How does a small group of college students get drawn into seeking the ecstasy and divine madness of the ancient Greek cult of Dionysus, with all its chaotic consequences?

What drives our main character and narrator, Richard, a restless soul seeking something “more” than his boring upbringing, a “more” he cannot articulate, and who is adopted into the group?

What are the limits of friendship – is loyalty absolute and irrevocable in the face of the most extreme demands?  At what point does a friend say “enough!”, or does the reader feel bound to disown the main characters who the author has seductively invited us to identify with?

Are the events that unfold and consume the group just the result of impulsive and stumbling recklessness, or are they the victims of some cold and calculating psychopathic manipulation, and if so, by whom?

These are some of the questions Tartt puts to us as she herself draws us inexorably into journeying with the group on their quest, feeding us tantalising but irresistible titbits of information about what is unfolding.

Part psychological drama, part murder mystery (not whodunnit, but how/why-dunnit), part morality tale, the plot proceeds slowly at first, building an emotional intensity that is essential to the story. This intensifies in part two as Tartt drags the group with deliberate slowness over the burning coals of their guilt, remorse and the reality of the consequences of their actions, toward mental disintegration.

Like the ancient Greek tragedy plays it echoes, there is no escape in the final reel, and each of them has to confront themselves and justify their own continuing existence.

Mike Tyler (Drouin Chapter)