It is no longer a secret within humanity that life is short--perhaps even too short to experience all good things in life. There's always too many good movies to watch, too many good songs to listen, too many delicious cakes to enjoy... but if this year you are planning to read one--and only one--book, make it Hanya Yanagihara's sophomore novel A Little Life.
I don't know how to start talking about this book--not then, when I went straight to review it on Goodreads, and not even now, when it's been about a month since I finished reading (and weeping). I spent quiet a long time to finish, because there was no way life didn't happen during the course of the 700+ pages. I brought this book as a companion for my flight to Bangkok back in April, but it gave me a terrible sickness on the plane. I just couldn't--God, I don't know why! But I tell you this: this is the kind of book that stays with you; it lingers for a long time that I haven't even done feeling the aftermath. This is the kind of book that doesn't come too often in life. I haven't even lived my life long enough or read lots enough to know that, but believe me when I say that you are going to thank me for recommending me this book someday.
The story started out as something of a weird, retro image of four young men fresh out of a prestigious New England college. Jude, JB, Willem and Malcolm are going to be the main characters of the story, even though as the story developed, I feel like Jude was the sun, and everybody else was some planets that revolve around him. Granted, this novel is about Jude. I just wasn't convinced enough by reading the first twenty pages. At the end of the day, I feel like the main focus of the friendship should also involve Andy Contractor, their best friend and orthopedist who's also the only doctor in the world that Jude trusts his condition with.
Now, I knew even before I purchased this book that it's going to be a gruesome experience. It's an upsetting novel at worst, but also sweet and pretty John Green at best. What makes the whole story compelling is how Jude St. Francis (he's the sun, remember?) theoretically went full circle, through so much in his life, only to go back to the place where he started. Now, Jude is a ruthless litigator at a certain New York law firm. Nobody knows where he came from, what ethnicity he was, his sexual orientation, and he never ever mentioned his past. The present Jude is what everybody had. Now imagine how annoying to have a friend who only listens but never shares.
Jude battles a kind of self-waged war against himself every single day. He grew up being told that he does not deserve love, that he's unworthy of kindness, that he was made for a certain purpose. He was raised in a certain way that he believed that is what he is until the death of him. He's reluctant to feel love--any kind of love--from anybody because he think he doesn't deserve it. He pushes people away, even people who made it clear that they care about him, that they do not expect anything in return from him. When someone told him that they love him, he's convinced that it's only because they don't know him well enough; or the time hasn't come for them to see how terrible he really is, and that they would be disappointed to have loved him at all. Jude basically sabotaged himself into not feeling happiness at all.
The book could use some slightly better editing, but the words were so deep--sometimes philosophical--and beautiful, I wish I could frame them. I'll admit that it's a bit too long, but to cut any part of it will lessen the beauty of the little life that we're supposed to witness. We were given a chance to grow old together with Jude St. Francis; let's not make it not worth the while.
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