My Year of Rest and Relaxation

Life was fragile and fleeting and one had to be cautious, sure, but I would risk death if it meant I could sleep all day and become a whole new person.

This had been recommended to me by my friend Libby for the 12 in 12 Challenge, but it had been on my TBR since 2018 and I was looking forward to reading it. Friends of mine had very much enjoyed it and I thought the concept was interesting: the narrator decides that she wants to sleep for an entire year. So she does. Or she tries, at least. Using a cocktail of downers, she sleeps as much as possible.

I enjoyed the writing in this at a technical level, but I was just never as invested as I wanted to be. It felt like a bit of a slog, and I found myself not wanting to pick it back up except to finish it so I could move on to something else. Perhaps part of this is Moshfegh's extremely real portrayal of depression. Real depression can be real hard to read, as it digs into your brain and pulls you down with it.

The narrator is incredibly unlikeable, something that is never a dealbreaker for me in a book since I love reading about messy women. Basically I'm that meme that's like “I support women's rights. But I also support women's wrongs.” And this woman has a lot of wrongs. Unfortunately I just didn't find them interesting in the way I normally do. I was bored by her poor relationships and her cold facade.

The end, though, that end was a punch in the gut. It pulled things together for me in a way I wasn't quite expecting. Although I don't fully understand what Moshfegh was doing here, I do appreciate the novel she gave us and I am intrigued enough to give her other works a try.

click here for content warnings.

Though I am pretty sure no one can go on a drug cocktail binge like this and make it out with any semblance of normal base brain function, it serves the purpose of the book pretty well and creates some subtext I liked. I have mixed feelings about it though, it feels like an unrealistic fantasy wrapped in real life, both in ways that make a nice sort of surreal picture and also in ways that make me question the story's solidity.

I found myself thinking about this book weeks after reading it for it to actually sit with me. 

I kind of figured out why I am less sympathetic about this character than anyone in her situation and I realize maybe that was the point. Yes, she is unlikeable. But I found a lot of things she says I kind of agree with but would probably not say out loud myself. Because people would think I'm an asshole.

Right off the bat, I would have already guessed the narrator has depression. It seems obvious. But the way the book is written, you find very little reason to sympathize with her because she has all this privilege. She's a beautiful, wealthy white woman. It would seem like there is very little for her to be depressed about. Sure, her parents died but she admits herself that she never really had a loving relationship with them. She quit her job, but she admits she has been long disillusioned with the industry she works in. It seems to me that even the narrator herself is unable to admit to herself that she is miserable and she's incredibly self aware of her own privilege and perhaps that's why she couldn't admit to herself her own problems. She does a lot of this deflection throughout the book. And so her year of rest and relaxation was another way for her to divert herself from her problems. Because she has no way of facing them if she doesn't acknowledge them.

Being unable to admit to yourself or anyone that you are going through a depression is hard enough without people reminding you of what you should be grateful for. And especially with the time period this was set on, it must have been so isolating to feel like you're the only miser in the room. 

The ending was less about her character development or her year of rest and relaxation actually working for her. It was more like she woke up to a new world where it wouldn't be so out of place to feel morose or depressed a little. The bubble has popped for much of the people around her.

Sometimes, it takes a lot of effort for us to admit how miserable we actually feel.

Ive gone and read so many reviews on this book and all i can tell is people hate it for the exact same reasons why people love it. I know thats the case for a lot of books but this book specifically its crazy.

Mania that worms its way into the crevices of your cerebrum.

very depressing until the last 5 or so pages. the optimist in me that expected a happy ending was quite disappointed, but it's still an interesting concept and really well written. worth a read if you're in the mood for something darker.

Guess I'm going to have to officially change my stance that I don't like books with unlikeable characters!

5 stars oddly I thought this was the perfect book to match my dog? And I have no idea why.

I started out really enjoying the book, finding it funny and absurd, but then it just continued in that same way without ever progressing. I suppose part of the point is that nothing really happens, but nothing really happens. Even in the end, when we're supposed to find some resolution and the year comes to an end, I don't feel like anything was solved.

The main character has a year of rest and relaxation - by bingeing on pills that let her sleep for days at a time, only waking up to eat and watch TV.

Looking at the reviews, it seems like this book is one you either love or hate, depending on whether you have sympathy for the main character or not. She's kind of a terrible person but at the same time I enjoyed her as a character. I'm not about to binge on pills but I can sort of relate - sometimes I just want to play videos games alone all day and not have to think about doing anything else (definitely not for an entire year though!).

1,5 stars.

Although this book sometimes does a good job at portraying the ugly sides of mental illness and has a great concept, the plot and characters were terrible. Found myself dreading to read this and could not in the slightest understand why most of the reviews printed on the book itself describe it with„funny“ „makes you laugh out loud“ or call Moshfegh a „merciless comedian“. I could not find a single funny line in the book. And if issueing mean comments about people with eating disorders is „funny“ I fail to see the humor in that. Terrible read.

Unpleasant but fascinating and witty in its own way. I didn't particularly enjoy it, but I'm glad I read it. Hard to summarize my feelings about this.

I bought this novel two years ago and it has lived on my nightstand. It's as if I just knew there would be a perfect time to read it and BAM! That time was now. What better in a shelter-in-place time of life to read about an unnamed character who decided to knock herself out with drugs for a year in order to reset her life? Aren't we all, kind of, doing that ourselves?
I think Moshfegh may, in fact, be my most favorite author (and that's saying a lot as I have many favorite authors). She consistently writes stories that just amaze me. I never know where she is going with something (and I don't want to know ahead of time-I'm 100 percent along for the ride).
Off to go pre-order her new novel!

Last year I learned about Auden's Five Verdicts when you are evaluating a book. When I finished this for book club, I immediately thought that one of those verdicts would apply here: I can see that this is good, but I don't like it. This book challenged me. It is more than just a story, a story that is so improbable that I was forced to look for the message in it. (worth noting that I love book club for exactly this reason - I read and try to finish books I would otherwise not pick up or possibly finish). This author is clearly a gifted writer. This book is very very well written. I just had a hard time reading it. I wonder if it is because we are in such an uncertain and dark time with Coronavirus quarantines and concerns and over 60,000 dead Americans in a short time that this was hard to read. I've found myself searching for fluffy, easy, hopeful books over the past month. Having said that, I feel like this book is so good at describing a person who just wants to pull the covers over their head and come out when things are better. If the author is trying to paint a picture of a time before social media and smartphones had taken over our society, of a person so privileged they forget the meaning and value in things and other people, then I think she succeeded. A harsh light is shone on the characters and displays the real people they are, “worts and all” as the saying goes. There are certainly no filters and no public faces elaborated on here. I will likely read more from this author, but probably not until the reality around me looks a bit brighter.

I initially really loved this and had given it a 5 star review. Then I read a comment about how this books screams privilege, decided to give it a 4 star. Then realized that's the point. There's an obvious “privilege” here and as a black girl who sees privilege and injustice in everything without wanting to, it was so obvious but didn't effect the way I read this. Regardless, this is good work.

I will never quite agree with people who say this isn't interesting though. When the plot wasn't, the language and thought process of the main character was. There was never a seemingly “dull” moment.

I can see why people would like this book, but it is not for me. The character was so selfish and flawed and I was bored throughout it. It is unique though, and it is a great depiction of severe depression and withdrawing from the world. I was most interested in her family life. She didn't seem to have any personality, but I guess that can be attributed to the fact she doesn't want to give any shits.

9/10
A true-blue masterpiece. Engrossing, to the point that I felt a kinship with the unnamed protagonist, and nihilistic to the fact that I thought that Nietzsche developed his theory of anti-nihilism precisely because he anticipated such a piece of media being created.
The TL;DR version is that a woman convinces herself that she needs a year off - away from work, all responsibilities, and relationships. To that extent, she quits her job, stops talking to the little people she is already talking to, and stops focusing at all on anything other than the bare minimum to get by. Between her progressively deranged ramblings, her self-described best friend (who she simultaneously loves and hates) pops in to supply her with news from the outside world (and her own).
If that sounds like a dreary ride, I can assure you it's not. The protagonist's biting inner monologue is every bit as uncomfortable as it is darkly funny; her recollections of her childhood are part victimization and part acceptance to the point of hilarity, and every once in a while, the protagonist also offers some solemn ponderings on the state of the world which stops you in your tracks. My only qualm with the novel lies in the last quarter, which is pretty predictable but is still entirely absorbing.
Overall, My Year of Rest and Relaxation is a fantastic collection of musings on the vagaries of consumerism and late-stage capitalism, with some plot sprinkled on as garnishing.

Very interesting depiction of a protagonist, whom the world would deem as having everything - money, beauty, hip job, condo on the east side. Yet, internally, her world is falling apart, so much so, that she wants to take a year off to sleep. This novel explores how far one would go to get their life back on track or a total reset - with some exceptions.

P.S. The therapist leaves so much to be desired. That's all I will say as not to spoil it

This reminded me of You Too Can Have A Body Like Mine by Alexandria Kleeman, less overall weird tho ( I mean still weird, but uh... just her, not the whole world) Maybe it's the something about the female protagonists and the fractured relationship with reality? I have a hard time resisting the automatic ‘jesus, trust fund kid much?' Just, profoundly unlikable, and yet also - we've all had days we just want to sleep forever instead of dealing with life? Esp with trauma, but still - hard to sympathize with poor little rich crazy

just downed this in one sitting and the effect was not unlike taking sleeping pills.

i'll be thinking about it for awhile, probably.

the only comparison that comes to mind is Trainspotting. i can't think of anything else that is this darkly humorous while at the same time treating its characters with so much tenderness.

also, as someone who has both been involved with dudes very like Trevor and been in depressive fugues during NYC winters: this shit felt real

Happened to be watching Girls at the same time when reading this. Felt like the narrative thread could have intertwined with that in the series. Surreal...

I'm stuck in a weird kind of limbo with this book. I liked it a lot but I have no idea why. I hated every character in it. I seethed at their conduct. I despised the depiction of the art world. At one point I had to close the book to shout at my ceiling. But other than that I didn't want to put it down, and it's been on my mind often since I finished it.

This is an excruciatingly modern book, reflecting the age of the privileged and entitled back to us in painful clarity, and Ottessa Moshfegh captures it all with such ease.

4.5 reluctantly glowing stars.

A sad declaration. I am confused as to what it means (I'd love to discuss it with my brother), but I enjoyed reading it. Went through the thing quickly. Easy to read, funny and charming. I'm reminded of a Tobias Fünke quote, but that's a spoiler.

Truly pushing the bounds of unlikeable characters. The last page is stunning.

No doubt this book is a tough sell. Well what's it about? It's about a young woman, living in NYC in 2000, and she's depressed, so she takes a lot of drugs and sleeps a lot. Then what happens? She takes more drugs and sleeps even more. Then? Well, she takes more drugs, but has trouble sleeping. Okay, let's jump past all the drugs and sleeping, what happens after all that? She wakes up, I guess. That's it? Well, there's also this whole obsession with Whoopi Goldberg. That's pretty interesting.

So my love of Whoopi began with Star Trek: The Next Generation. For those who do not know, she played Guinan, the ship's bartender.

Despite her secondary role, Guinan was my favorite character from that series. So already I was impressed with My Year of Rest and Relaxation for the unnamed narrator's fascination with Goldberg. But when I found out her obsession began with Guinan—oh, Ottessa, you have captured my heart. I digress...

And I still haven't sold you on this book, have I?

Okay, Moshfegh has a way of making a simple story semi-interesting. No, My Year... is certainly not riveting, but the beauty of the language and the inner workings of the narrator's mind are engaging. Perhaps this novel reached a point about two-thirds of the way through when it began to feel like the idea had run its course, but that final third wasn't a drag by any means. Part of why this book succeeds is, I think, because Moshfegh is in no way heavy-handed with the connections she makes to an apathetic people, a dying art scene, and a wake-up call. The few characters who revolve around our narrator's world are unlikable and played for humor, which worked, but didn't allow me to grow close to any of them. This leaves only the narrator who is over-privileged and despicable in her own ways, but at least she understands a love of Guinan. (Sometimes all you need is Whoopi.)

It's not easy to convince anyone to read a book about a woman who sleeps. And that's okay, because many readers probably won't love My Year of Rest and Relaxation. At times, it's slow, dry, and depressing. I think with all things Moshfegh writes, it either subtly grows on you, or it doesn't.