I know they say your first love never leaves you, but I don't think they meant it in this way. 

Oh. My. Goodness. Forget A Little Life and The Goldfinch and Shuggie Bain: THIS is the most painful story ever. My chest was in literal pain halfway through book one. 

This is an elegy to the American Dream, and the cost of pursuing life, liberty, and happiness. But what was magical about this narrative was the fall of Clyde: we root for him as our own little brother and want to grab him from the pages, but then, when the cover of my edition became clear, all I could do was withhold my screams of "WHY?" 

I've not seen such a masterful use of 3rd PPOV omniscient storytelling, not only to pull the reader to different sympathies, but to execute basically a masterclass in irony (dramatic and situational). Also rich symbolism, juxtaposition and character foils, Macbethian allusions (the raven and sound at night; the dinner scene kind of), Hamlet parallels (see below). 

"For once here he seemed to be fairly pulled or lured along into it - in endless space where was no end of anything - no plots - no plans - no practical problems to be solved - nothing. This insidious beauty of this place! Truly, it seemed to mock him - this strangeness - this dark pool, surrounded on all sides by those wonderful, soft, fir trees. And the water itself looking like a huge, black pearl cast by some mighty hand... into the bosom of thus valley of dark, green plush... And yet, what did it suggest so strongly? Death! Death! ... But also... so quiet - so shaded - so serene. Even Roberta exclaimed over this. And now he felt for the first time the grip of something seemingly strong, and yet friendly sympathetic, hands laid firmly on his shoulders. The comfort of them! The warmth! The strength!... To be sure, there was Roberta over there" (509-510)