This novel was painfully on the nose for me right now. Vesta Gul has relocated from the Midwest after the death of her tyrannical academic husband Walter; she’s now the owner of a former Girl Scout camp on a lake in Maine. She’s living alone with her dog Charlie, slowly establishing new patterns and habits. Her rebuilding is upended by a note she discovers on a walk in the woods, a note that seems to hint at a murder. Vesta distracts herself from her own grief and self-creation by creating a cast of characters around “Magda,” her imagined victim, as well as a life for Magda. Moshfegh cleverly uses this device to explore how we understand reality as we age, how the world can sap our confidence, but also what resilience we can draw upon to keep going. Poor Vesta.