I really wanted to dislike this book but about 3/4s of the way, my opinion started to change. First things first, I cannot vibe with how Moshfegh ends her stories. Even with My Year of…, I was so underwhelmed with the conclusion and I’m starting to notice a pat with this book. I went in knowing absolutely nothing and for the first half of the story I was actually dreading every page turn, but mostly because I was so anxious of where this story was going. I really enjoyed the exploration of religion and wealth and self-enlightenment; even though at times when it felt a little lost. A big problem I had with this story was that it felt like Moshfegh had a great baseline and a whole lot of actions that she wanted characters to do in a book and then she kind of just wrote some plot around those sets of actions. A little like grasping at whatever plot formed from what seems to be a like a conversation held with friends on a late night; “imagine this fantasy type of medieval town …” I think that really lends to the fact that I felt so disappointment with that ending. This book that is not afraid to explore whatever grotesque topic feels almost timid with that ending. Maybe I just wanted something completely out of left field, but I feel like I saw it coming a mile away. 

 

All this to say though, that I actually really did end up enjoying this book at the end. It felt like I was able to see through it a new lenes and I did ultimately enjoy the different explorations of one village. There was no real time allowed to start to feel comfortable (if one even can) reading from on perspective before it quickly shifts again. I must admit that I do actually enjoy reading all the things that seem to cross Moshfegh’s mind. This book leaves a gross, sticky feeling after reading and if that’s not the point, what was? The almost fairy tale feeling of this book I think really adds to the uneasiness of every action taken. And I must say, there’s almost a timeless feeling to it.

 

Will I read her next book? Yeah without a doubt.