Some people have decided to spend their quarantine productively: baking bread, learning to play a new instrument, or even adopting a new pet. Others, however, are both begrudgingly and enthusiastically embracing the beauty of laziness. Though it is easy to feel guilty for enjoying this newfound lethargy; Otessa Moshfegh’s novel, My Year of Rest and Relaxation, makes us feel a little less alone.
Moshfegh’s novel opens with a young and beautiful woman living in New York City. She lives in a luxurious apartment and has a seemingly endless amount of money due to the passing of her parents. Despite her idyllic life, the narrator, who remains unnamed, is deeply depressed. She decides to sleep for an entire year, describing it as a kind of “reset.” She takes sleeping medications constantly and only leaves her apartment to get food or visit her psychiatrist. Confined to her apartment, she often narrates things that have no choice but to resonate with people’s current feelings during quarantine. The narrator writes, “I felt nothing. I could think of feelings, emotions, but I couldn’t bring them up in me. I couldn’t even locate where my emotions came from. My brain? It made no sense”(137) as she falls asleep to Whoopi Goldberg films.
Like the narrator, many of us are looking for a reset on life. Though it seems impossible, the narrator ends up getting her fresh start. After a year of rest and relaxation (interspersed with moments of stress), the narrator steps outside and enjoys her surroundings. After finally being able to be free from the confines of her apartment, she writes, “there was majesty and grace in the pace of the swaying branches of the willows. There was kindness. Pain is not the only touchstone for growth, I said to myself”(288).
You can purchase Otessa Moshfegh’s novel here.