Ottessa Moshfegh’s “Lapvona” presents us with a medieval fiefdom where humanity’s worst instincts are laid bare in unflinching detail. As her fourth novel, following acclaimed works like “Eileen,” “Homesick for Another World,” “My Year of Rest and Relaxation,” and “Death in Her Hands,” Moshfegh ventures into new territory with this historical fantasy that reads like a fever dream soaked in mud, blood, and human depravity. “Lapvona” is a challenging book that will disturb readers with its brutality while compelling them forward with hypnotic prose and startling imagery.
The Twisted World of Lapvona
Set across the four seasons in a medieval village, “Lapvona” by Ottessa Moshfegh centers on Marek, a physically deformed and emotionally abused boy raised by his father Jude, a shepherd who has convinced the boy that his mother died in childbirth. Marek’s only comfort comes from Ina, the blind village wet nurse who once suckled him and continues to let him nurse at her withered breasts well into his adolescence.
The power structure of Lapvona revolves around Lord Villiam, a grotesquely infantile nobleman who lives in luxury on the hill above the village, attended by Father Barnabas, a priest who lacks any genuine faith but keeps the villagers in line through fear and superstition. When a moment of violence brings Marek into Villiam’s household, the delicate balance of this feudal microcosm begins to unravel, particularly as a devastating drought tests the villagers’ limits of morality and survival.
Strengths: Unflinching Examination of Power and Depravity
Ottessa Moshfegh’s greatest achievement in “Lapvona” is her unflinching examination of how power corrupts and how the powerful manipulate the faithful. The relationship between Villiam and Father Barnabas perfectly illustrates how religion can become a tool of oppression rather than salvation. Barnabas creates theological justifications for whatever serves Villiam’s interests, including hoarding water during the drought while the villagers below die of thirst.
The prose is consistently stellar, with Moshfegh crafting sentences that are both beautiful and horrifying:
“Jude had eaten only lamb’s milk, bread, apples and potatoes, and wild grasses his entire life. Like the rest of Lapvona, he didn’t eat meat. Nor did he drink mead, only milk and water. Marek ate what Jude ate, always saving a few bites for God: he knew that sacrifice was the best way to please Him.”
These idyllic, almost pastoral descriptions exist in stark contrast to the violence, sexual abuse, and cannibalism that emerge as the novel progresses.
Challenging Elements: Gratuitous Horror and Underdeveloped Characters
The relentless brutality of “Lapvona” by Ottessa Moshfegh often feels excessive. While medieval life was certainly harsh, Moshfegh seems to delight in piling on horrors until they border on the cartoonish. A drought leads to starvation, which leads to cannibalism, incest, and every other taboo imaginable. The novel often reads like a catalog of the worst things humans can do to one another, presented with such matter-of-factness that it risks desensitizing the reader.
The characters, while vivid, rarely transcend their roles as vehicles for suffering or inflicting pain. Marek remains a cipher despite being our central figure, defined primarily by his deformities and abuse. Even when he ascends to power by the novel’s end, his interior life remains largely unexplored. Similarly, characters like Villiam are so cartoonishly evil that they sometimes feel like medieval caricatures rather than complex individuals.
The Body and Its Discontents
One of Ottessa Moshfegh’s preoccupations across her work has been the human body—its fluids, functions, and failures—and “Lapvona” continues this tradition with a medieval twist. Bodies are sites of violence and violation throughout the novel:
Marek’s deformed body, twisted and hunched, mirrors his twisted relationship with his father
Ina’s blind eyes that periodically regain sight after nursing
Villiam’s thin, bony frame that consumes endlessly without gaining weight
The mutilation of bodies during the drought, including cannibalism
The nursing relationship between Ina and various characters (including adult men) becomes a central motif, representing both comfort and perversion. These bodily preoccupations give the novel a visceral quality that’s impossible to ignore, though they sometimes overshadow character development and narrative momentum.
Faith, Power, and Survival
“Lapvona” by Ottessa Moshfegh presents a complex view of faith and religion. On one hand, the institutional church represented by Father Barnabas is entirely corrupt, using religion to keep the villagers subordinate. On the other hand, characters like Ina represent a more primordial spirituality connected to nature and the body.
The novel asks difficult questions about what people will do to survive and what they’re willing to believe to make sense of their suffering. When Villiam hoards water during the drought while telling the villagers that the Devil has escaped from hell and dried up the earth, we see how readily people accept convenient lies that absolve the powerful of responsibility.
Comparative Context: Moshfegh’s Evolution
“Lapvona” represents a significant departure from Ottessa Moshfegh’s previous work while maintaining her signature themes. Unlike the contemporary settings of “Eileen” or “My Year of Rest and Relaxation,” this medieval fantasy allows her to explore power dynamics and bodily abjection in a more extreme context.
Fans of her earlier work will recognize her fascination with the grotesque and her dark humor, but may be surprised by the novel’s historical setting and ensemble cast. While “My Year of Rest and Relaxation” examined one woman’s attempt to sleep through modern existence, “Lapvona” shows an entire village unable to escape the brutality of medieval life.
The novel bears comparison to other works that examine medieval power structures through a contemporary lens:
Hilary Mantel’s historical fiction, though with less psychological depth
The brutality of Cormac McCarthy’s “Blood Meridian” in a medieval setting
The religious horror of films like “The Witch” by Robert Eggers
Structural and Stylistic Considerations
Organized by seasons, the novel’s structure creates a natural progression from spring’s false promise through summer’s devastating drought to winter’s harshness and back to spring. This cyclical structure suggests the inescapability of suffering and the persistence of corrupt power structures.
Moshfegh’s prose maintains a detached, almost clinical tone even when describing the most horrific events. This narrative distance creates a disturbing effect, presenting violence and perversion as simply part of the natural order rather than exceptional events:
“Jude had not eaten Klim yet. He had, however, chopped dead trees outside Ina’s cabin and built a fire in her hearth, then stood, sweating and licking the sweat off his arms from thirst as he waited for Ina to change her mind.”
This matter-of-fact description of preparing to cook a dead villager exemplifies how Moshfegh normalizes horror throughout the novel.
Final Assessment: Brilliant but Difficult
“Lapvona” by Ottessa Moshfegh is a challenging novel that will divide readers. Its strengths include:
Unflinching examination of power and corruption
Stunning prose that creates a vividly realized medieval world
Bold exploration of taboo subjects
Creative reimagining of medieval life and faith
Its weaknesses include:
Relentless brutality that occasionally feels gratuitous
Characters that sometimes function more as symbols than fully realized individuals
A narrative that sometimes meanders without clear purpose
A resolution that may leave readers unsatisfied
At its best, “Lapvona” by Ottessa Moshfegh serves as a dark mirror reflecting our own world’s inequalities and the ways faith can be manipulated to serve power. At its worst, it’s a catalog of medieval horrors that risks reducing human suffering to shock value.
For Whom Is This Novel?
“Lapvona” by Ottessa Moshfegh is decidedly not for everyone. Readers should approach with caution if they’re sensitive to descriptions of:
Physical and sexual abuse
Cannibalism and extreme violence
Religious corruption
Bodily functions and fluids
The ideal reader for “Lapvona” is one who appreciates literary fiction that challenges conventional morality and isn’t afraid to explore the darkest aspects of human nature. Fans of authors like Flannery O’Connor, Cormac McCarthy, or William Faulkner may find much to appreciate in Moshfegh’s medieval nightmare.
Conclusion: A Bold Artistic Statement
Despite its flaws, “Lapvona” by Ottessa Moshfegh represents a bold artistic statement from a writer unafraid to push boundaries. Moshfegh has created a medieval world that feels both historically distant and uncomfortably relevant to our own time of economic inequality and religious manipulation. The novel doesn’t offer easy answers or moral clarity—instead, it forces readers to confront uncomfortable truths about power, faith, and survival.
While not Moshfegh’s most accessible work, “Lapvona” further establishes her as one of contemporary literature’s most fearless and original voices. It’s a novel that will haunt readers long after they’ve finished its final pages, though whether that haunting represents profound insight or merely shock value will largely depend on the individual reader’s tolerance for literary brutality.
For those willing to journey through its darkness, “Lapvona” offers a disturbing but undeniably powerful reading experience that asks profound questions about what it means to be human in a world where power and faith so often corrupt rather than elevate.