoria that ending should’ve warranted (minus Theo’s #deep life analysis), it was more of a ‘thank god THAT’S over!’

The final few pages- oh, fuck, no. It’s the sort of angst-riddled pretentious bullshit people write in English Lit. It reads like the musings of that one weepy drunk uncle who stays way past he’s invited at family reunions and goes off on tangents about Life and His Experiences and the World and the Futility of Human Existence and Nature and Death. In other words: it’s fucking boring. No one cares, Theo.

Going through this might make it seem that I strongly dislike The Goldfinch. I assure you that’s far from the truth; it’s wonderfully written, and a decent read if you’ve got time to spare. I just tend to rate a book based on whether or not I would reread it, and I doubt I’ll ever reread The Goldfinch. It made me Feel, and there were parts of it that I want to frame and hang on my wall, or make a throw pillow out of. The book just wasn’t to my taste, overall

[live-in-noir]

I would beat the shit out of adult Theodore Decker.

[mandarinastronaut]

Homoromantic subtext in ‘The Goldfinch’

The Goldfinch is a novel written by Donna Tartt, published in 2013. It follows the characters Theodore Decker and Boris Pavlikovsky. The relationship between the two is a bit controversial. Literary critics have completely ignored the implications of a romance.

Let’s start with Theo’s toxic masculinity and internalized homophobia. Since the Tumblr user @borispav has already made an excellent analysis regarding the subject, I’m going to quote them.  

”…Internalized homophobia is a fear and aversion toward homosexuality that is felt by a member of said sexuality. It’s an inclination toward projection, a way of securing confidence and self-image (two things which are threatened both systematically and socially) by registering one’s own sexual identity as a flaw in other people.

Toxic masculinity (or hegemonic masculinity) is a series of behaviors and traits found in men who have been molded by the ideologies of patriarchy. This mode of thinking presents a set of standards and conventions which men are expected to both adhere to and promote interpersonally.

When it comes to men, the ultimate goal—in both these cases— is to embody the widely advertised image of what is considered to be a ‘normal’ or ‘average’ man. This man is able-bodied and strong (both physically and mentally). This man fulfills the roles expected of his gender. He is ‘masculine’ in that he does not cry nor outwardly express any emotions outside of anger and lust. As a child he is sociable and sporty. He has many friends and does not struggle with fitting in. As a teen he is rowdy and full of life, armed to the teeth with a ‘healthy’ sex drive; the ultimate manifestation of the phrase “boys will be boys”. As an adult he is married and financially stable. He is on his way to achieving the American Dream: a white picket fence, 2.5 kids, and a wife that he feels responsible for protecting. He is straight and always has been.”

”Naturally interwoven amongst the pillars of toxic masculinity sits homophobia and its internalized counterpart. Heterosexuality, after all, is a core part of being a ‘normal’ male. Any other errant attraction is therefore meant to be deftly identified and expunged.

Given the sexual nature several of Theo’s fears toward masculinity take on, I believe it is more than safe to assume that he struggles with accepting and acknowledging his own sexuality (whether it be bisexuality or homosexuality, I don’t have a definite stance) as it is at odds with what has been presented as ‘normal’ male behavior.

Sexuality very nearly serves as an antagonist in this novel. It’s depicted as an emotionally draining entity, a wildness, a physical allure, tangible threat, and  elusive dream. Theo is almost always at war with it—a sort of subplot to the story that mainly reveals itself in behavior and attitude, rather than direct dialogue or thought.

Sometimes the terror Theo harbors toward homosexuality (and, at its core, his own sexuality) is visceral enough to manifest itself as a palpable real-life danger. For example, aside from being verbally and emotionally abused by kids at school, Theo is also able to recall an instance where several boys held him down and attempted to sodomize him with a stick of deodorant (615). This memory, like the other, is mentioned in a passing, blasé, way. However, the fact that Theo remembers it at all as an adult—and in enough detail to recall the exact names of his aggressors— speaks to the experience’s traumatic weight.

In a similar vein, we have Theo’s negative re-entry into New York: the two different adult men who were implied child molesters (who cornered Theo and physically chased him down the street) serving as more literal manifestations of his own homophobia (404-409). This is the fear, and false pretense, that gay men are ‘perverts’ or ‘child molesters’ brought to life. It’s Theo’s repressed sexuality taunting and confronting him in a brutal, nightmarish, form; an expected effect of having been taught that a part of his identity is inherently ‘bad’ and unremovable.

This, and the bullying incident, are two prime examples of a fairly common literary technique used in which a character’s strongest fears or desires are made physical, rather than just emotional. Such a device works to symbolize/convey their fervency, demonstrate just how pressing and real they are to the afflicted character.”

A few examples of Theo’s internalized homophobia:

He can’t tell his doormen he’s going to miss them, because he thinks it would sound ”gay”. (238)

He feels uncomfortable in the cab because the driver saw Boris kissing him. (396)

He’s embarrassed to be seen with Popper because the breed is seen as ”feminine ” or “gay”. (402)

He’s distraught when Boris asks if he’s Hobie’s partner. (615)

“As for the internalized homophobia, it’s as ever-present as ever in his adulthood. In fact, I think it actually might even be morepronounced and focused than it was in his youth, when his fears primarily manifested themselves in vague and ambiguous ways. As an adult, his aversion is blunt and easy to identify. He graduates from steering clear of things that might insinuate homosexuality, to steering clear of gay men almost altogether. He’s able to acknowledge that they tend to make him uncomfortable, but in terms of trying to understand or mediate on why this is so, little is done. Instead he deems it suffice to drop in a few cursory sentences here and there whilst on the subject of something else, leaving it at that. No bigger picture is addressed, and no critical issue is implied.

For example, what we get are brief and loaded anecdotes like the following:

“I’d inherited my mother’s light-colored eyes, which short of sunglasses at gallery openings made it pretty much impossible to hide pinned pupils—not that anybody in Hobie’s crowd seemed to notice, except (sometimes) a few of the younger, more with-it gay guys— ‘You’re a bad boy,’ the bodybuilder boyfriend of a client had whispered into my ear at a formal dinner, freaking me out thoroughly. And I dreaded going up to the Accounts department at one of the auction houses because one of the guys there—older, British, an addict himself—was always hitting on me.” (472)

The sheer weariness and disdain with which he views threats to his heterosexuality is palpable here. There’s something almost sinister and deceptive about the way he chooses to portray these scenarios, something nightmarish in the way both men seem to be implicitly taunting him, confronting or incriminating him with the knowledge of a secret he pretends not to know. Both cases are clearly sources of great distress to him, as he feels the need to bring them up in context of something that didn’t exactly need the reference. It’s all fine and good that he mentions the "younger gay guys” noticing his pinned pupils, since the topic of thought was drugs, but then to go off and suddenly engage in the quotation of very specific dialogue (“you’re a bad boy”), and the discussion of very specific fears (being hit on by a guy), suggests that there is some deeper trauma demanding acknowledgment at the root. Theo is bothered by this. He is tormented by this. He uses the word dread (dread!!) to try and convey just how much he does not want to be in the same vicinity as someone who may act upon the assumption that he’s gay. (He wants us to assume that’s only because he’s confidently straight and doesn’t want the attention, but we know, in truth, that it’s because he’s both afraid and enraged at someone knowing and confronting him with such an unbidden part of himself).

Either way, it’s clear that he’s aware of the irrational severity of these fears, otherwise he wouldn’t have brought them up of his own volition or chosen to detail the day-to-day effects of their disproportionally crippling nature (i.e. him now despairing a certain department of his work environment). So yes, at some subconscious level, he knows that this isn’t normal, that he is stunted, emotionally, in some way. However, as I said before, he doesn’t ever think about why this is. He doesn’t try to find the problem, or even allude to there possibly being some small discrepancy in the way he’s always perceived his sexual identity. His aversion toward gay men simply remains a ‘mystery issue’, something of obvious weight that Theo wants us to feel, but not know. (Though, we know what it is anyway.)

And as if all this wasn’t obvious enough, we also get the very particular way in which Boris is framed in reference to Kitsey. He reenters Theo’s life right as Theo’s in a crisis over her, the engagement, and the fact that he’s not in love. And I mean this literally; Theo runs into Boris at St. Marks because he’d been on a walk in efforts to find ease of mind, a refuge from the daunting prospect of upcoming marriage (525). What he does find is Boris. Boris, who then, briefly, assumes the role of a hero— the knight in shining armor who’s come to sweep Theo up and away from the worldly snares of expectation and social-rule. This image is only further enforced when Boris comes billowing into his life again at the engagement party, graciously saving him from what (to Theo) was a downright nightmarish scenario. “Let’s get out of here,” is what Boris implores of him, leading them both to the door excitedly (635). Theo’s immediate response is to recognize that this is what he’s been unknowingly hoping this entire time, that Boris’ plea to run away from the engagement party with him is the “only thing that has made sense” to him all night (635). This is the ever-warring sides of illusion and reality at direct confrontation with each other. Choosing to stay at the party would imply that he has an unwavering loyalty to Kitsey (as in to heterosexuality/convention), while choosing to leave would imply that there are other, more genuine, desires drawing him away to something else at heart (his love for Boris, his lust for that wild edge; life without restraint and rule).

Theo chooses to leave. Or, I should probably say, he has no choice but to leave. When given such an enchanting window of escape, at such a precise moment of emotional distress and internal turmoil, it is impossible to resist. Of course his instinct would be to leave with Boris, even without knowing the details of their destination or circumstance. There’s an innate trust and draw that has been built up inside him from their Vegas years; Boris knows the deepest parts of Theo inside and out, and there are little to no other people in his life that he is tied to like that, little to no people that would provide the same type of relief from social-performance and self-deception as Boris would. On instinct (on instinct) Theo is true to himself for once. He physically runs after the thing he prefers, the thing it is that he actually wants. However, I do emphasize ‘on instinct’ because this is certainly more of a one-time, impulsive, occurrence than it is anything else. In the end it’s still Kitsey who Theo deems worthy of a suicide-note, not Boris. It’s still Kitsey who, despite everything, he continues to remain on the fence about all the way through the end of the novel. So, yes, it’s evident that the instinct (to be honest with himself, to go after what he wants etc.) is there, that—even after all these years—it still remains strong enough to be acknowledged and acted upon. However, the pressures of compulsive heterosexuality and toxic masculinity have not lessened their grip either, and, in the end, they are the ones that win.”

(all of this was from the amazing @borispav  ‘s blog, thank you for letting me quote you!)

The story is told in retrospect and therefore is completely dependent on memory. Well memory, as we all know, isn’t very reliable. You forget, remember something incorrectly, manipulate and so forth. It is also sort of implied that Theo’s been using all sorts of substances, from hard drugs to alcohol. On the pages 622-623 we find out that Theo’s a ‘black-out’ drunk (he passes out and forgets things). Boris brings up the painting which baffles Theo since he himself has shown it to Boris but completely forgotten about it. Just the fact that he’s forgotten something so insanely important and significant, makes it more than possible that there are other important things he’s forgotten about. Theo tells us that he’s written the book for his mother, and in the hopes that Pippa would read it one day. This makes him quite biased and sets up an agenda for him, therefore implying that he’s willing to manipulate the story to fit his purposes. And because he’s trying to convince everyone (mostly himself, but also the reader) that he’s in love with Pippa, it wouldn’t make much sense for him to write about the true feelings he has for Boris. Though it’s very clear that he doesn’t actually love her. He even says this on page 570;

”Worse: my love for Pippa was muddied-up below the waterline with my mother, with my mother’s death, with losing my mother and not being able to get her back. All that blind, infantile hunger to save and be saved, to repeat the past and make it different, had somehow attached itself, ravenously, to her. There was an instability in it, a sickness. I was seeing things that weren’t there. I was only one step away from some trailer park loner stalking a girl he’d spotted in the mall. For the truth of it was: Pippa and I saw each other maybe twice a year; we e-mailed and texted, though with no great regularity; when she was in town we loaned each other books and went to the movies; we were friends; nothing more. My hopes for a relationship with her where wholly unreal, whereas my ongoing misery, and frustration, were an all-too-horrible reality. Was groundless, hopeless, unrequited obsession any way to waste the rest of my life?”

Even if you were to interpret it differently (Theo actually being in love with her, or at least being sexually attracted to her) it still doesn’t overrule Theo’s love for Boris (Theo could be bi-, pan-, or polysexual etc.).

Now when talking about Boris’ internalized homophobia, it’s not as severe as Theo’s. He’s a lot more accepting and openminded. On page 314. Boris brings up homosexuality;

”…Old poofter?” he asked. I was taken aback. ”No,” I said swiftly, and then; ”I don’t know.” ”Doesn’t matter,” said Boris, offering me the jar. ”I’ve known some sweet olf poofters.” ”I don’t think he is,” I said uncertainly. Boris shrugged. ”Who cares? if he is good to you? None of us ever find enough kindness in the world, do we?“

It’s very clear that by bringing up homosexuality casually like this, he wants to hear how Theo feels about it. This dialogue also tells us that Boris is a lot more accepting than Theo, who’s shocked and troubled by the idea of Hobie being gay.  

Boris doesn’t have trouble expressing his feelings, he often even exaggerates them.

Boris says he’s in love with Kotku even though he doesn’t know her (326)

Boris says that he ”loves” Kotku and that she’s ”the truestthing that has ever happened” to him (328).

Boris says that the 'fight’ he and Kotku had, was ”only out of love”, and that they realized ”how much they loved each other” (360).

Boris tells Theo how he and KT became ”so close” in one night, and how they ”opened up their hearts” for each other (602).

Boris says that Bobo was like a father to him (613).

Boris is telling Theo about his tattoo, and says this; ”…This is for Katya, love of my life. I loved her more than any woman I ever knew.” To which Theo responds with; ”You say that about everybody.”  Theo’s comment proves that this is something Boris does all the time.

But with Theo, he can express himself only through action, rather than words. It’s important to bear this in mind whenever interpreting his actions.

Quoting the Tumblr user @queer-deckovskij ;

”…Part II of The Goldfinch Book contains the chapters Badr al-Dine and Wind, Sand and Stars, in which Boris and Theo meet, go on adventures, live a pair of year together, fight, love each other, then say goodbye. These 200 pages are introduced by a quote Donna put right before chapter 5, that comes from the poet Arthur Rimbaud and says,

When we are very strong, - who draws back? very gay*, - who cares for ridicule? When we are very bad, - what would they do with us?

So where do I start? This quote accurately depicts Boris’ and Theo’s friendship in a way that takes my breath away. It contains all the force and stubbornness and courage of the angry youth they represent. She couldn’t have picked a better quote to represent them. But that’s not all. The small poem doesn’t end here - Donna cut the second part of it, which says,

Deck yourself, dance, laugh. I could never throw Love out of the window.

Yes, the poem used to represent Theo and Boris’ relationship is a love poem. I think it’s really important the notion of who Arthur Rimbaud was. He lived in France during the 19th century and while still very young he had a homosexual affair with another poet, named Paul Verlaine; they ran off together and for quite some time they shared a really unhealthy and irregular life, mostly based on drugs and alcohol and dangerous experiences. Les Poètes maudits, yes? They lived in the same house for a few years and ended up splitting up in quite a violent way (Verlaine shot Rimbaud twice). Does this experience remind you of someone? A couple of guys who drank beer and did drugs like it was a packet of chips and a bottle of pepsi? Inserting that quote, Donna Tartt literally compared Theo and Boris to Rimbaud and Verlaine. Which means that, officially, Theo and Boris’s love was not a platonic one.

*I do not know if Donna inserted this translation or a more neutral one, like cheerful or jolly; the original French poem uses the word gai, which literal translates as gay.”

When Boris starts dating Kotku, Theo is forced to think about what his and Boris’ relationship was for the first time. Though, it’s already been implied earlier that Theo might have a crush on Boris.

Subtext of Theo’s attraction toward Boris;

He’s staring at Boris’ stomach (272).

He’s staring at Boris’ neck (284).

He’s staring at Boris who’s wearing nothing but Theo’s underwear (307).

He’s staring at Boris’ shirtless chest (308).

He’s staring at Boris’ lower abdomen (383).

Theo is jealous of Kotku, he’s even depicted as a pissed ‘house-wife’.

Page 327; ”…But what did bother me -a lot- was how Kotku (I’ll continue to call her by the name Boris gave her, since I can’t now remember her real name) had stepped in overnight and virtually assumed ownership of Boris. First he was busy on Friday night. Then it was the whole weekend–not just the night, but the day too. Pretty soon, it was Kotku this and Kotku that, and the next thing I knew, Popper and I were eating dinner and watching movies by ourselves.”

(Theo’s been depicted as a ‘house-wife’ before on page 277.)

Even though he’s feeling jealous and left behind, he still tries to convince himself and the reader that their relationship was nothing but platonic, that he doesn’t really care whether Boris has a girlfriend or not. Still, it isn’t so simple. He can’t find a right word to describe their relationship.  

”…But who cared what crappy girl Boris liked? Weren’t we still friends? Best friends? Brothers practically? Then again: there was not exactly a word for Boris and me. Until Kotku came along, I had never thought too much about it.” (333)

If their relationship was really platonic, Boris having a girlfriend wouldn’t affect their “friendship” or “brotherhood” in the slightest.  

Theo’s projecting into Boris because of his internalized homophobia. We find out that Theo doesn’t mind Boris showing physical affection, and that he even enjoys it (it’s the only thing that calms him down from his nightly terrors). This is something that he doesn’t want to admit. He’s constantly trying to convince the reader that there aren’t any stronger, possibly romantic, feelings attached. It’s actually quite comedic.  

”The funny thing: I’d worried, if anything, that Boris was the one who was a little too affectionate, if affectionate is the right word. The first time he’d turned in bed and draped an arm over my waist, I lay there half-asleep for a moment, not knowing what to do: staring at my old socks on the floor, empty beer bottles, my paperbacked copy of The Red Badge of Courage. At last–embarrassed–I faked a yawn and tried to roll away, but instead he sighed and pulled me closer, with a sleepy, snuggling motion.  Shh, Potter, he whispered, into the back of my neck. Is only me. It was weird. Was it weird? It was; and it wasn’t. I’d fallen back to sleep shortly after, lulled by his bitter, beery unwashed smell and his breath easy in my ear. I was aware I couldn’t explain it without making it sound like more than it was. On nights when I woke strangled with fear there he was, catching me when I started up terrified from the bed, pulling me back in the covers beside him, muttering in nonsense Polish, his voice throaty and strange with sleep. We’d drowse off in each other’s arms, listening to music from my iPod (Thelonious Monk, The Velvet Underground, music my mother had liked) and sometimes wake clutching each other like castaways or much younger children.” (335)

In the end, we finally find out that they’ve even been sexually intimate. Since this is something they’ve done regularly, it’s more than safe to say that they’re at least sexually attracted to each other. Still, Theo keeps projecting into Boris, saying that he’s the one ”who might have the wrong idea”.

“…And yet (this was the murky part, this was what bothered me) there had also been other, way more confusing and fucked-up nights, grappling around half-dressed, weak light from the bathroom and  everything haloed and unstable without my glasses: hands on each other, rough and fast, kicked-over beers foaming on the carpet–fun and not that big of a deal when it as actually happening, more than worth it for the sharp gasp when my eyes rolled back and I forgot about everything; but when we woke the next morning stomach-down and groaning on opposite sides of the bed it receded into an incoherence of backlit flickers, choppy and poorly lit like some experimental film, theunfamiliar twist of Boris’s features fading from memory already and none of it with any more bearing on our actual lives than a dream. We never spoke of it; it wasn’t quite real; getting ready for school we threw shoes, splashed water at each other, chewed aspirin for our hangovers, laughed and joked around all the way to the bus stop. I knew people would think the wrong thing if they knew, I didn’t want anyone to find out and I knew Boris didn’t either, but all the same he seemed so completely untroubled by it that I was sure it was just a laugh, nothing to take too seriously or get worked up about. And yet, more than once, I had wondered if I should step up my nerve and say something: draw some kind of line, make things clear, just to make absolutely sure he didn’t have the wrong idea. But the moment had never come. Now there was no point in speaking up and being awkward about the whole thing, though I scarcely took comfort in the fact.” (335-336)

Boris feels troubled because his and Theo’s relationship has become so intimate. He’s not sure if Theo feels the same way about him, and that creates a lot of stress and confusion for him. He makes a subconscious decision to resolve the situation by jumping into an impulsive relationship with Kotku (there aren’t any strong feelings attached). The relationship is completely physical, (they’re sexually attracted to each other, that’s it) even though Boris tries to convince Theo it isn’t so. Soon after they start dating, they begin to argue like an old married couple. It even goes so far that Boris punches Kotku (in the face).  

Then Theo’s dad dies, and Theo has to leave Vegas in order to avoid his worst nightmare; social workers. Tartt depicts the 'goodbye’ scene quite dramatically, starting it with Boris humming a song by The Velvet Underground called After Hours. The song is about, you guessed it, unwilling goodbyes, love etc. By inserting this song to the very start, Tartt creates the perfect atmosphere for the whole scene, implying that there are strong romantic feelings between the two. They’ve listened to the song together, and so, Boris tries to manipulate Theo into staying by humming it.  

”…Boris, I realized, was looking up at the sky and humming to himself, a line from one of my mother’s Velvet Underground songs: but if you close the door… the night could last forever…” (392)

The certainty of the situation starts to sink in on Theo, and he starts expressing his true feelings for the first and last time in the novel, in fact, he’s lost all control over himself. Boris realizes that Theo’s expressing his real feelings (probably predicting a confession) and since Boris has stolen the painting (something Theo’s completely unaware of) he’s accepted that he’s completely ruined any chances of continuing the relationship, (knowing that Theo would hate him after finding out) and just can’t bear to hear any more of what Theo’s saying. So, he interrupts Theo by kissing him on the lips. Now, besides the suggestive placement of the kiss, (not only is it in the goodbye scene but its right before Theo’s confession as well) the way Theo reacts to it makes it very clear that this is unusual behavior, and not something Boris has done before, (Theo wouldn’t have missed a chance to make the whole situation seem as platonic as possible, he would have tried to pull some bullshit like ”oh yeah this is something Boris does all the time lmao doesn’t mean anything”. And they know each other so well that they can communicate without words, so I think it’s safe to say that Theo would’ve known about it if it was usual behavior for Boris.) the kiss is clearly more than platonic, to say the least.  

”…Really, you have to come. We can go to Brighton Beach—that’s where all the Russians hang out. Well, I’ve never been there. But the train goes there—it’s the last stop on the line. There’s a big Russian community, restaurants with smoked fish and sturgeon roe. My mother and I always talked about going out there to eat one day, this jeweler she worked with told her all the good places to go, but we never did. It’s supposed to be great. Also, I mean—I have money for school—you can go to my school. No—you totally can. I have a scholarship. Well, I did. But the guy said as long as the money in my fund was used for education—it could be anybody’s education. Not just mine. There’s more than enough for the both of us. Though, I mean, public school, the public schools are good in New York, I know people there, public school’s fine with me.” I was still babbling when Boris said: “Potter.” Before I could answer him he put both hands on my face and kissed me on the mouth. And while I stood blinking—it was over almost before I knew what had happened—he picked up Popper under the forelegs and kissed him too, in midair, smack on the tip of his nose. Then he handed him to me. ”Your car’s over there,” he said, giving him one last ruffle on the head. And—sure enough—when I turned, a town car was creeping up the other side of the street, surveying the addresses. We stood looking at each other—me breathing hard, completely stunned. ”Good luck,” said Boris. ”I won’t forget you.” then he patted Popper on the head. ”Bye, Popchyk. Look after him, will you?” he said to me.” (394-395)

When Theo gets in the cab, he acknowledges his feelings for Boris and confesses his love for him. This is the first and last time he does this (at least according to Theo’s narrative, which as we know, isn’t very reliable).

”Later—in the cab, and afterward—I would replay that moment, and marvel that I’d waved and walked away quite so casually. Why hadn’t I grabbed his arm and begged him one last time to get in the car, come on, fuck it Boris, just like skipping school, we’ll be eating breakfast over cornfields when the sun comes up? I knew him well enough to know that if you asked him the right way, at the right moment, he would do almost anything; and in the very act of turning away I knew he would have run after me and hopped in the car laughing if I’d asked one last time. But I didn’t. And, in truth, it was maybe better that I didn’t—I say that now, though it was something I regretted bitterly for a while. More than anything I was relieved that in my unfamiliar babbling-and-wanting-to-talk state I’d stopped myself from blurting the thing on the edge of my tongue, the thing I’d never said, even though it was something we both knew well enough without me saying it out loud to him in the street—which was, of course, I love you.” (395)

When they run into each other as adults, Theo starts commenting on Boris’ appearance almost immediately. This isn’t something Theo’s done before, his internalized homophobia won’t allow him to. Boris is the only male he depicts this way.  

”…There he was, sliding in across from me, slingin the hair from his face in a gesture that brought the past ringing back. “I was just about to leave.” “Sorry.” Same dirty, charming smile. “Had something to do. Didn’t Myriam explain?” “No she didn’t.” “Well. Is not like I work in accounting office. Look,” He said leaning forward, palms on the table, “don’t be mad! Was not expecting to run into you! I came as quick as I could! Ran, practically!” He reached across with cupped hands and slapped me gently on the cheek. “My God! Such a long time it is! Glad to see you! You’re not glad to see me too?” He’d grown up to be good-looking. Even at his gawkiest and most pinched he’d always had a likable shrewdness about him, lively eyes and quick intelligence, but he’d lost that half-starved rawness and everything else had come together the right way.” (596)

Then we find out that Boris has been embittered this whole time because he ruined his and Theo’s relationship (Thinking that Theo holds a grudge for him because of the painting). So, Boris projects onto Theo. He brings up their sexual intimacy, and offends him;

”…why do I feel like you’re trying to change the subject?” ”Not trying to judge! It’s just—we did crazy things back then. Things I think maybe you don’t remember. No, no!” he said quickly, shaking his head, when he saw the look on my face. ”Not that. Although I will say, you are the only boy I have ever been in bed with!” My laugh spluttered out angrily, as if I’d coughed or choked on something. ”With that—” Boris leaned back disdainfully in his chair, pinched his nostrils shut—”pfah. I think it happens at that age sometimes. We were young, and needed girls. I think maybe you thought it was something else. But, no, wait” he said quickly, his expression changing—I’d scraped back my chair to go— ”wait,” he said again, catching my sleeve, “don’t, please, listen to what I’m trying to tell you, you don’t at all remember the night when we were watching Dr. No?” I was getting my coat from the back of my chair…” (622)

Theo is clearly hurt by Boris’ words, even though he doesn’t admit it.

As if all of this wasn’t already obvious enough, Tartt’s sprinkled all sorts of subtext all over the novel;

Theo takes extraordinary notice of the sex books his therapist has. Tartt is already, this early into the book, implying that sexuality might be a theme for Theo.  (162)

During Theo’s and Boris’ first conversation, Theo asks Boris to say something in one of the multiple languages Boris speaks and he decides to say something quite suggestive, which is; ”fuck you up the ass”. (265)

Theo’s internalized homophobia is taunting him, he says he feels ”shameful”, ”worthless”, ”tainted” and ”wrong”, and that he doesn’t know the origin for these emotions. (440-441)

Theo thinks about Boris every day and everything reminds him of Boris. (465)

Theo still remembers Boris’ home phone number in Vegas and even uses the last digits of it for the combination padlock that’s securing the painting. (532)

Theo confesses that he has googled Boris in the past. (595)

”You know what I did in college?” I was telling him. ”I took Conversational Russian for a year. Totally because of you. I did really shitty in it, actually. Never got good enough to read it, you know, sit down with Eugene Onegin—you have to read it in Russian, they say, it doesn’t come through in translation. But—I thought of you so much! I used to remember little things you’d say—all sorts of things came back to me—oh, wow, listen, they’re playing 'Comfy in Nautica,’ do you remember that? Panda Bear! I totally forgot that album. Anyway. I wrote a term paper on The Idiot for my Russian Literature class—Russian Literature in translation—I mean, the whole time I was reading it I thought about you, up in my bedroom smoking my dad’s cigarettes. It was so much easier to keep track of the names if I imagined you saying them in my head … actually, it was like I heard the whole book in your voice! Back in Vegas you were reading The Idiot for like six months, remember? In Russian. For a long time it was all you did. Remember how for a long time you couldn’t go downstairs because of Xandra, I had to bring you food, it was like Anne Frank? Anyway, I read it in English, The Idiot, but I wanted to get there too, to that point, you know, where my Russian was good enough. But I never did.” (614-615)

Theo depicts Pippa by referring to Boris. (678)

Tartt has placed a character from one of her earlier novels The secret history, Francis Abernathy, a homosexual man who was forced by circumstance to marry a woman, in Theo’s engagement party as a parallel for him. (710)

”Only what is that thing? Why am I the way I am? Why do I care about all the wrong things, and nothing at all for the right ones? Or, to tip it another way: how can I see so clearly that everything I love or care about is illusion, and yet—for me, anyway—all that’s worth living for lies in that charm? A great sorrow, and one I am only beginning to understand: we don’t get to choose our own hearts. We can’t make ourselves want what’s good for us or what’s good for other people. We don’t get to choose the people we are. Because—isn’t it drilled into us constantly, from childhood on, an unquestioned platitude in the culture—? From Willian Blake to Lady Gaga, from Rousseau to Rumi to Tosca to Mister Rogers, it’s a curiously uniform message, accepted from high to low: when in doubt, what to do? How do we know what’s right for us? Every shrink every career counselor, every Disney princess knows the answer: ”Be yourself.” ”Follow your heart.” Only here’s what I really, really want someone to explain to me. What if one happens to be possessed of a heart that can’t be trusted—? What if the heart, for its own unfathomable reasons, leads one willfully and in a cloud of unspeakable radiance away from health, domesticity, civic responsibility and strong social connections and all the blandly-held common virtues and instead straight toward the bonfire, is it better to turn away? Stop your ears with wax? Ignore all the perverse glory your heart is screaming at you? Set yourself on the course that will lead you dutifully towards the norm, reasonable hours and regular medical check-ups, stable relationships and steady career advancement, the New York Times and brunch on Sunday, all with the promise of being somehow a better person? Or—like Boris—is it better to throw yourself head first and laughing into the holy rage calling your name? It’s not about outward appearances but inward significance. A grandeur in the world, but not of the world, a grandeur that the world doesn’t understand. That first glimpse of pure otherness, in whose presence you bloom out and out and out. A self one does not want. A heart one cannot help.” (852-853). Since the main themes of the novel are authenticity and unauthenticity (good and bad, right and wrong) it makes perfect sense to have sexuality be a subtheme.

Love restricts one’s personal life. Committing to something so uncertain and scary, as serious romantic relationships are, is impossible for Boris due to his traumatic childhood. This (aside from thinking he’s ruined their relatonship) is the reason why he’s stayed out of Theo’s life for all these years.  

”…Boris laughed. “And you love her, yes. But not too much.” “Why do you say that?” “Because you are not mad, or wild, or grieving! You are not roaring out to choke her with your own bare hands! Which means your soul is not too mixed up with hers. And that is good. Here is my experience. Stay away from the ones you love too much. Those are the ones who will kill you. What you want to live and be happy in the world is a woman who has her own life and lets you have yours.” (667)

Later, in Amsterdam, during the shootout, Boris physically follows this ideology and his true feelings- he’s ready to die for Theo. Theo confessed his love verbally, this is Boris confessing his love in the way most natural to him, through action;

”…Again Boris moaned, as the guy yanked his hair once more, and from across the car threw me an unmistakable look—which I understood just as plainly as if he’d spoken the words aloud, an urgent and very specific cut of the eyes straight from our shoplifting days: run for it, Potter, go.” (760)

Can a Pulitzer prize-winning author write this blatant subtext accidentally? Is this just another case of cheap queerbaiting? It’s up to you to decide.

———————————————————————————————————–

A look at internalized homophobia and toxic masculinity as presented in the character of Theodore Decker; https://borispav.tumblr.com/post/179768610308/a-look-at-internalized-homophobia-and-toxic

by https://borispav.tumblr.com/

Post on Arthur Rimbaud’s poem; http://queer-deckovskij.tumblr.com/post/171833208225/so-very-important-detail-i-dont-know-if-any-of

by http://queer-deckovskij.tumblr.com/

All page numbers are from my copy of the book, meaning that I’ve changed the ones in the quotations from the original ones to my own.

I received technical writing help from a friend of mine, as I am dyslexic and have trouble expressing myself sometimes, who wants to stay anonymous, thank you anonymous!

[theodyker]

Okay, I read the book and remeber the hints that boris and theo slept together but can you respond to this with all the times its mentioned?

it’s only mentioned two times, once in the vegas chapters when theo briefly reminisces on their drunken hookups and then once more when they reunite as adults and boris says “you’re the only boy i’ve ever been in bed with.” it’s all very vague bc mr. theodore repressed gay decker is very invested in making sure the reader knows there’s nothing to see here, no big deal, moving right along now