Scan barcode
A review by persephonora
My Year of Rest and Relaxation by Ottessa Moshfegh
2.0
I hated this book. At first I thought the concept was interesting and enjoyed some of the witticisms Moshfegh builds in the beginning. But as I kept reading, I realized how shallow this book actually is. The commentary on New York and its archetypes felt unoriginal – seriously, am I supposed to be impressed by the "modern art is stupid and weird" take? – and the main character/narrator was so insufferable that it was impossible to take any of her observations seriously.
I'm not really sure how I feel in general about the "unlikable women" trend in contemporary fiction, but other books in this genre manage to maintain perspective and realism. This book was has a totally unrealistic premise, which is fine, but then so many people interpret the unlike-ability of the lead character as some sort of social commentary – which I think gives this book too much credit, and also doesn't seem to jive with how separated from reality the premise feels. For example, if this book was supposed to provide commentary on therapy/drugs or something in that vein, any analysis Moshfegh injects is negated by the fact that Dr. Tuttle, the main character's therapist is so wholly unrealistic, and feels so far removed from reality that it's not obvious she represents anything or is supposed to be satirizing/hyperbolizing something in real life.
Further, Moshfegh has said in interviews that she doesn't think art needs to have lessons and I don't disagree. But if this book has no philosophical/moral implications, and the characters aren't relatable, and the observations are trite, and I don't feel like I learned anything, then why read it? I didn't even find it entertaining in the way that a trashy reality tv show is entertaining.
Reva was the only good character and it hurt so much to see her mistreated time and time again by the narrator and author – and once I was done with the book, I realized how pointless it was.
I also thought the 9/11 ending was unnecessary and cheap. What were we supposed to take away? That some good came out of 9/11 because it snapped an insufferable, privileged girl out of her self-imposed depressive modern art experiment?
And maybe I'm reading too much into it – but if we're supposed to herald Moshfegh as a literary genius, then I think it's fair game to read into everything – but I thought the decision to make the only Asian character be a Chinese man who abuses dogs, a little bit questionable. The protagonist also has this weird Whoopie Goldberg obsession which felt gratuitous, and was maybe only there to make her seem quirky? Not sure.
I'm not really sure how I feel in general about the "unlikable women" trend in contemporary fiction, but other books in this genre manage to maintain perspective and realism. This book was has a totally unrealistic premise, which is fine, but then so many people interpret the unlike-ability of the lead character as some sort of social commentary – which I think gives this book too much credit, and also doesn't seem to jive with how separated from reality the premise feels. For example, if this book was supposed to provide commentary on therapy/drugs or something in that vein, any analysis Moshfegh injects is negated by the fact that Dr. Tuttle, the main character's therapist is so wholly unrealistic, and feels so far removed from reality that it's not obvious she represents anything or is supposed to be satirizing/hyperbolizing something in real life.
Further, Moshfegh has said in interviews that she doesn't think art needs to have lessons and I don't disagree. But if this book has no philosophical/moral implications, and the characters aren't relatable, and the observations are trite, and I don't feel like I learned anything, then why read it? I didn't even find it entertaining in the way that a trashy reality tv show is entertaining.
Reva was the only good character and it hurt so much to see her mistreated time and time again by the narrator and author – and once I was done with the book, I realized how pointless it was.
I also thought the 9/11 ending was unnecessary and cheap. What were we supposed to take away? That some good came out of 9/11 because it snapped an insufferable, privileged girl out of her self-imposed depressive modern art experiment?
And maybe I'm reading too much into it – but if we're supposed to herald Moshfegh as a literary genius, then I think it's fair game to read into everything – but I thought the decision to make the only Asian character be a Chinese man who abuses dogs, a little bit questionable. The protagonist also has this weird Whoopie Goldberg obsession which felt gratuitous, and was maybe only there to make her seem quirky? Not sure.