Three writers, one question: what does desire cost?

This week's reading list is about the body. Not in an abstract way. These three books look at what desire, shame, and time do to real people. One comes from France, one from the American South, one from Belgium. They were written decades apart. But they ask the same question: what price do we pay for who we want?

This is not a comfort reading list. It is a sharp one. All three books are available in Dutch translation. Two have been out for years and deserve a second look. One is newer and still finding its audience.

The three books

En finir avec Eddy Bellegueule — Édouard Louis (2014, Seuil / Dutch: Het einde van Eddy, De Bezige Bij)

Édouard Louis was twenty-one when he published this debut. It caused a scandal in France. It is still causing one. The book follows a boy growing up in a poor village in northern France. He is queer in a place that has no space for it. Louis does not romanticise poverty or victimhood. He is precise and unsparing. The prose is clean and fast. It reads like testimony.

What makes this book unusual is its refusal to be comforting. Louis does not offer redemption at the end. He offers escape — which is different. The book asks whether you can ever fully leave the place that shaped you. It also asks what you lose when you do.

A Dutch translation exists: Het einde van Eddy, published by De Bezige Bij. The translation holds up well. This book is for readers who can handle difficult material about class and violence. It is not a book for a quiet Sunday. It is a book that stays with you.

Available at independent bookshops and online via Bol.com and the De Bezige Bij website.

A Little Life — Hanya Yanagihara (2015, Doubleday / Dutch: Een klein leven, Prometheus)

This one needs a content warning. Yanagihara's novel follows four friends over several decades in New York. At the centre is Jude, a man whose past is slowly revealed. The book is long — over 700 pages. It earns every one of them, and then some.

A Little Life is about male friendship, queer desire, and trauma that does not resolve neatly. Yanagihara's style is operatic but controlled. She never lets the emotion spill over into sentimentality. That is the book's great achievement. It is brutal and tender at the same time.

Critics disagree about this novel. Some find it manipulative. Others consider it one of the best American novels of the century so far. Both positions make sense. What is not in dispute is that it is serious, ambitious work. Read the first fifty pages. You will know immediately whether it is for you.

If you are interested in how queer literature handles the body and suffering, this is essential reading. It pairs naturally with Louis — both writers refuse easy comfort. The Dutch translation, Een klein leven, is published by Prometheus and widely available.

If you enjoy stories where queer life intersects with sport and community, you might also enjoy the recent discussion around Cleat Cute, which is in development as a TV series.

Eeuwige jeugd — Saskia de Coster (2020, Das Mag)

Saskia de Coster is Belgian and writes in Dutch. She is not as well known internationally as Louis or Yanagihara. She should be. Eeuwige jeugd — Eternal Youth — follows a woman approaching forty who refuses to age gracefully or quietly. The book is sharp, funny, and quietly devastating.

De Coster writes about desire and the female body in a way that does not moralize. Her protagonist is not always likeable. She is always interesting. The book handles queerness as part of a broader picture of identity and time. It does not treat it as a problem to be solved.

The prose is witty and precise. De Coster has a gift for the sentence that surprises you halfway through. The book is shorter than the other two on this list. It is also more immediately enjoyable to read. For Dutch-language readers, this is an easy entry point into De Coster's work.

No English translation exists yet. For Dutch and Belgian readers, the book is published by Das Mag and available at independent bookshops and online.

For readers curious about how queer identity intersects with history and political memory, the history of the pink triangle offers useful context for understanding why books like these still matter.

What these three books share

Louis, Yanagihara, and De Coster all write about the cost of being yourself. None of them offer simple answers. Louis writes about escape from a suffocating place. Yanagihara writes about surviving — or not surviving — what was done to you. De Coster writes about refusing the story society tells you about who you should become.

Together, these three books form an argument. Desire is not just romantic. It is political. It shapes your body, your choices, your past, and your future. Good literature makes you feel that rather than just understand it.

Start with De Coster if you want something sharp and readable. Go to Louis if you want something urgent and uncomfortable. Save Yanagihara for when you have time, patience, and a steady nerve.