Book Review: My Year of Rest and Relaxation
In idle moments I return to an internal conversation in which I consider the impact of September 11 on American cinema. Those before, particularly those immediately before, rest on the assumption that the only problems left were in our own head. Movies like Momento, Being John Malkovich and the Matrix mark a time where the most fallible structure was not the deep state, rising dictatorships or global terrorism but our own psyche. It seems quaint now to look back on this cultural moment of post-modern malaise, a time when history had ended before being jump-started again the instant American Airlines Flight 11 collided into the North Tower of the World Trade Centre.
In her novel My Year of Rest and Relaxation author Ottessa Moshfegh locates this epoch and conjures it up in a masterful satire embedded deep within that flawed, naive and pathologically self-obsessed world. We follow her...
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