OverDrive désire utiliser des fichiers témoins pour stocker des informations sur votre ordinateur afin d'améliorer votre expérience sur notre site Web. Un des fichiers témoins que nous utilisons est très important pour certains aspects du fonctionnement du site, et il a déjà été stocké. Vous pouvez supprimer ou bloquer tous les fichiers témoins de ce site, mais ceci pourrait affecter certaines caractéristiques ou services du site. Afin d'en apprendre plus sur les fichiers témoins que nous utilisons et comment les supprimer, cliquez ici pour lire notre politique de confidentialité.
Named a Best Book of the Year by The Washington Post, Time, NPR, Vice, Bustle, The New York Times, The Guardian, Kirkus Reviews, Entertainment Weekly, The AV Club, & Audible A New York Times Bestseller • New York Times Readers Pick: 100 Best Books of the 21st Century “One of the most compelling protagonists modern fiction has offered in years: a loopy, quietly furious pillhead whose Ambien ramblings and Xanaxed b*tcheries somehow wend their way through sad and funny and strange toward something genuinely profound.” — Entertainment Weekly “Darkly hilarious . . . [Moshfegh’s] the kind of provocateur who makes you laugh out loud while drawing blood.” —Vogue 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.
Named a Best Book of the Year by The Washington Post, Time, NPR, Vice, Bustle, The New York Times, The Guardian, Kirkus Reviews, Entertainment Weekly, The AV Club, & Audible A New York Times Bestseller • New York Times Readers Pick: 100 Best Books of the 21st Century “One of the most compelling protagonists modern fiction has offered in years: a loopy, quietly furious pillhead whose Ambien ramblings and Xanaxed b*tcheries somehow wend their way through sad and funny and strange toward something genuinely profound.” — Entertainment Weekly “Darkly hilarious . . . [Moshfegh’s] the kind of provocateur who makes you laugh out loud while drawing blood.” —Vogue 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.
En raison de restrictions imposées par l'éditeur, la bibliothèque n'est pas en mesure d'acheter des exemplaires supplémentaires de ce titre et nous vous présentons toutes nos excuses si la liste d'attente est longue. N'oubliez pas de regarder s'il existe d'autres exemplaires, car d'autres éditions sont peut-être disponibles.
En raison de restrictions imposées par l'éditeur, la bibliothèque n'est pas en mesure d'acheter des exemplaires supplémentaires de ce titre et nous vous présentons toutes nos excuses si la liste d'attente est longue. N'oubliez pas de regarder s'il existe d'autres exemplaires, car d'autres éditions sont peut-être disponibles.
Extraits-
From the cover
One
whenever i woke up, night or day, I'd shuffle through the bright marble foyer of my building and go up the block and around the corner where there was a bodega that never closed. I'd get two large coffees with cream and six sugars each, chug the first one in the elevator on the way back up to my apartment, then sip the second one slowly while I watched movies and ate animal crackers and took trazodone and Ambien and Nembutal until I fell asleep again. I lost track of time in this way. Days passed. Weeks. A few months went by. When I thought of it, I ordered delivery from the Thai restaurant across the street, or a tuna salad platter from the diner on First Avenue. I'd wake up to find voice messages on my cell phone from salons or spas confirming appointments I'd booked in my sleep. I always called back to cancel, which I hated doing because I hated talking to people.
Early on in this phase, I had my dirty laundry picked up and clean laundry delivered once a week. It was a comfort to me to hear the torn plastic bags rustle in the draft from the living room windows. I liked catching whiffs of the fresh laundry smell while I dozed off on the sofa. But after a while, it was too much trouble to gather up all the dirty clothes and stuff them in the laundry bag. And the sound of my own washer and dryer interfered with my sleep. So I just threw away my dirty underpants. All the old pairs reminded me of Trevor, anyway. For a while, tacky lingerie from Victoria's Secret kept showing up in the mail-frilly fuchsia and lime green thongs and teddies and baby-doll nightgowns, each sealed in a clear plastic Baggie. I stuffed the little Baggies into the closet and went commando. An occasional package from Barneys or Saks provided me with men's pajamas and other things I couldn't remember ordering-cashmere socks, graphic T-shirts, designer jeans.
I took a shower once a week at most. I stopped tweezing, stopped bleaching, stopped waxing, stopped brushing my hair. No moisturizing or exfoliating. No shaving. I left the apartment infrequently. I had all my bills on automatic payment plans. I'd already paid a year of property taxes on my apartment and on my dead parents' old house upstate. Rent money from the tenants in that house showed up in my checking account by direct deposit every month. Unemployment was rolling in as long as I made the weekly call into the automated service and pressed "1" for "yes" when the robot asked if I'd made a sincere effort to find a job. That was enough to cover the copayments on all my prescriptions, and whatever I picked up at the bodega. Plus, I had investments. My dead father's financial advisor kept track of all that and sent me quarterly statements that I never read. I had plenty of money in my savings account, too-enough to live on for a few years as long as I didn't do anything spectacular. On top of all this, I had a high credit limit on my Visa card. I wasn't worried about money.
I had started "hibernating" as best I could in mid-June of 2000. I was twenty-four years old. I watched summer die and autumn turn cold and gray through a broken slat in the blinds. My muscles withered. The sheets on my bed yellowed, although I usually fell asleep in front of the television on the sofa, which was from Pottery Barn and striped blue and white and sagging and covered in coffee and sweat stains.
I didn't do much in my waking hours besides watch movies. I couldn't stand...
Au sujet de l’auteur-
Ottessa Moshfegh is a fiction writer from New England. Her first book, McGlue, a novella, won the Fence Modern Prize in Prose and the Believer Book Award. She is also the author of the short story collection Homesick for Another World. Her stories have been published in The Paris Review, The New Yorker, and Granta, and have earned her a Pushcart Prize, an O. Henry Award, the Plimpton Discovery Prize, and a grant from the National Endowment for the Arts. Eileen, her first novel, was shortlisted for the National Book Critics Circle Award and the Man Booker Prize, and won the PEN/Hemingway Award for debut fiction; My Year of Rest and Relaxation, her second novel, was a New York Times bestseller.
Critiques-
February 12, 2018 The latest from Booker finalist Moshfegh (following the story collection Homesick for Another World) is a captivating and disquieting novel about a woman's quest to sleep for a year. The unnamed narrator is in her 20s, lives alone on the Upper East Side, has plenty of money from her inheritance, and decides to hibernate with chemical assistance in the year 2000 in order to "drown out her thoughts" and avoid the world, since she "hate everyone and everything." Her only relationships are with the cashiers at her bodega, where she picks up meager supplies like coffee and animal crackers; her quack psychiatrist Dr. Tuttle, who dispenses pills like candy; and Trevor and Reva, her on-and-off boyfriend and college friend, respectively, neither of whom she likes much. For a while, the narrator's plan works: she takes "upwards of a dozen pills a day," watches movies on VHS, and willfully blanks out her life ("I was more of a somniac. A somnophile."). But when Dr. Tuttle's medication regimen intensifies and the narrator experiences strange, activity-filled blackouts from a drug called Infermiterol, she escalates her plan, with potentially fatal consequences. Though the novel drags a bit in the middle, leading up to the Infermiterol plan, it showcases Moshfegh's signature mix of provocation and dark humor. Following the narrator's dire trajectory is challenging but undeniably fascinating, likely to incite strong reactions and much discussion among readers.
Tous les exemplaires de ce titre, y compris ceux qui ont été transférés sur des appareils portables et autres supports, doivent être supprimés ou détruits une fois la période d'emprunt écoulée.
Recommandez à votre bibliothèque qu'elle ajoute ce titre à la collection numérique.
Plus de détails
Disponibilité limitée
La disponibilité peut changer durant le mois selon le budget de la bibliothèque.
est disponible pendant jours.
Une fois que la lecture débute, vous avez heures pour visionner le titre.
Permission
Le format OverDrive de ce livre électronique comporte ne narration professionnelle qui joue pendant que vous lisez dans votre navigateur. Apprenez-en plus ici.
Réservations
Nombre total de retenues:
Accès restreint
Certaines options de formatage ont été désactivées. Il est possible que vous voyiez d'autres options de téléchargement en dehors de ce réseau.
Bahreïn, Égypte, Hong Kong, Iraq, Israël, Jordanie, Koweït, Liban, Mauritanie, Maroc, Oman, Palestine, Qatar, Arabie saoudite, Soudan, République arabe syrienne, Tunisie, Turquie, Émirats arabes unis, et le Yémen
Vous avez atteint votre limite de commandes à la bibliothèque pour les titres numériques.
Pour faire de la place à plus d'emprunts, vous pouvez retourner des titres à partir de votre page Emprunts.
Limite d'emprunts atteinte
Vous avez emprunté et rendu un nombre excessif d'articles sur votre compte pendant une courte période de temps. Essayez de nouveau dans quelques jours.
Il ne reste plus d'exemplaire de cette parution. Veuillez essayer d'emprunter ce titre de nouveau lorsque la prochaine parution sera disponible.
| Se connecter
Sur la prochaine page, on vous demandera de vous connecter à votre compte de bibliothèque.
Si c'est la première fois que vous sélectionnez « Envoyer à mon NOOK », vous serez redirigé sur une page de Barnes & Noble pour vous connecter à (ou créer) votre compte NOOK. Vous devriez n'avoir qu'à vous connecter une seule fois à votre compte NOOK afin de le relier à votre compte de bibliothèque. Après cette étape unique, les publications périodiques seront automatiquement envoyées à votre compte NOOK lorsque vous sélectionnez « Envoyer à mon NOOK ».
La première fois que vous sélectionnez « Send to NOOK » (Envoyer à mon NOOK), vous serez redirigé sur la page de Barnes & Nobles pour vous connecter à (ou créer) votre compte NOOK. Vous devriez n'avoir qu'à vous connecter une seule fois à votre compte NOOK afin de le relier à votre compte de bibliothèque. Après cette étape unique, les publications périodiques seront automatiquement envoyées à votre compte NOOK lorsque vous sélectionnez « Send to NOOK » (Envoyer à mon NOOK).
Vous pouvez lire des publications périodiques sur n'importe quelle tablette NOOK ou dans l'application de lecture NOOK gratuite pour iOS, Android ou Windows 8.
Votre appareil n’aura plus accès à la bibliothèque numérique après le 30 octobre.
Nous apportons les mises à jour de sécurité nécessaires qui empêcheront cet appareil d’avoir accès à la bibliothèque numérique à partir du 30 octobre 2020.
Narrator Julia Whelan lures listeners into the prescription drug-enhanced fog in which the unnamed protagonist of this audiobook seeks temporary refuge. With the help of a pill-dispensing psychiatrist, the young woman hopes a year of sleep will cure her woes. Fueled by a large inheritance and fistfuls of pharmaceuticals, she limits her contacts to a girlfriend, an ex-boyfriend, the neighborhood bodega clerks, and an up-and-coming artist. Whelan's characterizations are perfection: a detached, sometimes languishing voice for the woman; a perky, high voice for the friend; and distracted confusion for the doctor. The woman's pursuit of hibernation as a means of escape and healing is not without humor, which Whelan perfectly nails with an understated delivery. Sharp observations about New York City round out the story. C.B.L. Winner of AudioFile Earphones Award © AudioFile 2018, Portland, Maine
