![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() In this swaggeringly mordant novel, set in New York during the 18 months leading up to the 9/11 attacks, the narrator just wants to be unconscious as often as possible, preferably under the influence of enough heavy-duty pharmaceuticals to “arrest my imagination and put me into a deep, boring, inert sleep.” Recently orphaned, she has precisely two personal relationships: with Reva, her alleged best friend, and with Trevor, an older guy in finance-theirs is a degrading on-and-off affair that persists only because Trevor will “periodically deplete his self-esteem in relationships with older women, i.e., women his own age, then return to me to reboot. You’d have to loan her a few fucks to zero out her account. The unnamed narrator of Moshfegh’s new novel, My Year of Rest and Relaxation, has negative fucks to give. Eileen, a young secretary at a juvenile prison in early 1960s Massachusetts, holds nearly everyone in contempt, a sentiment occasionally modified by her prurient interest in their sex lives. The narrator of Ottessa Moshfegh’s first novel, 2015’s Eileen, had zero fucks to give. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |