A Little Life

Yanagihara parcels out the horrific picture of Jude’s past in small doses throughout the novel rather than narrating it all at once. This technique serves multiple purposes. First, it draws in the reader: Through hints given early on, we know bits and fragments of Jude’s past, but each new fragment we get only leaves us more interested in the full picture. Second, the average reader would likely find the experience of reading Jude’s full history in one narrative chunk too difficult; the details are so harrowing that even reading them in small fragments proves challenging.

Third, and most importantly, the segmented telling of Jude’s past mirrors Jude’s own thought patterns. The demons from his past are always lurking just under the surface. On any given day, some sense memory from the hotels he shared with Brother Luke, Dr. Traylor’s basement, or the children’s home might invade a happy scene at work or home. Moreover, the logic he formed as a child continues to inform his entire adult life; he never abandons his underlying certainty that he inspires disgust and that he cannot trust anyone to love him unconditionally. Because he is unable to shed this logic, Jude maintains a childlike presence throughout the novel. He may have a high-powered job in an influential New York City law firm, but the author does not actually show him in action at this job, leaving that side of him feeling like a make-believe self he inhabits for long portions of each workday. Not a day goes by that his childhood does not influence his behavior and thoughts, and Yanagihara’s slow dispensing of the narrative of that childhood reflects this continuous presence.

The greatest influence that gender has on the expression of emotion in the novel is Jude’s shame over his sexual abuse at the hands of adult men in his childhood. A woman with the same past would doubtless struggle to overcome similar feelings of shame because self-blame is common in abuse victims. However, the common societal narrative about sexual assault is that its victims are usually women. The average person knows that men experience sexual assault but recognizes that occurrence as much less frequent. Jude never openly states that he considers his past more shameful because he is a man, but the author reveals how extraordinarily sensitive he is about being perceived as weak. He hates the moments when his legs betray him with pain episodes not only because he hurts but because they usually involve people witnessing his disability. He recoils at the thought of his friends having to care for him increasingly as he ages. Knowing this sensitivity of Jude’s, the reader can reasonably infer that Jude carries extra shame about his childhood because of feelings that as a man he should have been able to prevent his own victimization.

At the same time, while Jude’s circle of male friends may be unusually sensitive and in touch with their own feelings, even they often struggle with Jude’s reticence about his past, wary of transgressing his strict boundaries. While female friendships are often characterized by open, honest, emotionally laden conversation, men are not as encouraged to practice this kind of communication. When Jude repeatedly opts for silence or misdirection in response to questions about his past, his friends have next to no tools to handle his behavior. They surrender to his silence quickly, not wanting to upset the precarious balancing act of friendship with him.