The first sentence in the book could, in many ways, stand in for the whole thing. But this is only what the prologue is doing in the broadest of terms.

Which is exactly the point: it’s a ploy, a way to get a reader invested, telling them that you killed someone and that you’re going to explain yourself. Of course, on a first read, we don’t know who Bunny is, or why they’ve killed him. In the prologue, our narrator Richard sketches out what has become the defining moment of his life: when he and his friends kill someone named Bunny. It’s easy to understand where this description comes from-after all, our narrator gives the game up right away. The Secret History is so frequently referred to as a “why-done-it” (as opposed to a “who-done-it”) that I can’t identify the original source of the phrase (it was probably Tartt’s publicity team, all things considered). No small feat for the first page and a half of a debut novel. This time, I was struck anew by the book’s masterful prologue, which manages to beguile the reader, fire up the plot, and preview Tartt’s artistic concerns all at once. So you may not be surprised to hear that I’ve been reading it again recently. My re-reads usually happen in the winter, but I’ve noticed that I also gravitate to the novel during moments of personal anxiety and uncertainty. And unfortunately (fortunately?) for me, if I pick the book up to read a page or two, or find a favorite line, I always feel compelled to read the whole thing again. I should say that I don’t make it a point to do this it’s more that, somehow, I wind up with the book in my hands at regular intervals.

I have been re-reading Donna Tartt’s The Secret History every other year for almost two decades.

The Secret History by Donna Tartt