The immersive genius of Hanya Yanagihara's “A Little Life”
By Niall Cotton
Yanagihara's 2015 novel A Little Life was shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize and has received global recognition. She shifted her attention from magazine editorials to novel writing, and still while maintaining a senior position in the T: New York Times Magazine, she wrote the novel that is “A Little Life”.
Growing up in Hawaii, she attended college and moved to New York to pursue her desire to be a publicist in the big apple. Only having written one book before “A Little Life”, the masterful novel discusses the hardships of adult life and explores the burden that a damaged childhood can bring.
I read the book out of pure fascination and intrigue. I heard many comments online saying that this was the most miserable book people had ever read and that it scarred for life. While that may be partially true, I got so much more out of it than just how sad it is. I was introduced to how rich a friendship can be, how much love can be felt for someone, how much one would sacrifice in silence for one they adore. It was a truly enriching novel, and while it did make me cry to an embarrassing extent, I came out of the novel refreshed and given a new lease on my relationships.
Many books are read as a form of escapism, as a way to release oneself from the daily trials that life presents. Hanya Yanagihara's 2015 novel delivers this escapism in an alternative way. Packed in 720 pages, the book bursts with pain and angst from start to end, with watershed moments scattered throughout. The book follows four main characters: Jude St. Francis, wounded but brilliantly bright and enigmatic; Willem, attentive, kind and handsome; Jean-Baptiste, bold, quick-witted and full of energy; Malcolm Irvine, introverted and privileged.
The novel observes the lives of these four friends, from the conception of their friendships at their university, up until later life. There is no plot, as it is entirely character-based, leaving you fully engaged and deeply invested in the characters' lives. While there are four protagonists, the novel mainly focuses on Jude. Many elements of Jude are left up to interpretation at the beginning of the book. He has a mysterious past, ambiguous ethnicity and unaccountable health issues, creating a craving for an explanation for the reader. Many books that leave plots cryptic lose the reader's attention and interest, but Yanagihara perfectly times her placements of descriptions of Jude’s past, supplying the reader little snippets of context that provide a strong desire to consume the rest of the novel. Jude's past is slowly unravelled, and we learn about the horrific abuse and mental trauma he endured as a child. This is placed parallel to an ageing Jude, a successful lawyer in a large New York Law firm but who is still reeling from his childhood trauma, and it creates a beautifully transparent look into why Jude's frail mental health is the way it is.
Ostensibly, this novel is a Bildungsroman, but provides so much more for the reader. Yanagihara tackles huge topics, stretching from racial identity, integrity, mental health, loyalty, sexual identity and most evidently, friendship. The novel gives the reader a fly on the wall’s perspective on these four characters, allowing the reader to fully embrace the intricacies of their friendship. As a collective, they experience arguments, heartfelt moments, the loss of loved ones, abuse, drug addiction, as well as the general feeling of being lost while being in your twenties. Friendship is a topic that is heavily covered throughout literary history, but Yanagihara’s use of vulnerability and pain builds such a great connection with the characters, so much so that when something unfortunate happens to one of the characters, I found myself outwardly crying at the words on the page. Never in my life have I had a book move me to such an extent. It has left a lasting impression on me, one that I will value and hold within me for a very long time.
The novel itself is timeless. Being set in New York City, there is no mention of the September 11th attacks, nor are there any mentions of phone usage, which creates this subversive bubble that can be entered by anyone, anywhere, or at any time. Having no historical event that anchors the book gives it so much accessibility, which therefore adds to the immersive experience of ‘A Little Life’.
This book was truly escapism, but one that doesn't pander to an idealistic reality, but one that is gritty, powerful and emotional.