The Natashas

by Yelena Moskovich

Béatrice, a solitary young jazz singer from a genteel Parisian suburb, meets a mysterious woman named Polina. Polina visits her at night and whispers in her 'There are people who leave their bodies and their bodies go on living without them. These people are named Natasha.'César, a lonely Mexican actor working in a call centre, receives the opportunity of a a role as a serial killer on a French TV series. But as he prepares for the audition, he starts falling in love with the psychopath he is to play. Béatrice and César are drawn deeper into a city populated with visions and warnings, taunted by the chorusing of a group of young women, trapped in a windowless room, who all share the same name ... Natasha.A startlingly original novel that recalls the unsettling visual worlds of Cindy Sherman and David Lynch and the writing of Angela Carter and Haruki Murakami, The Natashas establishes Yelena Moskovich as one of the most exciting young writers of her generation.

Genres: Fiction, Novels, Ukraine, Contemporary, Queer, Literary Fiction, Ebooks

162 pages, Paperback

First published January 21, 2016

About the author

Yelena Moskovich is a Soviet-Ukrainian American and French writer and artist. She immigrated to America with her family as Jewish refugees in 1991. After graduating with a degree in playwriting from Emerson College, Boston, she moved to Paris to study at the Lecoq School of Physical Theatre, and later for a Masters degree in Art, Philosophy and Aesthetics from Université Paris 8. She co-founded her own theatre company, La Compagnie Pavlov in Paris in 2009 (since inactive). Her plays and performances have been produced in the US, Canada, France, and Sweden. She has also written for Vogue, Frieze, Apartamento, Times Literary Supplement, Paris Review, amongst others. In 2018, she served as a curator and exhibiting artist for the Los Angeles Queer Biennial. She lives in Paris

Reviews

[Michael Ferro · Rating 5 out of 5]

My full review is now available at the Michigan Quarterly Review:

"Lyrical, brooding, and delightfully dreamlike, [THE NATASHAS] is a strange and ruthless journey into the ailing heart of humanity—and a bizarre peek into the mind of a brilliant new novelist."

https://sites.lsa.umich.edu/mqr/2018/...

[Blair · Rating 4 out of 5]

(Review originally published on my blog, February 2016)

Béatrice, a solitary young jazz singer from a genteel Parisian suburb, meets a mysterious woman named Polina. Polina visits her at night and whispers in her ear: 'There are people who leave their bodies and their bodies go on living without them. These people are named Natasha.' César, a lonely Mexican actor working in a call centre, receives the opportunity of a lifetime: a role as a serial killer on a French TV series. But as he prepares for the audition, he starts falling in love with the psychopath he is to play. Béatrice and César are drawn deeper into a city populated with visions and warnings, taunted by the chorusing of a group of young women, trapped in a windowless room, who all share the same name... Natasha.

This was a case of a book bearing little resemblance to the expectations I formed after reading the blurb - but then, it's fair to say The Natashas is nothing much like any other book. I made the mistake of taking that line about 'people who leave their bodies' literally, imagining the Natashas as a group of powerful, magical women, like something out of a myth. I was surprised to find they're actually a group of very young girls implied to be victims of a sex-trafficking operation; they're in that 'windowless room' because they are kept there by their captors. Incidental to the main body of the story, they only appear in occasional chapters, have no real arc, and don't get involved with the actual main characters, Béatrice and César. There's no better way to describe them than Kirsty Logan's observation, in her Guardian review of the book, that they function as a Greek chorus, introducing and commenting on the themes of the novel.

Yet this story is suffused with magical realism; it appears in the most unexpected of places, leading the reader, like the characters, down strange and winding paths. The story's most surreal moments - for example, César's conversation with a dead woman, who morphs into the ghost of someone else and signs off with 'I'll email you' - are its strongest. There's a cinematic quality to The Natashas that makes the visual comparisons its blurb draws - to the films of David Lynch and the photographs of Cindy Sherman - seem a better fit than the cited literary similarities (for the record, those are Angela Carter and Haruki Murakami, though Moskovich's writing reminded me most of Helen Oyeyemi).

Moskovich is a writer and producer of plays who was born in the Ukraine, educated in the USA and France, and now lives in Paris. I can't help but think her background has influenced her writing style, which is luminous, amusing and creative. Her similes and brief descriptions of people are odd but beautiful, attention-grabbing simply because they are so unusual and because they instantly conjure up an image. Here are just a few I made a note of while reading the book:

Béatrice thought about his question. It felt like a room full of empty shoes.

The woman's cheekbones sloped in a way that made Béatrice think that she had lost her watch or that she couldn't have children.

"Sorry, Pardohen," an American-looking girl said as she pulled her rolling suitcase after her. César got a glimpse of her face. She must have played the clarinet as a child and sided with her dad during the divorce.

As strange as it is, The Natashas also has a distinctive sense of humour, something which works as a welcome antidote to its darker moments. The scene in which César works himself into a frenzy of anxiety over turning down a terrible-sounding role, convincing himself it was actually the chance of a lifetime, is particularly funny. Of the two protagonists, he is by far the most successful, seeming both more real and more fanciful a character than Béatrice. He works in a call centre to make ends meet and stares at the phone in hope of good news from his agent, but there's also his split-personality identity as Manny; the surreal episode of his relationship with Stefan; the aforementioned conversation with a ghost.

This brings me to the downside of The Natashas' unreality: while César feels complete, some of the other characters are one-dimensional, and Béatrice is the prime example. Her shallowness is unfortunate considering that she's the ostensible heroine - but it wasn't lost on me that my reaction to Béatrice was designed to match the character's own frustration, as well as the flimsiness of her image in the eyes of others, as nothing more than a beautiful object, an empty vessel for their desires. In this way, The Natashas is a hall of mirrors.

The novel touches on themes of beauty, sexuality, self-actualisation and the escape to be found in becoming someone else, but it doesn't resolve any of these into a decisive ending or message, remaining inscrutable to the last. It works best when it glories in its oddness, and personally, I was relieved it didn't attempt to say something about objectification or the sex trade. The resolution of the novel - inasmuch as there is a resolution - is woozy and nonsensical. People split in two; Béatrice leaves a room while she's simultaneously up on stage, singing. The narrative, which is made up of numbered sections of various lengths all the way through, breaks down to mere sentences. It leaves an impression of glimpsed scenes, haunting fragments of dreams. The Natashas, though, stay in their windowless room.

[Magdelanye · Rating 4 out of 5]

When you look at someone, it is very hard to believe that they might not be seeing you too...p58

When you sooner or later realize that this may generally be the case, alienation may have already have set you apart. The dislocation most likely stems from circumstances beyond your control; this may be acute and physical or it may be more subtle and easy to mistake for some kind of personality disorder. That would depend on how well you are able to keep your masks in place.

It is hard to put my finger on why this surrealistic treatment of identity and its construction was so compelling, given some of the repulsive and disturbing scenes that caused me to slam the book shut. After calming myself down somewhat I would find myself staring at the cover. Slyly, without my complete consent, I would open it again and pick up reading. This is a relatively short book, but it took me 4 days of this to reach the last page. Was it the end? I am still feeling dislocated myself, falling into a trance if I try to think about it too much, unsure whether I am Beatrice or Polina. Looking up out the window as the bus passed of a row of shops the name of one leaped out: a dress shop: Polina's. I was tempted to jump off the bus to follow this clue. Where were they holding the Natashas?

Thanks to Michael Ferro who encouraged me with his review and kind response to my comment on it. There are other insightful reviews here and it seems as if I am not alone in finding this a tricky book to assess. From the Greek Chorus locked away in a windowless room to the glass pyramids beside the Louvre, this trip is a circular ride that takes the reader to that subterranean place labelled for pondering later. Oddly enough, I take comfort from the authors words, even when they follow shortly after making a case for the power of confusion.

The more you don't get it, the closer you are to it. As soon as you start understanding, making sense of things, well...that's where the real idiocy begins. p99

[Gretel · Rating 2 out of 5]

To get the most out of this don't treat it like your average novel. Treat it as you would an art installation. Some bits are tense and breath-taking (César embracing his role as serial killer in a TV series), some parts are laughably pretentious, steeped in way too much symbolism. I think it has almost all of the ingredients to mesh together into a much more satisfying novel, but it doesn't. Because art.

[Lucy Somerhalder · Rating 4 out of 5]

A really interesting exploration of objectification. The Natashas looks at what it means to have your humanity stripped away, be it because you are too beautiful, too crippled, too homosexual, or just too darn female. I really enjoyed the writing (almost play-like, and very engaging), and I think Moskovich does a lovely job of creating very real characters who have retreated almost into nothingness in an attempt to avoid having the last vestiges of themselves stolen away.

[Michael Green · Rating 3 out of 5]

Beautifully written but with minimal narrative it is presumably meant to be a metaphor and have a message. If so, they were completely lost on me...

[Jim · Rating 5 out of 5]

It's easy to see why The Natashas has evoked comparisons to David Lynch. The characters inhabit a world that is dreamy, steamy and downright dangerous. The hardboiled cozies up with the supernatural in a world that's pretty much like ours but different in a way that's challenging to describe. I can't think of another modern work of fiction whose surrealism is as casual as it's relationship to realism. It's odd, but not jarringly so. Off-kilter in a way that's hard to pin down. Each character is world unto herself. Where The Natashas is unequivocally exceptional is its prose and I can't wait to see what Moskovich does next.

[Paul · Rating 5 out of 5]

I have to start out by saying this Is a stranger book, it flows to the beat of its own drum. And quite frankly is not really like anything else I have had the privilege to read in quite some time. I really enjoy these kinds of books the deal with people we would not give a second look to should we pass them on the street. It takes you into a world the is so very different from our own. In a lot of ways, it reminds me of another book I read called Daughters of Air by Anca L. Szilagyi They both deal with people trying to make there lives right, with any real way of doing so. They also both slip from this world into something else, another place that the gods of old and the spirits of those gone still hold a little sway on the lives of mortals. With the Natashas it takes a little while just to work out which of our characters is playing the tune and which is dancing to it. The Natashas themselves float into the story from time to time to check up on our leads. Never really having much effect on the paths these heroes walk. More there to pass judgment or add a sarcastic comment along the way. Trapped in a windowless room never leaving it is hard to place them. Much like others have commented at first I too thought they were the victims of sex trafficking but they are something else I'm still trying to work out. Just maybe they were in another life and this is what happened to them when they passed over.



Beatrice's life has not been an easy one, she is holding on by her fingernails as she ekes out a living singing Jazz. Only made worse by Polina who introduces her to a world beyond her own. Much like the others, she is hard one to in down. We capture her in fleeting movements as she passes through scenes almost within a dream of her own never quite coming into focus. she is the idea of a women someone who is seen in the background of other pictures. You could spend a lifetime with her and never really get to know who she is. In part, I think because she doesn't really know her self. But also someone desperate to escape the place she finds her self. And in this way maybe she is just a little too willing to believe in what Polina will tell her. For me, Cesar felt the more ground, in reality, just maybe this is down to my own perceived notions of the jobs they hold. I realize this is down to my own sense of the world. Those who play in smoke old jazz clubs belong to another world. Even if they do hold a very special place in my heart. For me, Cesar acts a kind of pin stopping the story from completely floating away into someone else dream. But this is still only just, he is a man broken by circumstance, Born into the wrong country and wrong life he too is desperate to rip off the shackles that have bound him to an inevitable fate.



Moskovich has clearly spent a great deal of time to working out how to tell this story her own and unique way. to say it felt like a dream would not be giving it enough credit for the complexity of layers it brings forward. This is by no means a conventional novel, while it has a start middle and ends it felt to me like I was only getting snapshots of these lives. With each one asking a lot from its readers. This book was never going to had you all the answers on a plate and say look here this is what it all means. In fact, I'm fairly sure I didn't really get any at all. But the author never promised this to me. What she does is offer up this world and allowed me to make my own way through its labyrinth looking for that allusive Minotaur. It asked of my a great deal and brought up so many questions. What does it truly mean to be who we are and if given the chance would you jump bodies in the hope of a better life. I suppose for these people this is not such an easy thing when your demons are so intertwined with your soul it is something that you can never run away from.



This book will I know not to appeal to everyone, for some this will hold no interest and they will probably put it down not long after they pick it up. On the other hand, if you are like me it will grow to hold a special place for you. Its a book that is filled with a melancholy state, those trapped in a never-ending series of back alleys never quite managing to get to where the bright lights fill the streets and the crowd's bustle along the sidewalk, there faces forever obscured. But for the briefest of moments Moskovich lets us peek into there world and get lost in there dreams or nightmares depending on how you view them. All of this is not to say this book dose not hold a sense of humour to it, Just that it play much like the whole book to it's own tune. Giving little musical accents to the main body of the book. I would point say that it is one of the few books I have read recently that has made it's way on to my forever shelf and I'm sure latter on in the year I will read it again.

[Matthew · Rating 3 out of 5]

A Moskovich novel is always a surreal song heard at the edge of a forest on a very cold night.

[skylar lokota]

DNF at 62% just not for me

[Teresa · Rating 4 out of 5]

I am having trouble writing a proper review on this. I am still totally blown away and impressed by this book.
Strange and bizarre. Emotional and straightforward. Lots of seemingly isolated narratives, individual characters and separate parts that come together like a jigsaw puzzle. The central theme is identity and the loss of it.
Surreal. The Natashas are introduced in the following way: "There are people who leave their bodies and their bodies go on living without them. These people are named Natasha." The implication here is that these are young women who are victims of human trafficking and forced into prostitution, thus losing their identities and their bodies. Deeply sad and tragic. It tears me apart.
The book is so unique, you don't know what to expect, and you cannot guess what will happen next. There are not many books like this anymore. Yelena Moskovich is one of my favourite authors! I want to read everything she writes.

[Karrie Cook · Rating 2 out of 5]

Very strangely written but I kind of liked it? There were certain lines that stopped me in my tracks. The story is sort of all over the place and plays with illusions so it can be difficult to keep up.

[John Biscello · Rating 5 out of 5]

You enter a dark, deserted warehouse on the waterfront. One that smells of cats and kerosene, and whose walls are covered with dusty calendars from bygone eras. Or perhaps you find yourself in the balmy catacombs of an arterial sanctuary. Or, fill-in-the-blank, and create a setting that corresponds with your own resonant sense of dislocation, the flickering rose-light of omen and mystery. Simply, you are there, delegate to enigma, compelled to explore, to scratch an existential itch, which began with a crumb floating in a pool of cirrus: “In the boxshaped windowless room, all the girls are named Natasha.” A simple description and declaration, what could be the textual fade-in to a Samuel Beckett cryptogram, and it is this cinematic “teaser” which has drawn your inner-Philip Marlowe into a Maya Deren filmscape where a sign warns: The dream you are dreaming may not be your own. Welcome to the lucidly baffling world of Yelena Moskovich.

The Natashas is a a throughly arresting debut novel, one whose subtitle could be“Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered” as Moskovich distills the honeyed bones of slow, brooding jazz into a salacious mind-fuck.

Moskovich’s questions are ones of philosophical heft — Where do the orphaned and exiled parts of our selves go? to what gods and demons are they sacrificed? what are the consequences of a collective epidemic ranging from spiritual narcolepsy to soul-amnesia? — and they are deftly subordinated to an architecture of beguiling originality, a labyrinth that offers no easy ways out or definite resolutions. It is, an experiment that closes in on itself, and in its controlled narrowing not only produces lyrically charged strains of music, but also the need for music as a source of salvation and commune.

[Lottie Louise · Rating 5 out of 5]

César fights for control with the characters he plays whilst Béatrice battles against her own body and none of them ever seem to win.

The Natsahas is set against a world which feels like a mirror image of our own, exactly the same at a first glance but full of enough little differences to make you question everything. Two characters César and Béatrice, and of course the Natashas, fall victim to this warped reality. I am going to be honest, I am not 100% sure what happened in this book, I read it and I understood it and I felt like it understood me. But I cannot put into words what it is about. It felt like an illicit unspecified dark brown liquid poured into crystal glasses, to be sipped until you are drunk and very very sad; in a good way.

You can tell that Moskovich is a playwright as well as a novelist. I could not help but be reminded of Martin Crimp’s ‘Attempts on her Life’ and Sarah Kane’s ‘Cleansed’ specifically when falling in and out of this tsunami novel. She paints tiny scenes that fall together into a jarringly beautiful mosaic which could only be described as bewitching.

You all know I am not very good at your standard reviews, I get lost in the books meaning and ideas and fail to tell you all every single time why I am rabbiting on and on. This book is warm on the tongue with its beautifully delicate prose and dark in the throat with its bitter understanding of the darkest parts of ourselves.

Read if you are lost and scared to be found.

[Ioana Lily Balas · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book reads like a fever dream, think David Lynch or Alejandro Jodorowsky. Worlds merge, people appear, timelines intersect.

We are following three perspectives: jazz singer Beatrice, actor Cesar and victims of sex traffic the Natashas. And what they all have in common is that they end up disconnecting from their bodily self, it's the dehumanising aspect where the soul floats away into another dimension. This can happen through objectification, physical or emotional trauma or playing pretend. And while I consider this exploration worthwhile and it is what intrigued me, I didn't think the execution was up to scratch.

The writing is incredibly pretentious, and while I do find a space to appreciate that when done well, here I just had to shake my head. Between repeated sentences, to forced symbols and mysterious dialogue, it didn't evolve naturally. In my opinion it focused to much on creating an eerie atmosphere than on telling a story. I read it yet I feel like I was lost for the most part trying to look beyond this form into the message. And most of the time I just got to the conclusion it wasn't there as I was hoping.

[Annie · Rating 2 out of 5]

Yelena Moskovich’s grueling novel, The Natashas, is, I’m afraid, a story that will only be read by people who already agree with its message. The people who probably need to hear about what this book has to say are unlikely to pick it up. This book tells the story of two people who learn to detach themselves and perform their “roles” according to what others want. Béatrice and César’s stories are attended by a Greek chorus of “Natashas,” women who have lost their original identities as they’ve been trafficked across Europe...

Read the rest of my review at A Bookish Type. I received a free copy of this book from the publisher via Edelweiss for review consideration.

[Derek · Rating 4 out of 5]

Shades of Murakami and David Lynch (didn't come up with the Lynch comparison on my own, but seeing it in various other reviews I really do get that vibe also), yet a style that is still entirely her own. The most magical thing about The Natashas is the quality of Moskovich's descriptions. With English not being her first language, the turns of phrase are truly unique. An eerily captivating debut novel from a young author whose work I will definitely continue to follow.

[Angela Natividad · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book was like a fever dream. It merits a second read. I was quickly sucked in, though.

[Jake Scheidel · Rating 2 out of 5]

I fully did not understand what happened in this book.

[leni · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Natashas is surely Yelena Moskovich’s rich, bizarre, spellbinding debut novel.

Kind advice to anyone planning to read this: if you want to enjoy this novel, do not treat it like any other summer read by the beach, rather treat it like a piece of valuable art. Imagine if you went to the Louvre but you don't understand any of the paintings around cause you just don't surrender to the art?

In general, the story follows three different points of view, all written in a dreamy, steamy and downright dangerous manner that however at some point they reach a connection without giving to the reader the usual 'wholesome' ending of a typical novel.

A young woman grows up, becomes beautiful, and is harassed by nearly every male person she encounters; finally, something terrible happens to her. At the same time, a young man grows up, moves away from home, tries to become an actor, and possibly loses his mind due to the stress of various symbolic masks he must wear. But neither story is resolved. It's not made evident what happens to the young woman, Béatrice, and if the young man, César, gets the TV role he wants or becomes the killer that his delusions pushed him towards. Between these two characters we can see some connections, but nothing specific. Lastly, there is a mysterious woman, Polina, who appears and disappears without explanation; the “box-shaped room” full of girl-women named Natasha; and the many ghosts and dreams drifting through Paris.

To someone looking for a nice, quick read this will definetly not work them; they will say it's too confusing, too complicated to follow through, does not have a clear given ending and so more...

but i loved this book

I don't want to spend time commenting on the structure and the way it was written because I feel that this book should be 'judged' simply for the taste it leaves the reader once the last page is finished. I will only say this in regards to the writing :

It has a phenomenal focus on language, but not to the exclusion of characterization. Or if you are a literature student- euphemisms/symbolisms.

Now, in terms of characters, I have to say this was a novel where even. though I could see the flaws within them, I still really loved every one of them, with no exceptions. In the beginning, it looks as if these characters share nothing in common and are the exact opposite of one another. César narrates his desires as a gay man but has almost no experience, while Béatrice has a lesbian experience but offers almost no narration on her sexuality. Béatrice is a singer and César is an actor, but for César, performing is ambition, and for Béatrice, it’s an afterthought.

To get something clear, both of these personas do not fit in the description: 'battling their own demons.

No, what they are is just two characters, living in Paris, coerced and seduced by situations bigger than they are. Maybe this is what they do have in common by the end.

The book to me was fresh, enticing, like nothing I’ve ever read before.
Moskovich’s voice is really her own, even in a simple scene between Béatrice and her parents or in the pages where César despite being gay, has an erection from the words of a woman. It's just wonderful, both to read and to imagine.

Dreams overlap with character's lives, as do fantasies, hallucinations, tv show plots, and the lives of strangers. Absurdity and human trafficking. Identity and objectification. You can surely say that this piece of literature offers a lot of food for thought... You simply have to be open to it.

I will not stop thinking about The Natashas after I finish this review, and I think it will remain on my shelf for many years to come.

[Jim · Rating 4 out of 5]

Moskovich's first novel but the second of hers I have read, after 'Virtuoso', which I found brilliant and strange. This novel sidles up pleasurably to descriptives like "bizarre", "violent", "sexually charged" and "unsettling" with no shame at all. The two main characters - Béatrice and César - each have their own demons to simultaneously exorcise and entice, though it is hard to tell which verb holds more sway in their choice of activity. Both characters fight their sexuality, but in differing ways, the result of two separate but painfully traumatic pasts. Their stories are linked, rather oddly, but completely fitting to the unreality of their stories and the overall narrative. The titular Natashas have some elements of a Greek chorus (always females...), or an unseemly side plot of child-sex trafficking, or just another dreamlike sequence of whatthefuck? Yes, Moskovich writes something almost unbelievable, consistently. The writing itself may be the star, interestingly enough, as our author is obviously not English-first linguistically, which provides some rather funny descriptions, comparisons, and imagery. But don't take that as a negative or a criticism, for I don't doubt Moskovich knows well what she is doing throughout, and may just be having us on. Maybe, just. More dream-ish/less concrete, or maybe merely showing us the line between real and less real isn't so clear, or even that there is no line at all. Look to the questions, not for answers, in this one.

[Samantha · Rating 3 out of 5]

Life's a one-key piano sometimes...

How opaque. This debut novel tells a vague story of objectification, expectation and the male gaze; concerning both men and women who do not wish to fit into the traditional mold of society.

It comes as no surprise that César's alter-ego falls into the trap of machismo and emulates his aggressive male family members, while drawing on the lurkings of his own persona. His encounter with Stefan emulates this perfectly. His aggression is not shiny or personable, it is lonely and sad. After a lifetime of consistent sexual harassment and objectification, Beatrice withdraws and withdraws inside herself until she cannot be coaxed out, and eventually separates from herself completely.

Some of the metaphors whooshed past my head, but overall I felt that a lot of meaning was packed into a comparatively small book.

[Tom]

I'd call this Lynchian, but I feel like the strongest parts of the book (the most surreal elements) would work much better in a visual medium. That being said, I think what I liked the most about it were the interludes, where various themes in the book are (perhaps, comically) discussed by The Natashas, a group of young women locked in a windowless room, presumably victims of a sex-trade operation.

This was both a fascinating read and a frustrating one. Most characters lack depth, and I think the ending is way too anticlimactic, but I like how Moskovich offers no real answers (you can tell she's a playwright by the way she writes dialogue, too). Themes of sexuality and identity are cleverly approached through metaphors and magical realism, but I can't help but think the story is missing a few chapters.

[Nikki · Rating 4 out of 5]

I’ve made no secret about falling in love with Yelena Moskovitch. I recently got a tattoo to keep “Virtuoso” with me wherever I go. I unintentionally read her three books on the reverse order of their publication dates and so this, my last, was actually her first. And so having read her others, knowing how her confidence in her craft progresses, takes more chances, I can say this is not my favorite but it is certainly the clear seed of the beautiful growth that follows.
This book, like the two that follow, feels like a dream — descriptions in a near poetry that leave you feeling like you are floating combined with the sense you f dread knowing that, as in dreams, something dark can pop up in a moment.
Her writing is like no other. The Natashas is provocative, disturbing (a pit in my stomach feeling reading it at times!), and incomparably gorgeous.

[Andrew · Rating 4 out of 5]

I loved reading this book - and when I say that, I mean I loved the physical process of reading it: the expectation of picking it up, the excitement over the prose, and the desire to find where it was headed. However if you're seeking meaning then there's a lot to unpack here, and as a reader I felt I fell at the final hurdle (I wasn't expecting resolution or explanation on any level but was hoping for more than simply over). No doubt this was my fault, books aren't there to bend for you, but it did edge away from one of my rare five star ratings because of it. What remains, though, is some glorious prose, some cul-de-sacs and unexpected turnings, some elevated mystery and a rush of possibility. This is the first Moskovich I've read, but I'm going to seek more.

[Jon · Rating 4 out of 5]

Dreams overlap with character's lives, as do fantasies, hallucinations, tv show plots, and the lives of strangers. Absurdity and human trafficking. Identity and objectification. This is a novel of life's incommensurables which says a lot almost before you can even notice.

I found Moskovich's first novel interesting, engaging, and even humorous. Sometimes literary experimentation can be insufferable, but in the right hands you can see what is truly possible with the form. It also makes me very curious about what else she has written; time to go investigate her other novels.

[Alex · Rating 3 out of 5]

Immersive prose that explores themes of objectification and the male gaze with an experimental lyrical style. It's a novel I would have loved when I was studying literature more fervently in college, but now I often found myself pulled out of the story by gruesome and, frankly, triggering imagery that often had me set the book down and ask myself, "do I really want to finish reading this?" It's a book that will unveil itself more each time you read it, but not one I found myself desiring to reread in the end.

[Natasha · Rating 3 out of 5]

The Natashas caught my eye because it's my name-sake. Number one way NOT to select a book, although, I think it paid off(?).

Essentially, the book follows two characters on a journey of self discovery whilst overcoming doubt: the growing pains of an adult (injected with some surreality).

Somehow, I was captivated even though nothing really happened...perhaps I was holding out for an ending that tied the story up but even that didn't happen...

[Sandra Norsen · Rating 1 out of 5]

I abandoned this because the writing was just awful. Clunky, meaningless figurative language and boring characters I did not find compelled to follow or find out about. Tedious. Set it aside after a few aborted attempts.

[James Henry · Rating 3 out of 5]

Though this ended up not being my thing, it's nice to try something outside of my comfort zone. I didn't like this as a whole, but the individual stories of Béatrice and César were distinct, creepy, and disturbing enough to be intriguing on their own.