Ottessa Moshfegh Livres

There's something eerily unsettling about Ottessa Moshfegh's stories, something almost dangerous while also being delightful - and often even weirdly hilarious. Her characters are all unsteady on their feet; all yearning for connection and betterment, in very different ways, but each of them seems destined to be tripped up by their own baser impulses. What makes these stories so moving is the emotional balance that Moshfegh achieves - the way she exposes the limitless range of self-deception that human beings can employ while, at the same time, infusing the grotesque and outrageous with tenderness and compassion. The flesh is weak; the timber is crooked; people are cruel to each other, and stupid, and hurtful, but beauty comes from strange sources, and the dark energy surging through these stories is oddly and powerfully invigorating. One of the most gifted and exciting young writers in America, she shows us uncomfortable things, and makes us look at them forensically - until we find, suddenly, that we are really looking at ourselves.

Welcome to Lapvona. In a village in a medieval fiefdom buffeted by natural disasters, a motherless shepherd boy finds himself at the centre of a power struggle that puts all manner of faith to a savage test . . . Discover the Sunday Times bestselling novel from the author of TikTok sensation My Year of Rest and Relaxation. 'One of the most provocative reads of the year' i NEWSPAPER 'Disturbingly funny' OBSERVER, BOOKS OF THE YEAR 'An addictive read . . . with a chequered cast of misfits, despots and unholy souls' THE FACE 'One of America's most exciting - and most provocative - young novelists' FINANCIAL TIMES 'Lapvona deserves all the hype it's received and more' i-D 'Brace yourselves' STYLIST

A lonely young woman working in a boys prison outside Bostonin the early 60s is pulled into a very s....

The debut novella from one of contemporary fiction's most exciting young voices, now in a new edition. Salem, Massachusetts, 1851: McGlue is in the hold, still too drunk to be sure of name or situation or orientation--he may have killed a man. That man may have been his best friend. Intolerable memory accompanies sobriety. A-sail on the high seas of literary tradition, Ottessa Moshfegh gives us a nasty heartless blackguard on a knife-sharp voyage through the fogs of recollection. They said I've done something wrong? . . . And they've just left me down here to starve. They'll see this inanition and be so damned they'll fall to my feet and pass up hot cross buns slathered in fresh butter and beg I forgive them. All of them . . . : the entire world one by one. Like a good priest I'll pat their heads and nod. I'll dunk my skull into a barrel of gin.

While on her daily walk with her dog in the woods near her home, Vesta comes across a chilling handwritten note. Her name was Magda. Nobody will ever know who killed her. It wasn't me. Here is her dead body. Shaky even on her best days, Vesta is also alone, and new to the area, having moved here after the death of her husband. Her brooding about the note grows quickly into a full-blown obsession- who was Magda and how did she meet her fate?

En Mi año de descanso y relajación, Ottessa Moshfegh hace de Manhattan el epicentro de una civilización, la del año 2000, dominada por la apatía. Como una oscura bella durmiente, la narradora de esta novela decide encerrarse durante un año en su piso de una de las zonas más exclusivas de Nueva York, asistida por una herencia ingente y por una gran cantidad de fármacos, para dedicarse a dormir y ver películas de Whoopi Goldberg y Harrison Ford. El inicio de un siglo supuestamente trepidante encuentra a nuestra protagonista durmiendo en el sofá con la tele encendida. Con mucho cinismo, series, películas comerciales y narcóticos, y a costa de cortar todo vínculo humano, cualquiera puede sobrellevar esta vida. Ahora bien, Èlo que queremos es sobrellevarla?