A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara (2015)

The dust jacket of this much-praised novel features a close-up black-and-white photo of the face of a man in great mental and/or physical agony. That image pretty much reflects the life of the novel's central character, Jude St. Francis, from his boyhood of torture and sexual abuse to his adulthood of physical and mental pain which is the result. The image might also reflect the face of the reader (that would be me) who suffers through each new revelation and feels like throwing the book away and keeps compulsively reading anyway, for 700+ torturous pages.

A Little Life starts out as a seemingly familiar story of four young men who become friends during their first year at a prestigious college: Malcolm, a mixed-race rich kid; J.B., the son of Haitian parents; Willem, the Scandinavian-heritage farm boy; and Jude, an enigmatic boy of mysterious origins and ethnicity. It gradually becomes apparent, however, that the focus of the narrative is Jude and his lifelong suffering.

Yanagihara doles out the details of Jude's torments in bits and pieces through most of the novel, with hints beforehand to let us know that some new atrocity is coming. Reading this book is kind of like watching a Dr. Phil show about sexual abuse, with its teases before commercials, like "Find out what Susie's step-father did next, after the break." I kept on reading, but I felt guilty about wanting to know the details, kind of like a voyeur or someone who gawks at a car wreck.

I was also bothered that much of the plot is unbelievable, or highly unlikely at best, although the novel is written in a realistic style, without the tone of an allegory. Up until Jude is 15 years old, almost every person he meets abuses him in some way. Then, when he is 16 and enrolls (on full scholarship) in college, he encounters only people intent on being his friend and protector (with one exception). He is even adopted when he is 30 by a former professor and his wife. He has a doctor who is instantly available to him day or night who more or less enables him to self harm. He and all his many friends all become highly successful and rich and sometimes even famous, with not a loser among them. I could go on and on with details that render this more melodramatic fantasy than a portrait of real life.

And yet...and yet...I could not stop reading. Not that this is a book that is fun to read --sometimes it is torment-- but that it is a book that is impossible not to read. It is a tribute to friendship and love, and an examination of the limits of suffering. It will make you cry. It was shortlisted for the Booker Prize, a National Book Award finalist, and is considered a contender for this year's Pulitzer. As for myself, I feel so conflicted about it that I don't know whether to recommend it to anyone else or not.