Новинки Оттессы Мошфег

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 . . .

'When I'd slept enough, I'd be okay. I'd be renewed, reborn.'
This is the story of a woman with no name. Young, thin, pretty, a recent Columbia graduate, she lives in an apartment on the Upper East Side of Manhattan paid for, like everything else, by her inheritance. Yet she longs to lose herself completely.
It's the year 2000 in a city aglitter with wealth and possibility; what could be so terribly wrong? My Year of Rest and Relaxation is a savagely funny novel of a woman looking out from the abyss.
Meet ten of literature's most iconic heroines, jacketed in bold portraits by female photographers from around the world.

An electrifying, prizewinning short story collection from the Booker-shortlisted author of Eileen and My Year of Rest and Relaxation.
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.
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.

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?
From the Booker-shortlisted author of Eileen comes this razor-sharp, chilling and darkly hilarious novel about the stories we tell ourselves and how we strive to obscure the truth.

Целый год сна.

Целый год кошмаров, трипов и непрерывного релакса.

Ее, молодую, красивую выпускницу престижного университета с работой «не бей лежачего», все достало. Она должна быть счастлива, но у нее не получается быть счастливой. Ей срочно нужен как минимум год отдыха. У нее есть доступ ко всем существующим таблеткам, прописанным странноватым доктором, и деньгам, полученным по наследству от покойных родителей. Ей нужно вылечить голову и сердце. И решить – куда идти дальше.

«Мой год отдыха и релакса» – это «Обломов» нового поколения, с антидепрессантами, психоаналитиками и токсичными отношениями.

Little Marek, the abused and delusional son of the village shepherd, never knew his mother; his father told him she died in childbirth. One of life’s few consolations for Marek is his enduring bond with the blind village midwife, Ina, who suckled him when he was a baby, as she did so many of the village’s children. Ina’s gifts extend beyond childcare: she possesses a unique ability to communicate with the natural world. Her gift often brings her the transmission of sacred knowledge on levels far beyond those available to other villagers, however religious they might be. For some people, Ina’s home in the woods outside of the village is a place to fear and to avoid, a godless place.

Among their number is Father Barnabas, the town priest and lackey for the depraved lord and governor, Villiam, whose hilltop manor contains a secret embarrassment of riches. The people’s desperate need to believe that there are powers that be who have their best interests at heart is put to a cruel test by Villiam and the priest, especially in this year of record drought and famine. But when fate brings Marek into violent proximity to the lord’s family, new and occult forces upset the old order. By year’s end, the veil between blindness and sight, life and death, the natural world and the spirit world, will prove to be very thin indeed.

A novel of haunting metaphysical suspense about an elderly widow whose life is upturned when she finds a cryptic note on a walk in the woods that ultimately makes her question everything about her new home. While on her normal daily walk with her dog in the forest woods, our protagonist comes across a note, handwritten and carefully pinned to the ground with a frame of stones. "Her name was Magda. Nobody will ever know who killed her. It wasn't me. Here is her dead body". Our narrator is deeply shaken; she has no idea what to make of this. She is new to area, having moved her from her longtime home after the death of her husband, and she…

A novel of haunting metaphysical suspense about an elderly widow whose life is upturned when she finds a cryptic note on a walk in the woods that ultimately makes her question everything about her new home.

While on her normal daily walk with her dog in the forest woods, our protagonist comes across a note, handwritten and carefully pinned to the ground with a frame of stones. "Her name was Magda. Nobody will ever know who killed her. It wasn't me. Here is her dead body". Our narrator is deeply shaken; she has no idea what to make of this. She is new to area, having moved her from her longtime home after the death of her husband, and she knows very few people. And she's a little shaky even on best days. Her brooding about this note quickly grows into a full-blown obsession, and she begins to devote herself to exploring the possibilities of her conjectures about who this woman was and how she met her fate. Her suppositions begin to find echoes in the real world, and with mounting excitement and dread, the fog of mystery starts to form into a concrete and menacing shape. But as we follow her in her investigation, strange dissonances start to accrue, and our faith in her grip on reality weakens, until finally, just as she seems be facing some of the darkness in her own past with her late husband, we are forced to face the prospect that there is either a more innocent explanation for all this or a much more sinister one - one that strikes closer to home.

A triumphant blend of horror, suspense, and pitch-black comedy, 'Death in Her Hands' asks us to consider how the stories we tell ourselves both guide us closer to the truth and keep us at bay from it. Once again, we are in the hands of a narrator whose unreliability is well earned, only this time the stakes have never been higher.

It’s the year 2000 in a city aglitter with wealth and possibility; what could be so terribly wrong?

Our narrator has many of the advantages of life: Young, thin, pretty, a recent Columbia graduate, she lives in an apartment on the Upper East Side of Manhattan paid for, like everything else, by her inheritance. But there is a vacuum at the heart of things, and it isn’t just the loss of her parents in college, or the way her Wall Street boyfriend treats her, or her sadomasochistic relationship with her alleged best friend.

Blackly funny, both merciless and compassionate – dangling its legs over the ledge of 9/11 – My Year of Rest and Relaxation is a showcase for the gifts of one of America’s major young writers.

From one of our boldest, most celebrated new literary voices, a novel about a young woman's efforts to duck the ills of the world by embarking on an extended hibernation with the help of one of the worst psychiatrists in the annals of literature and the battery of medicines she prescribes.

Our narrator should be happy, shouldn't she? She's young, thin, pretty, a recent Columbia graduate, works an easy job at a hip art gallery, lives in an apartment on the Upper East Side of Manhattan paid for, like the rest of her needs, by her inheritance. But there is a dark and vacuous hole in her heart, and it isn't just the loss of her parents, or the way her Wall Street boyfriend treats her, or her sadomasochistic relationship with her best friend, Reva. It's the year 2000 in a city aglitter with wealth and possibility; what could be so terribly wrong?

My Year of Rest and Relaxation is a powerful answer to that question. Through the story of a year spent under the influence of a truly mad combination of drugs designed to heal our heroine from her alienation from this world, Moshfegh shows us how reasonable, even necessary, alienation can be. Both tender and blackly funny, merciless and compassionate, it is a showcase for the gifts of one of our major writers working at the height of her powers.

Целый год сна. Целый год кошмаров, трипов и непрерывного релакса. Ее, молодую, красивую выпускницу престижного университета с работой "не бей лежачего", все достало. Она должна быть счастлива, но у нее не получается быть счастливой. Ей срочно нужен как минимум год отдыха. У нее есть доступ ко всем существующим таблеткам, прописанным странноватым доктором, и деньгам, полученным по наследству от покойных родителей. Ей нужно вылечить голову и сердце. И решить — куда идти дальше. "Мой год отдыха и релакса" — это "Обломов" нового поколения, с антидепрессантами, психоаналитиками и токсичными отношениями.

Можливість змінити життя трапляється не кожного дня. Будь-які думка, вчинок і дія людини можуть перетворити мрію в реальність, якщо дійсно цього хочеш. Отесса Мошфег розповідає про скромну дівчину, яка живе химерними фантазіями про втечу від реальності, в житті якої є тільки робота у в’язниці для хлопчиків і батько-пияка та яка марнує час, крадучи дрібнички в магазинах, слідкуючи за охоронцем Ренді та вирішуючи татові проблеми, що стають дедалі серйознішими… Мрії Ейлін могли залишитися мріями, якби в її житті не з’явилася Ребекка Сент-Джон. Чи вдасться головній героїні врятуватися від реальності сірих буднів? На що вона готова заради такої бажаної свободи?

From one of our boldest, most celebrated new literary voices, a novel about a young woman's efforts to duck the ills of the world by embarking on an extended hibernation with the help of one of the worst psychiatrists in the annals of literature and the battery of medicines she prescribes. Our narrator should be happy, shouldn't she? She's young, thin, pretty, a recent Columbia graduate, works an easy job at a hip art gallery, lives in an apartment on the Upper East Side of Manhattan paid for, like the rest of her needs, by her inheritance. But there is a dark and vacuous hole in her heart, and it isn't just the loss of her parents, or…

They said I've done something wrong?... And they've just left me down here to starve. Haven't had a drop in days more so... Salem, Massachusetts, 1851: McGlue is in the hold, still too drunk to be sure of his name or situation or orientation - he may have killed a man. That man may have been his best friend. Now, McGlue wants one thing and one thing only: a drink. Because for McGlue, insufferable, terrifying memories accompany sobriety. A-sail on the high seas of literary tradition, Ottessa Moshfegh gives us an unforgettable blackguard on a knife-sharp voyage through the fogs of recollection.

The debut short story collection by the author of Eileen, shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize 2016. 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. Moshfegh has been compared to Flannery O'Connor, Jim Thompson, Shirley Jackson and Patricia Highsmith but her voice and her mastery of language and tone are unique. 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.

Ottessa Moshfegh's debut novel "Eileen" was one of the literary events of 2015. Garlanded with critical acclaim, it was named a book of the year by "The Washington Post" and the "San Francisco Chronicle", nominated for a National Book Critics Circle Award, short-listed for the Man Booker Prize, and won the PEN/Hemingway Award for debut fiction. But as many critics noted, Moshfegh is particularly held in awe for her short stories. "Homesick for Another World" is the rare case where an author's short story collection is if anything more anticipated than her novel.

And for good reason. There's something eerily unsettling about Ottessa Moshfegh's stories, something almost dangerous, while also being delightful, and even laugh-out-loud funny. Her characters are all unsteady on their feet in one way or another; they all yearn for connection and betterment, though each in very different ways, but they are often tripped up by their own baser impulses and existential insecurities. "Homesick for Another World" is a master class in the varieties of self-deception across the gamut of individuals representing the human condition. But part of the unique quality of her voice, the echt Moshfeghian experience, is the way the grotesque and the outrageous are infused with tenderness and compassion. Moshfegh is our Flannery O'Connor, and "Homesick for Another World" is her "Everything That Rises Must Converge or A Good Man is Hard to Find". 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 powerfully invigorating. We're in the hands of an author with a big mind, a big heart, blazing chops, and a political acuity that is needle-sharp. The needle hits the vein before we even feel the prick.

Эйлин Данлоп всегда считала себя несчастной и обиженной жизнью. Ее мать умерла после тяжелой болезни; отец, отставной полицейский в небольшом городке, стал алкоголиком, а старшая сестра бросила семью. Сама Эйлин, работая в тюрьме для подростков, в свободное время присматривала за своим полубезумным отцом. Часто она мечтала о том, как бросит все, уедет в Нью-Йорк и начнет новую жизнь. Однако мечты эти так и оставались пустыми фантазиями закомплексованной девушки. Но однажды в Рождество произошло то, что заставило Эйлин надеть мамино пальто, достать все свои сбережения, прихватить отцовский револьвер, запрыгнуть в старый семейный автомобиль -…

SHORTLISTED FOR THE MAN BOOKER PRIZE 2016

SHORTLISTED FOR THE GORDON BURN PRIZE 2016

SHORTLISTED FOR THE CWA NEW BLOOD DAGGER AWARD 2016

The Christmas season offers little cheer for Eileen Dunlop. Trapped between caring for her alcoholic father and her job as a secretary at the boys’ prison, she tempers her dreary days with dreams of escaping to the big city. In the meantime, her nights and weekends are filled with shoplifting and cleaning up her increasingly deranged father’s messes.

When the beautiful, charismatic Rebecca Saint John arrives on the scene as the new counsellor at the prison, Eileen is enchanted, unable to resist what appears to be a miraculously budding friendship. But soon, Eileen’s affection for Rebecca will pull her into a crime that far surpasses even her own wild imagination.

A lonely young woman working in a boys’ prison outside Boston in the early 60s is pulled into a very strange crime, in a mordant, harrowing story of obsession and suspense, by one of the brightest new voices in fiction "So here we are. My name was Eileen Dunlop. Now you know me. I was twenty-four years old then, and had a job that paid fifty-seven dollars a week as a kind of secretary at a private juvenile correctional facility for teenage boys. I think of it now as what it really was for all intents and purposes—a prison for boys. I will call it Moorehead. Delvin Moorehead was a terrible landlord I had years later, and so to use his…

La narradora d'aquesta novel·la decideix tancar-se al seu pis de Manhattan durant un any. Els seus pares han mort, l'han acomiadat de la galeria d'art on treballava, les seves relacions són efímeres. Com una insòlita i ombrívola Bella Dorment, vol evitar el contacte humà, passar la major part del temps dormint o veient pel·lícules de Whoopi Goldberg i Harrison Ford, i tornar-se «immune als records dolorosos». Haurà de superar uns pocs obstacles: satisfer les necessitats bàsiques, les visites reiterades de la seva amiga Reva i les consultes amb la doctora Tuttle, una estranya, histriònica i poc fiable psiquiatra que la proveirà de tota mena de fàrmacs per desconnectar.