I recently finished Hanya Yanagihara’s novel A Little Life. The novel has lived on my bookshelf for many years. It has travelled with me when I have moved to different countries, and it has felt like a constant. I knew I would get around to reading it one day. Maybe.

To be honest, the talk about this book was the thing that kept me away for so long. The collective sighs of how devastating it was, how harrowing some of the scenes were, and how painful and bittersweet some of the novel’s resolutions made me really wonder if I would be ready for it. What truly impressed me, despite it being one of the most widely read novels of our contemporary times, is that no one, not a single person, ruined the plot or spoiled anything for me. I believe that is a testament to the power of this novel.

I take books with me everywhere I go. I try to avoid doom scrolling with a book. If I have a few minutes to spare whilst waiting for an appointment – I read. And most people never really pay attention to what I am reading, or even ask me anything about the books I have on hand. Even when I am furiously reading and taking notes, no one asks, “Oh, is that a good book?” With A Little Life, it was a completely different story. I have never had so many people stop me to ask, “What do you think of the book?” When I was waiting for a table at the local cafe, a waitress came over to ask where I was up to in the novel because she was reading it too. When I was getting off the train, with A Little Life opened in my hands as I navigated my way through the sliding doors, a man stopped me to ask me if I was struggling with it, because he was finding it hard to get through. I encouraged him to keep going. Friends on social media saw me post about the novel, and wanted to ask what I thought. Everyone knew the book. Many people had read it, wanted to read it, were reading it, or felt inspired by it when they saw me reading it. The very fact that Yanagihara’s novel has been able to do that, in our modern world where attention spans are microscopic, is a real testament to her writing and her novel.

A Little Life is a long novel, well over 700 pages, and it demands attention. It demands to be seen and held (unless you’ve got it on an eReader). The oxymoron of the title and the girth of the novel’s spine is not lost on me or anyone who reads it.

So, what does this novel mean to contemporary readers, ten years after it was released? If I think about my one little life with that book in my hand, it is clear that it still means a great deal to many different people.

A Little Life is epic. It feels Dickensian. It reminds me of Donna Tartt. It is a coming-of-age story. An exploration of friendship and found family. It is a complex portrayal of C-PTSD and mental health. It is a love story. It is the cruelty of life laid bare. It is painful and yet somehow healing. I found the writing, particularly the scenes relating to self-harm and suicidal ideation, difficult but not challenging to get through because I also felt that the care with which Yanagihara handled those topics was beautiful, delicate, and meticulous.

This book seems to confront me, forcing me to question my own life, career, relationships, and goals. I am always a firm believer that good novels make us ask questions about ourselves. It isn’t just about escaping, but instead escaping within ourselves and discovering something new. A Little Life did that for me. And I am sure it will continue to do that for many people to come.

If you’re hesitant to read this book because of some of the contents of the novel – you are well within reason. I would suggest doing a buddy read or getting a group of friends to do it in a book club format with you. It means that you have someone reading it with you, going through the trials of the novel as you do, so you don’t feel alone. Although, if my experiences are to go off – it seems that this novel bridges gaps, builds communities, and allows for frank discussions with strangers.

Tell me: have you read A Little Life yet? Do you plan on it? Tell me your favourite parts, and if, like me, you guessed what would happen to Willem around halfway through the novel. As always, share the reading love.