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byronic_reader 's review for:
My Year of Rest and Relaxation
by Ottessa Moshfegh
At the first look, My Year of Rest and Relaxation may sound shallow. I mean this is a story about a woman who self medicate herself into a coma with the help of a quack doctor. She is beautiful, rich, and privileged. She has everything she needs in her life and this coma stint is just a pure act of privilege squandering, isn't it? How many of us can take a year-long hiatus from our life without any consequences? I had all these thoughts running when I first read the blurb. And I had to read it to find whether it is as shallow as the blurb.
Let me tell you one thing. This book is anything but shallow. Now we may have a protagonist (MC hereafter) who seem to have her life in order. But her life is chaos. She lost both her parents within a short period. Parents who didn't want her in the first place and made it known for her too. They are detached from our MC to the point that she couldn't feel any emotions toward them. At one point she reads a letter from her dead mother just to feel how rejected it made her feel. We all have some dysfunctionality in our lives. But this is like a slap to the face.
Our MC in general has an abnormal and unhealthy relationship with almost everyone in her life. Her therapist is a quack who doesn't know to diagnose a patient. Her on and off lover Trevor is there because he is better than Hoodie wearing hippies. And she calls Reva her best friend because she is pathetic and Reva's obsession will pull her out of whatever black hole MC burrowed into. Reading all this you don't particularly like our MC and may start to think that she is the problem. You know what? She knows that she is the problem and she is okay with it. She doesn't want you to like her or put her on a pedestal. And that's something refreshing to read.
When you take a closer look and read between the lines, this is not just a story about the year-long hibernation of a woman. It is also about how disgusting people can be when they are at their worst. That friend who says that you're their best friend will hold a whole pit of jealousy and show it at the worst time possible.
In the end, our obsession with vanity, materialism and consumerism doesn't matter unless we are not ready to work on ourselves.
.
.
I enjoyed reading this book with all its scoffing commentary and spent most of the time in a trance. Though this is not an all-time favourite of mine, I will definitely not miss a book by Moshfegh.
Let me tell you one thing. This book is anything but shallow. Now we may have a protagonist (MC hereafter) who seem to have her life in order. But her life is chaos. She lost both her parents within a short period. Parents who didn't want her in the first place and made it known for her too. They are detached from our MC to the point that she couldn't feel any emotions toward them. At one point she reads a letter from her dead mother just to feel how rejected it made her feel. We all have some dysfunctionality in our lives. But this is like a slap to the face.
Our MC in general has an abnormal and unhealthy relationship with almost everyone in her life. Her therapist is a quack who doesn't know to diagnose a patient. Her on and off lover Trevor is there because he is better than Hoodie wearing hippies. And she calls Reva her best friend because she is pathetic and Reva's obsession will pull her out of whatever black hole MC burrowed into. Reading all this you don't particularly like our MC and may start to think that she is the problem. You know what? She knows that she is the problem and she is okay with it. She doesn't want you to like her or put her on a pedestal. And that's something refreshing to read.
When you take a closer look and read between the lines, this is not just a story about the year-long hibernation of a woman. It is also about how disgusting people can be when they are at their worst. That friend who says that you're their best friend will hold a whole pit of jealousy and show it at the worst time possible.
In the end, our obsession with vanity, materialism and consumerism doesn't matter unless we are not ready to work on ourselves.
.
.
I enjoyed reading this book with all its scoffing commentary and spent most of the time in a trance. Though this is not an all-time favourite of mine, I will definitely not miss a book by Moshfegh.