The People in the Trees
Reviews
deeply disturbing and disquieting. Will follow me for a long time
Utterly disturbing and unsettling. The book started off quite slow but it hooks you 80 pages in. The plot flows strangely eerie in the middle and towards the end, you’ll feel disgusted. It’s not as brutal as A Little Life but it’s still messed up in its own way.
I picked up this book after A Little Life, which I loved. This book first drew me in with the title and summary, but once again similar to A Little Life, I needed to finish this book albeit over many seatings. Although fictional, it felt real enough and the issues timeless. I was and still am unsettled when I think of this book and the moral ambiguities/relativism.
‼️‼️‼️📝✏️📓🧪🧬🔬⌛️⏳⏰🌃🏝️⛺️🏕️🛖⛰️🗺️🛩️🏆🌏☀️🌳🌴🌿☘️🌱🪵🌲🪴🍁🍂🎋🌾🦧🐖🐛🪰🪲🪳🐜🥼👨🏻🦳😵💫🫨😰🫣😩🤬😡🤯
there’s this barrier to affection between the reader and the main character that perfectly works with the reality of his actions. no one is lovable, some are funny. the footnotes, the world building, true dedication and effort, which kept me coming back. stands out as an ode to writing and the possibilities therein.
This is the last Hanya Yanagihara work I read and I think it’s fair to say that this one is her most challenging, most different than the others. Hanya Yanagihara is famous for A Little Life – that was the first book that got me into her works. I was captivated and immediately bought her latest work, To Paradise. That was also a great experience, it has elements of A Little Life: the drama, the yearning and longing, the sense of loneliness. So I was surprised to find that The People in the Trees was… quite different than the rest.
I went into the book practically blind. I didn’t read any reviews or even the summary. But I knew the premise: a doctor searching for an immortal tribe. What I didn’t know is how insane and morally-challenging the story actually is. I don’t want to spoil too much about this book, so here’s what I will say: The People in the Trees is a provocative work. It challenges what we know about scientific discovery and morality. I found myself hating the main character for the things he did. Arguably, Norton Perina is one of the worst main character I’ve ever read. He’s just so sick and twisted in the way that’s not even attractive.
The first part of the story, before we get into the expedition plot was slow-paced. But after the researchers finally goes into the forest and found the lost tribe, the story picks up and everything is happening all at once. I think you’ll either love or hate this book. It’s not something I would recommend to everyone (as I fear people would take this book at face value) but I highly recommend reading this book if you’re a fan of weird and morally-ambiguous book, like Earthlings (Sayaka Murata). For me, The People in the Trees is definitely one of my favorite read from 2023. Not my most favorite, but the experience of reading the book… it was just very unforgettable.
no one touches hanya yanagihara’s writing abilities
I found this very entertaining and stimulating. My favorite part might have been the amazing descriptions of the jungle and the story woven about the native people. I think there are great existential questions woven into the narrative, and it was such a fun audiobook. Idk if it’s a spoiler but I wish she would have just not written the last like 20 pages because I don’t think it did anything beneficial or revealing for the book. Would recommend reading, and it’s great on audiobook !
100 Years of Solitude vibes and wonderful writing but some plotlines are grotesque
well-written but horrifying in the extreme
Astounding world-building, but ultimately maddening to spend so much time with the protagonist's POV and voice, which were masterfully rendered but teeth-grindingly infuriating.
incredible writing i did vomit at the end tho so thanks for that hanya
Is anyone else uncomfortable with Yanagihara's continued traumatization of gay men in her books?
Amazing premise, intriguing cold character who's morality you question up until the end about half way through it picks up as he gets to the island very interesting
Großartiges Buch mit einer ungewöhnlichen Geschichte, einer sehr interessanter Aufmachung und einem Protagonisten, den man nicht so recht mögen, aber auch nicht hassen kann. Unbedingte Leseempfehlung!
I don’t know if I want to cry, vomit, or take a very long walk.
The most addicting deep dive into someone’s psyche that I’ve probably ever read. I hate to admit that I could not put this down and, as much as I knew it would come back to bite me, I continued.
Just as A little life, this book has something raw and human and dubious. It is full of moral realism, and it has something both unearthly and earthly. I love Yanagihara because of her prose, her literary excellence and with how she is able to unveil human aspects as no other (and maybe especially the less charming and morally doubtful aspects). She is so strong in characterisation. Definitely an auto-buy author.
This disturbing novel captured the narrator's precise (if occasionally unreliable) descriptions and scientific methods to the point of tedium. Should have been much shorter. (Boosting the listening speed to 1.25 helped tremendously.)
3.5
A good book with an un-likeable protagonist and a very biased storyteller. A very interesting book with a rather fast paced ending.
** spoiler alert ** There was a slight lull in the storytelling for me about 3/4 of the way through. It went on about how his research went when he got home, and didn't pick up or return to the story at hand until he went back to adopt children. I feel like these pages could have been cut out to make for a more digestible length. Also, there is no mention of the main character having committing the crime he is accused of until the last few pages, and so I waited in anticipation for that until I actually got to reading it and had this feeling that I was wishing I hadn't. It should have gone into more exploration of the crime and how he got to a place to be the person to do that at all, or it should have left it out entirely and left the mystery to the reader, like I thought it was going to do. Having a couple pages at the very end of the book - literally labelled postscript - to detail such events but not explain why they happened is just...well, it's just kind of sick. These things being said, Hanya's writing is unmatched, and this book still made my list of favourites for the year.
10/10 would not recommend but this was so disgustingly & horrifically captivating that i couldn’t eat for four days and i have absolutely no regrets. very excited to actually start the year off with a four star 🤩 also this has the same child abuse & assault trigger warnings as a little life, but this also has a lot animal abuse & experimentation. also men being very gross.
Highlights
(...) and even Esme, for once, wordless. I did not look at her, but around her seemed the sickening scent of menstrual blood, a tinnily feminine smell so oppressive that it was a relief finally to begin the day’s climb and to find it vanishing slowly into the odors of the jungle. And from then on I was unable to look at her without thinking of oozing liquids, as thick and heavy as honey but rank and spoiled, seeping from her every hidden orifice.
The U’ivuans value conversation, you know, and to be without it is to be mo’o kua’au—I suppose the nearest translation is ‘without throat,’ although kua’au can also mean ‘friends’ or ‘love.’ So, without friends. Without love.
He was my ambassador to the world outside my own.
For years afterward, I had dreams in which my mother appeared in strange forms, her features sewn onto other beings in combinations that seemed both grotesque and profound: as a slippery white fish at the end of my hook, with a trout’s gaping, sorrowful mouth and her dark, shuttered eyes; as the elm tree at the edge of our property, its ragged clumps of tarnished gold leaves replaced by knotted skeins of her black hair; as the lame gray dog that lived on the Muellers’ property, whose mouth, her mouth, opened and closed in yearning and who never made a sound.
You would think that I would be able by now to accept the changed circumstances of Norton’s, and by extension my, life, but something in me resists; he was, after all, part of my routine for almost three decades.
Surely there must be an end to this life, for there is an end to every life.
And it was with Owen that I shared my earliest, most fervent craving: that of leaving, of escape. I can't remember articulating this desire specifically, but I can remember my sense, from my very early years, that life was not Indiana, and certainly not Lindon, and possibly not even America. Life was elsewhere, and it was frightening and vast and mountainous and uncomfortable. I believe Owen knew this as well, the way some children know that they want to remain close to home, and it was this mutual determination — that where we were beginning would not be where we stayed, nor where we ended — that, more than interests or predilections, both united us and encouraged us to endure the obligations of childhood until we could leave it behind and pursue life in earnest.
For what more could we presume to ask from death — but kindness?
Parents disappoint us in many ways and it is best not to expect anything of them at all, for chances are that they won't be able to deliver it.
But until we find it we are searchers, two figures moving through a landscape while outside and around us the world is born and lives and dies and the stars burn themselves slowly into darkness
And so they remained frozen in their vigilance, togging between hope and despair, waiting for their world to be restored.
It was startling to remember that I had once been one of those people as well. Now, however, I no longer was.
Age, then, is not something that can he understood; it is a preoccupation of the old, and the old is anyone older than oneself. It is a subject that has no relevance, a subject that seems a bore, an indulgence and lament of the weak-minded and feeble and querulous.
gods are for stories and heavens and other realms; they are not to be seen by men. But when we encroach on their world, when we see what we are not meant to see, how can anything but disaster follow?
l had gone into science for its adventure, but to them, adventure was some- thing to be endured, not sought, on the road to inevitable greatness.
As I grew older, I came to realize that death had been easy for my mother; to fear death, you must first have something to tether you to life. But she had not. It was as if she had been preparing for her death the entire time I knew her. One day she was alive; the next, not. And as Sybil said, she was lucky. For what more could we presume to ask from death—but kindness?
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