Hanya Yanagihara’s second novel is equal parts soulful and soul-crushing. It has some of the most exhilarating sentences I’ve ever had the joy of reading, but at some points, as much as I love it, it delves a little into trauma porn. It’s not for the faint of heart, but past the ugliness and past the despair, it’s nothing short of marvelous– a lot like life itself.