In “Death in Her Hands,” Ottessa Moshfegh’s fourth novel, we are once again plunged into the mind of a deeply unreliable narrator whose perception of reality is as fragile as the autumn leaves crunching beneath her feet. This time, our guide is Vesta Gul, a 72-year-old widow who has relocated to a remote cabin in the fictional town of Levant following her husband’s death. What begins as a seemingly simple mystery—Vesta discovers a cryptic note during her morning walk claiming “Her name was Magda. Nobody will ever know who killed her. It wasn’t me. Here is her dead body”—quickly spirals into something far more disturbing: a profound examination of loneliness, grief, and the human tendency to create narratives when faced with emptiness.
Unlike Moshfegh’s breakout novel “Eileen” or her bestseller “My Year of Rest and Relaxation,” which relied on plot momentum to varying degrees, “Death in Her Hands” is almost entirely internal. The action unfolds primarily in Vesta’s increasingly unstable mind as she obsessively constructs an elaborate murder mystery from the scant details of the note, complete with suspects, motives, and the victim’s life story. There is no body to be found—just Vesta’s imagination running wild in the vacuum of her isolation.
The Haunting of Empty Spaces
Moshfegh has always excelled at creating characters who exist at society’s margins, and Vesta is perhaps her most isolated creation yet. With only her dog Charlie for company, Vesta’s days are marked by mundane routines—walks in the woods, simple meals, sporadic trips to town—that barely mask her profound alienation from the world around her.
The setting itself becomes a character: the remote cabin by a lake, formerly a Girl Scout camp, surrounded by dark pine woods that literally take Vesta’s breath away. Moshfegh utilizes this claustrophobic setting to heighten the psychological tension, creating an atmosphere where the boundaries between reality and delusion blur with each passing day.
What makes the novel truly unsettling is how Moshfegh gradually reveals that Vesta’s investigation into “Magda’s murder” may actually be a twisted form of self-examination. As Vesta invents details about Magda’s life, we begin to suspect she’s actually processing her own traumas—particularly regarding her late husband Walter, whose psychological domination continues even after his death.
Strengths: The Masterful Psychological Portrait
Moshfegh’s greatest achievement in “Death in Her Hands” is her unflinching portrayal of a mind coming undone. The novel excels when we witness Vesta’s thought processes in real-time:
- The internal monologue: Vesta’s voice is distinctive and compelling, oscillating between lucidity and confusion, between earnest detective work and flights of paranoid fancy.
- The layered excavation of marriage: As Vesta’s investigation progresses, we gradually uncover the disturbing dynamics of her decades-long marriage to Walter, a controlling academic who belittled and isolated her.
- The blurring of reality: Moshfegh expertly manipulates the reader’s perception, making us question what’s real and what’s imagined in Vesta’s world.
- Dark humor: Despite the bleak subject matter, Moshfegh injects moments of pitch-black comedy that heighten rather than relieve the tension.
Vesta’s deteriorating relationship with her dog Charlie serves as perhaps the most effective barometer of her mental state. What begins as a loving companionship gradually transforms into something sinister, culminating in one of the novel’s most disturbing scenes.
Weaknesses: The Elusive Plot
Where “Death in Her Hands” struggles is in its narrative cohesion. Readers expecting a conventional mystery with clear resolution will likely be frustrated by:
- The lack of external validation: We rarely leave Vesta’s perspective, making it impossible to verify any of her perceptions or conclusions.
- The meandering pace: The middle section of the novel can feel repetitive as Vesta cycles through theories and suspicions.
- The ambiguous ending: The novel’s conclusion will likely divide readers between those who appreciate psychological ambiguity and those who prefer concrete answers.
- Limited character interactions: The few characters Vesta encounters remain cryptic and underdeveloped, though this is likely by design to reflect Vesta’s solipsistic worldview.
Some readers may find themselves impatient with Vesta’s spiraling thoughts, wishing for more external action to balance the intense interiority. However, this claustrophobic focus is clearly Moshfegh’s intention—we are meant to feel trapped in Vesta’s mind, just as she is trapped in her own isolation.
Literary Context: Moshfegh’s Evolution
“Death in Her Hands” represents both a continuation and departure from Moshfegh’s previous work. Like her earlier novels, it features a socially isolated female protagonist whose perception of reality is suspect. However, where “Eileen” and “My Year of Rest and Relaxation” maintained certain thriller and dark comedy elements respectively, “Death in Her Hands” veers more fully into experimental psychological territory.
The novel shares DNA with classic unreliable narrator tales like Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s “The Yellow Wallpaper” and more recent works like Samanta Schweblin’s “Fever Dream,” where the line between delusion and supernatural occurrence remains tantalizingly blurred. It also evokes the existential dread of Shirley Jackson’s work, particularly “We Have Always Lived in the Castle,” where isolated female protagonists construct elaborate internal worlds.
Thematic Richness: Beyond the Mystery
Despite its structural limitations, “Death in Her Hands” offers profound insights into several recurring themes:
The Construction of Reality
Vesta’s creation of the Magda mystery demonstrates how humans impose narrative on chaos to create meaning. When she fills out a character questionnaire for her imagined victim, we witness the arbitrary but powerful way people build reality through storytelling. The novel questions whether there’s a meaningful distinction between Vesta’s “imagined” mystery and the “real” world around her.
The Afterlife of Trauma
Through flashbacks and ruminations, Moshfegh reveals how Vesta’s domineering husband continues to haunt her thoughts long after his death. Walter’s controlling voice appears throughout the novel, criticizing and undermining Vesta’s perceptions. The novel suggests that psychological abuse leaves ghosts that can’t be exorcised simply by removing the abuser.
The Horror of Isolation
Perhaps most powerfully, “Death in Her Hands” explores how extreme isolation warps perception. Vesta’s only regular companion is her dog, Charlie, and her rare encounters with townspeople are awkward and stilted. Without the reality-checking function of human connection, her mind creates increasingly elaborate and paranoid narratives.
Stylistic Considerations
Moshfegh’s prose is, as always, precise and controlled even when depicting mental chaos. Her writing is characterized by:
- Clinical detachment: Even in moments of extreme emotion, there’s a cool, observational quality to the narration.
- Unsettling specificity: Mundane details—the consistency of a bagel, the smell of a shower curtain—take on ominous significance.
- Shifting registers: The language moves between philosophical rumination and blunt assessment, mirroring Vesta’s oscillating mental state.
- Circular reasoning: Vesta’s thought patterns loop back on themselves, creating a hypnotic but disorienting reading experience.
Final Assessment: A Challenging but Rewarding Read
“Death in Her Hands” is not Moshfegh’s most accessible work, nor is it likely to be her most beloved. Its deliberate frustration of mystery conventions, its relentless interiority, and its ambiguous conclusion will alienate some readers. The novel demands patience and a willingness to surrender to uncertainty.
However, for those willing to engage with its challenges, the novel offers a haunting exploration of how we construct reality in the face of emptiness. It’s less concerned with solving the mystery of Magda than with examining the mystery of Vesta herself—how a life of suppression under a domineering husband has left her simultaneously desperate for meaning and incapable of truthfully addressing her own history.
In its best moments, “Death in Her Hands” achieves a kind of terrible beauty, illuminating the lengths to which a lonely mind will go to create purpose and meaning. While not as immediately gripping as Moshfegh’s previous novels, it may be her most philosophically complex—a meditation on mortality, memory, and the stories we tell ourselves to survive.
- For fans of: Shirley Jackson’s “We Have Always Lived in the Castle,” Samanta Schweblin’s “Fever Dream,” Iain Reid’s “I’m Thinking of Ending Things”
- Recommended for: Readers who appreciate psychological fiction, unreliable narrators, and ambiguous endings; those interested in explorations of isolation and the construction of reality
- Not recommended for: Readers seeking a traditional murder mystery with clear resolution; those who prefer plot-driven narratives or extensive character interactions
