In the year 2012, novelist Yiyun Li tried to take her own life. She wrote about the experience in a series of essays. Months after the book came out, in 2017 Yiyun Li’s 16-year-old son stepped in front of a train and killed himself.
After experiencing this kind of intense personal pain and unfathomable loss, it isn't easy to imagine the author embracing topics that stray from loss and death. Indeed, in her short story Alone, she writes, “When the dead departed, they took away any falsehoods that they might have allowed us to believe while alive; we who are left behind have to embark on a different life since the dead are no longer here to help us.”
The different life she alludes to is a life where people understand that terrible things happen all the time, and when moral or intellectual passivity may be preferable to a life of anguish. The author states, “True grief, beginning with disbelief and often ending elsewhere, was never too late.”
In this collection, the “child who is full of woe” – Wednesday’s child – is omnipresent. In the first collection that bears the title, Rosalie, who lost her daughter to suicide when she was 15, takes off to Europe as the COVID-19 pandemic rages outside. Rosalie’s mother ushers in a harsh verdict: “Any time a child chooses that way out, you have to wonder what the parents did.” Rosalie’s solace is that her love for her own daughter was kinder.
“Alone” is a breathtaking story. Suchen, whose past is haunted, is in an Idaho ski resort where she meets an older loner named Walter. Suchen’s marriage is falling apart and Walter? He is in the throes of grief after his wife past away earlier that year. Suchan reveals that at 13, she and five close friends made a suicide pact; only she survived. In an echo of “Wednesday’s Child”, she tells him, “You want to ask why. Everyone did. The truth is I could not answer that question at the time and I still can’t answer it.”
In “When We Were Happy We Had Other Names”, we encounter Jiayu and Chris arranging funeral services for their son, who died by his own hand. She reflects, “The death of a child belonged to a different realm – that of a Greek tragedy or a mawkish movie." Understanding that grief was often disbelief, she takes to listing everyone she met who is now dead, and learns something about her grandfather and the legacy of grief.
This reader suspects that the last story, “All Will be Well”, is the fulfillment of the author’s promise to her hairdresser, who wished the narrator to write a romantic novel about her and her first love. The enormity of her requested task weighs on her as she recalls she could not write a note to her children, required by their school to soothe them in the event of a catastrophic earthquake. “All will be well, all will be well, and every kind of thing shall be well, yet I could not even write a lying note to console my children.”
Words fail. Life is unknowable. Grief is in a whole different realm. But somehow, Yiyun Li weaves together stories that dive into the meaning of mortality and the reasons to trudge on.