O viaţă măruntă

i am presently at a loss for words.

this story is as beautiful as it is tragic — and tragic it is. so many times have i had to stop and stare into the void because it was simply too much to take. it is beautiful in its depiction of friendship, love, and simply life; of finding reasons to keep going and bumping into walls that keep you from it.

it is heart-wrenching and also heart-warming.

i can see how Hanya Yanagihara's storytelling (in this instance) could be an issue for some readers but i, for some reason, enjoyed it. i still have some issues with the development of story and characters and the authenticity of feelings that this book supposedly tries to convey (minor issues i might add) but, for the time being, i'll keep my own counsel.

the fact that the book gave the reader an overview of an entire life, makes one think of one's own — how it's been and how it is going to be — and maybe, even make one consider living it more consciously; if there is something to walk away with from this reading.

altogether, i liked this book. it is unlike anything i've read (at least recently) and it might even find its place amongst this year's favourites.