As rarely as I say this, it’s been an emotional week on my end. My usual deadpan expressions have soured into a sort of gloom that can only be described as numbness—a state that has thoroughly tortured Dea for the past two days. She had wisely quit the book before it even began, leaving me to brave this journey alone.
Yet, I rarely felt alone, mostly because I constantly found occasions to nag her during her meetings (and my own) whenever the aftershocks of misery hit unforgivingly. I would sit by her side while she was entrenched in a Zoom meeting, wearing her headphones, and try to silently but aggressively mouth the words, “WILLEM DIED.” All of these storylines—the cutting, Jude’s profound depression, JB’s addiction, the horrific physical and sexual abuse, and Willem and Malcolm’s abrupt ends—resulted in mini-rants scattered throughout my days. Dea, Rina, and a few others have borne the brunt of it. But Dea is no longer entertaining it; she now tiptoes around the house, strictly avoiding humming "Hey Jude" for fear of triggering another one of my tirades.
So, let me close this chapter with some finality. I need to move on. We have a moving day next week, some work stuff to handle, and Oscar Wao waiting for me.
Key Takeaways from the Trauma
Masterful (Though Dragging) Storytelling This is easily one of the best-written books I’ve ever come across, despite a dragging ending. Hanya Yanagihara deserves immense respect—not for her apparent internal need for sadism, but for the brilliant, life-building narratives she crafts for each character. She perfectly captures the short stints of every setting: a New York indie party in a run-down apartment, the daily struggles of starving artists, the grind of an architectural firm, the monotony of taking the train, getting makeup-ready for a blockbuster movie, or navigating an abusive relationship. She immerses you in a staggeringly wide range of human experiences. Props to her research savviness. Greatness is greatness.
The Haunting Consistency of Jude's Psychology Jude's character arc was consistent through and through. I haven't practiced or studied psychology in about six years, but if my memory serves me well, Lorna Benjamin would be damn proud of how accurately the roots of self-emancipation and self-harm were depicted. Brother Luke—who was technically Jude’s first close relationship and father figure—hit all the exact, tragic buttons required for long-term abuse to take root and persist long after their final encounter. Jude tragically carries the ghosts of Brother Luke and Dr. Traylor into his relationships with Caleb, and eventually, with Willem.
God Bless Willem When I come across people with genuinely good hearts, I often whisper to Dea, “We need to have more so-and-so in our lives.” And man, do we need more Willems. Willem’s capacity to love others stemmed from his relationship with his brother (who had Cerebral Palsy), to whom he gave so much love and received none in return. To Willem, that was the perfect ratio.
The Accuracy of the Little Details Did I mention Yanagihara’s research? When Jude was actively suicidal, Harold kept obsessively making future plans and begging for commitments from him. It’s those tiny, realistic details that break you.
The Reality of Systemic Abuse Abuse is real. Some people, who appear like absolute superstars on the outside just like Jude, carry the heavy baggage of a hundred abusers. While psychological care has improved, an ever-changing criteria for referrals and a surfeit of competing psychotherapeutic methods didn’t do Jude justice. True healing requires taking the individual experience deeply into account—but who has the resources or the emotional capital to sit through a lengthy Yanagihara-style narrative to get the full picture?
The Nuance of Queer Attraction This book is heavily LGB-centric. It focuses primarily on the fluid nature of relationships. The part where Willem, already partnered with Jude, states that he isn’t gay but simply "in love with Jude," reflects a reality I’ve witnessed before. It’s a stark reminder of how complex attraction really is, and how absurd our rigid categories can feel to the individuals living within them.
Final Thoughts
I hope this is it. This is the last book review I ever intend to attempt, but it needed to be purged from my system. It’s 6:05 AM right now, so God knows what ungodly hour I woke up just to write this.
Up next: the Euros (it's coming home), a heavy work week, and hopefully The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, which will hopefully rescue me from the lingering regret of not being able to help Jude out more. He’s fictional, I know, but I still feel like I did nothing.
Time for a run.
(Note: This was originally posted on my IG a few days back. I always thought it belonged on the blog, but it took me a few days to remember my password. :) I might be writing more regularly soon, as I found the process of drafting this little review incredibly therapeutic. Edited to a longer version this time)
