By Damla
“I knew in my heart—this was, perhaps, the only thing my heart knew back then — that when I’d slept enough, I’d be okay. I’d be renewed, reborn. I would be a whole new person, every one of my cells regenerated enough times that the old cells were just distant, foggy memories. My past life would be but a dream, and I could start over without regrets, bolstered by the bliss and serenity that I would have accumulated in my year of rest and relaxation.”
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I really have an awed sense of respect for characters that seem to be only powered by their intrusive thoughts. There is a sense of freedom even in reading about them: no control, no care, only destruction and reckless abandon. The kind of things you would perhaps never do, but can’t help but wonder what if.
So, our heroine asks, what if the solution to the incessant feeling of alienation and grief that she feels is to just… sleep it off? Just to close your eyes, not for a few hours but for months on end, to get away from the loss of her parents, the toxic nature of her friendships, and the city that is so obsessed with power and status. So, with the help of an alarming quantity of sleeping pills and a general disregard for her health and relationships, she sets out to do just that.
The whole thing was a wild ride, fluctuating between recklessly sad, honest, bitter, funny, rude, numbing, and unexpected. For somebody who spends a whole year sleeping or shuffling around under the haze of heavy sleep inducing drugs, growing more and more unhinged by the day, she has strangely impactful insights that can knock you off your feet when you least expect it. That’s what’s so great about this book. In short, I would say this was like The Bell Jar, on all of the drugs.
Just a weird, hazy, dark, and fascinating read.
