Donna Tartt is one of my favorite writers, largely on the strength of The Secret History, a modern masterpiece. The Goldfinch is similar to that book in many ways, but I found myself disappointed by it. Tartt pushes her talent for setting description, used so wonderfully in that book, too far in The Goldfinch, and you get descriptions of New York City streets and dreams and paintings that go on for entire pages while nothing else happens. The description starts to cover up the story rather than animate it.