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Romanticizing Mental Illness in My Year of Rest and Relaxation

The opinions expressed in this article are the writer’s own and do not reflect the views of Her Campus.
This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Emerson chapter.

As an aspiring author and book enthusiast, I have often seen fall as the perfect time to catch up on my ever growing “to be read” list. It’s cozy, the weather turns colder, and it is a great excuse to curl up with a new book. While looking for new novels to enjoy, one book I have not been able to escape is “My Year of Rest and Relaxation” by Otessa Moshfegh. 

The novel has gained enormous success and is being advertised everywhere as a must-read book from TikTok, the LA Times, Vogue, and even local bookstores. Moshfegh’s book has become almost an accessory, spotted in countless Instagram posts from influencers to it girls, so I decided to pick up the book that hot girls were reading.

The first thing I noticed from reading the back cover, was that it immediately reminded me of “The Bell Jar” by Sylvia Plath. I felt that as soon as I had a character description of the protagonist, I knew exactly what kind of female archetype she was going to fulfill. 

While the troubled, beautiful, talented, and depressed female character has existed for a long time, I’ve noticed a trend within recent years that this specific archetype has been gaining traction in the literary world and many of the most popular young adult novels have featured this type of character. The novel “Normal People” by Sally Rooney comes to mind, as well as “The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo” by Taylor Jenkins Reid. 

While I am entirely guilty of admiring this type of character, the aspect of romanticizing self-destructive characters is worrisome. These characters often have issues with drug abuse and mental illness, and while it can be argued that depicting this in literature raises awareness, I often see these issues being excused by the character’s supposed “genius.” She’s a Columbia graduate that lands a coveted job at an art gallery, afterall. Although the trauma of both of her parents deaths hovers over the novel, the character never truly processes it further than it being a plot device to explain her wealth. It sends a message that dealing with those struggles is alright, as long as you are a beautiful, talented, intelligent, wealthy woman. And yes—these characters are typically white.

It makes me wonder why popular culture is drawn to these problematic characters that seem to be gracefully spiraling out of control. 

I think audiences are charmed by the superficial qualities of these characters and readers are more likely to hold onto the image of the beautiful, talented, despondent woman and gloss over the very real trauma the character endures. The archetype has become an aesthetic that is romanticized, instead of a true exploration of these characters’ deeper issues. 

Through turning this character into an aesthetic, it not only encourages young women to want to copy self-destructive behaviors, but in a novel like “My Year of Rest and Relaxation” it makes seeking professional help seem detrimental. I find this particularly insensitive as mental health is a serious issue, and spreading real awareness and providing support is already a difficult enough task on its own. Moshfegh seems to handle her character’s mental health flippantly and places an emphasis on the monetary aspect of therapy and psychiatry, which reduces the relationship between doctor and patient to one resembling a drug dealer and user. The novel is almost an ode to self-medicating, which is an overall dangerous and insensitive message to young women. 

There’s a big difference between normalizing and romanticizing, and what these characters fail to show is the humanity behind the suffering. They suffer for aesthetic purposes and then are added to countless Pinterest boards and TikTok videos, labeled as “coquette” or “old money.”

I think that for writers this is an excellent time – where readers have had more tolerance for and acceptance of mental health issues than ever before – to try to depict an honest representation of this struggle instead of romanticizing problematic behavior in order to bait hot girls into making it their summer read.

Paris McClung

Emerson '25

Paris (she/her) is a sophomore and Creative Writing major at Emerson College. She is from sunny San Diego, CA and besides writing loves ballet, film, and photography.