My Year of Rest and Relaxation
Ottessa Moshfegh
“I knew in my heart--this was, perhaps, the only thing my heart knew back then - that when I’d slept enough, I’d be okay. I’d be renewed, reborn. I would be a whole new person, every one of my cells regenerated enough times that the old cells were just distant, foggy memories.”
My Year of Rest and Relaxation had the opposite effect on me. I couldn’t sleep. Like so many of Moshfegh’s works, this book requires you to run, blindfolded, through her webbed and unmapped jungle. You don’t ask questions for fear of their answers; you trust her, but only because going back would mean going back alone. Unnerving, offensive, magnetic... You’ll refuse to remove the heavy veil she’s set over your eyes, lest you find that it’s become permanent.
My Year of Rest and Relaxation had the opposite effect on me. I couldn’t sleep. Like so many of Moshfegh’s works, this book requires you to run, blindfolded, through her webbed and unmapped jungle. You don’t ask questions for fear of their answers; you trust her, but only because going back would mean going back alone. Unnerving, offensive, magnetic... You’ll refuse to remove the heavy veil she’s set over your eyes, lest you find that it’s become permanent.