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mandarinastronaut · 6 years ago

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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.

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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!

#the goldfinch #boreo #theo decker #boris pavlikovsky #donna tartt #theodore decker #tgf #rin's analysis

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