Fraught desire to protect those we love

WHILE this book may appear daunting in its length of 701 pages, it rewards lie in being a bold, richly related novel spanning three centuries about lovers, family, loss and the elusive promise of utopia.

In an alternate version of 1893 America, New York is part of the Free States, where people may live and love whomever they please (or so it seems).

The fragile young scion of a distinguished family resists betrothal to a worthy suitor, drawn to a charming music teacher of no means.

Then, in a 1993 Manhattan besieged by the Aids epidemic, a young Hawaiian man lives with a far older and wealthier partner, hiding a troubled childhood.

And in a futuristic 2093, a world exists awash with plagues, governed by totalitarian rule. Here, a powerful scientist’s damaged granddaughter tries to navigate life without him and to solve the mystery of her husband’s disappearance.

The three time frames come together as recurring notes and themes amalgamate: A townhouse in Washington Square Park in Greenwich Village; illness, and treatments; wealth and squalor; the weak and the strong; race; the definition of family, and of nationhood; the danger of righteousness in the powerful, and ultimately the need to find an earthly paradise, but the harsh reality that it can’t exist.

Described as “a work of emotional genius”, Yanagihara demonstrates our aching desire to protect those we love – partners, lovers, children, friends, family and even our fellow citizens, and what happens when we are unable to do so.