“Wasn’t friendship its own miracle?” Hanya Yanagihara wonders in her widely praised second novel, shortlisted for this year’s Man Booker Prize. Whether this miracle can survive the tests of growing up and growing old is decided through the relationship between four friends in modern New York: boisterous artist JB, pragmatic architect Malcolm, easygoing actor Willem and shadowy lawyer Jude. The men’s class and racial backgrounds are as varied as one would expect for a tale set in New York; Malcolm languishes in the comfort of a trust fund, but Willem is the son of dirt poor ranch hands, “a guest in the lives of the beautiful and rich.” No one dares guess at the origins of haunted Jude, who arrives at college a backpack that contains everything he owns.
Yanagihara’s densely detailed storytelling riskily forgoes much context to focus on the men’s inner lives, with the spotlight coming to rest on Willem and Jude. As the novelist’s forensic gaze homes in on Jude’s horrific past of sexual abuse, the 700 plus page novel becomes gruelling. The meticulous descriptions of self-injury are so regular that one wonders how there could be any flesh left to cut. There is scant consolation in Jude’s occasional uplifting moments; his is a character so constantly and appallingly victimised by his life and history that the reader’s faith ultimately ends up stretched thin. Yet, despite abundant description, other characters such as Malcolm feel inadequately fleshed out. An upsetting read that mistakes horror for depth.
