Resultado de "Ottessa Moshfegh" em Todas as categorias

Esilarante e stranamente tenero, l’esperimento di “ibernazione” narcotica di una giovane donna, aiutata e incoraggiata da una delle peggiori psichiatre della storia. New York, all’alba del nuovo millennio. La protagonista gode di molti privilegi, almeno in apparenza. È giovane, magra, carina, da poco laureata alla Columbia e vive, grazie a un’eredità, in un appartamento nell’Upper East Side di Manhattan. Ma c’è qualcosa che le manca, c’è un vuoto nella sua vita che non è semplicemente legato alla prematura perdita dei genitori o al modo in cui la tratta il fidanzato che lavora a Wall Street.

Salem, Massachusetts, 1851: McGlue, marinero rudo, tramposo y canalla, nos habla desde la bodega mugrienta del barco en la que está retenido, en un estado de embriaguez intermitente que vuelve la realidad ambigua. Divaga entre recuerdos borrosos y teje una fina línea entre la niebla del alcohol y las trampas de la memoria. Es posible que haya matado a un hombre, y que ese hombre fuera su mejor amigo. Ahora, solo quiere un trago para acallar las aterradoras sombras que acompañan a su indeseada sobriedad.

When Dinah Brooke's second novel, Lord Jim at Home, was first published in 1973, it was described as "squalid and startling," "nastily horrific," and a "monstrous parody" of upper-middle class English life. It is the story of Giles Trenchard, who grows up isolated in an atmosphere of privilege and hidden violence; who goes to war, and returns; and then, one day—like the hero of Joseph Conrad's classic Lord Jim—commits an act that calls his past, his character, his whole world into question.

While on her daily walk with her dog in a secluded woods, a woman comes across a note, handwritten and carefully pinned to the ground by stones. "Her name was Magda. Nobody will ever know who killed her. It wasn't me. Here is her dead body." But there is no dead body. Our narrator is deeply shaken; she has no idea what to make of this. She is new to this area, alone after the death of her husband, and she knows no one. Becoming obsessed with solving this mystery, our narrator imagines who Magda was and how she met her fate.

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.

Eine Kriminalgeschichte der anderen Art: spannend, beängstigend, bewegend. Bei Sonnenaufgang läuft Vesta mit ihrem Hund eine Runde durch den Wald - die tägliche Routine einer einsamen alten Frau -, als sie einen Zettel findet: "Ihr Name war Magda. Niemand wird je erfahren, wer sie getötet hat. Hier ist ihre Leiche." Obwohl von der Leiche jede Spur fehlt, lässt Vesta der Gedanke an einen Mord nicht mehr los. Wer war Magda? Und wer könnte ihr Mörder sein? Die Aufklärung dieser Fragen wird zu Vestas Mission.

While on her daily walk with her dog in the nearby woods, our protagonist comes across a note, handwritten and carefully pinned to the ground with stones. 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, she is also alone and new to this area, having moved here from her long-time home after the death of her husband, and now deeply alarmed. Her brooding about the note grows quickly into a full-blown obsession as she explores multiple theories about who Magda was and how she met her fate.

Our narrator should be happy, shouldn't she? She's young, thin, pretty, a recent Columbia graduate; she works an easy job at a hip art gallery and 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?

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.

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.

Nostalgia de otro mundo reúne sus mejores relatos, ganadores de los premios Pushcart, O. Henry o Plimpton Discovery Prize, con los que ha entrado a formar parte del universo literario de Flannery O’Connor o Angela Carter.

En la aldea medieval de Lapvona, el pequeño Marek vive en la más absoluta pobreza con su padre Jude, viudo, devoto y agresivo. Cojo, con la cara deforme y una concepción distorsionada de la realidad, Marek solo halla consuelo en su temor de Dios y en sus visitas a Ina, una anciana con saberes ocultos que vive alejada del mundo. Cuando una muerte violenta lo sitúa en el epicentro de la vida palaciega, Marek pasa a convertirse en un auténtico aristócrata dentro de la corte del corrupto y ensimismado señor feudal que gobierna Lapvona.

In the land of Lapvona, the lord of the land Villiam is cheating the local villagers of their food, their water, their livelihoods. Grotesque and ridiculous, he marries the pregnant and tongueless ex-nun Agata, whom he believes will make him God, and his son will be the second Christ.

Little Marek, the abused and delusional son of the village shepherd, believes his mother died giving birth to him. One of Marek’s few consola­tions is his enduring bond with the blind village midwife, Ina, who suckled him when he was a baby. For some people, Ina’s ability to receive trans­missions of sacred knowledge from the natural world is a godsend. For others, Ina’s home in the woods is a godless place.