24 May 2019

Eileen, by Otessa Moshfegh

This book first came to my attention because David Sedaris recommended it. Then there was the fanfare over her following novel, The Year of Rest and Relaxation, which made me even more curious. But what finally got me to read it turned out to be Moshfegh's appearance on the New Yorker fiction podcast, where she reads an incredible short story by Sheila Heti and discusses it. Something about the way way she read it, the smart observations she had in the conversation afterwards, it gave me the final push I needed. Having finished the novel, I see why she picked that story -- the style is very similar to her own (I think she says as much on the show). Both are characterized by this unsettling, detached affect, and a fascination with the grotesque, especially of bodies.

Eileen is a dark, twisted novel about a lonely, spiteful, and fairly repulsive woman. The plot flirts with cliché -- the abusive father, the disturbing sexual fantasies, the fascination with a charismatic other woman -- but somehow feels fresh and surprising at every turn. The retrospective narrative structure curiously seems to serve primarily to undo any potential suspense or sense of thrilling danger. The prose is crisp, deadpan, astonishing.

And yet, while I admired the book, I never really got into it. I finished it two weeks ago and I barely remember what happened. Maybe because I was caught up in other things at the time, or maybe because the plot never quite hooked me. But I'm definitely curious to read more of her work.