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Oh boy, this was a trip.
I hated Jayne and June – they were dysfunctional and deeply unlikable. Their problems were stupid with easy fixes, and they kept making the wrong choices repeatedly, almost as if they were purposefully trying to make things worse. In the beginning, there wasn’t enough information to figure out what had happened in their relationship to leave them in this stilted, awkward place, and it made me, as the reader, feel uncomfortable as well. It didn’t make sense, and I kept asking myself why I was reading Yolk – was I even enjoying it?
The narrative is totally character-driven and not a lot happens plot-wise, but the characters go through a lot. Every chapter opens the door a little wider, shining more light onto the lives of these sisters and their relationship. It took me so long to start liking them, though. Like, up until the last few chapters, I was still questioning why I hadn’t stopped reading when, suddenly, I realised I didn’t actually hate them anymore, and I finally understood their relationship. At that point, I realised that I was really enjoying Yolk, and then – it was over. How could it end like that?! It felt so sudden – I had barely accepted my love of this book before the door was slammed shut and the story was over.
Sisters never stand a chance to be friends. We’re pitted against each other from the moment we’re born. A daughter is a treasure. Two is a tax.
I think anyone with a sister will find something in this story that resonates with them. I don’t even have legitimate drama with my sister (that I’m consciously aware of at least…), but then again, I think we can all appreciate how subjective memory can be. Yolk demonstrates this so well by showing how two people growing up so close together in the same family can have entirely different memories and experiences of the same events. The exploration of Jayne and June’s relationship is a poignant reminder of this, and by the end, I was living for it.
"I think just being in a family is what screws you up. I’m never going to fully understand them. And it’s fucked up because that means they’re never going to understand me. But who knows." I shrug. "Maybe it’s designed that way for a reason. Families are such fucked-up tiny cults."
"Makes sense," he says. "Marriages are the original tiny cult."
I stare out the window. What’s the point? The planet is on fire and everything is random.
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