The one of my recent IR books is Death in Her Hands, by Otessa Moshfegh. This book is narrated by an elderly widow, who tends to over-speculate. While walking her dog in the woods near her cabin, she finds an ominous note that indicates a dead body named Magda, and that whoever wrote the note did not do it, and that no one will ever know who did. The main issue is that there is no body, and the note leaves much to the imagination. This starts our narrator on an investigation, guided largely by speculation and presumption.
“Whoever had written the note understood that by masking one’s peculiarities, one invokes authority. There is nothing is imposing as anonymity. But the words themselves, when I spoke them aloud, seemed witty, a rare quality in Levant, where most people were blue-collar and dull. I read the note again and almost chuckled over that penultimate line, It wasn’t me. Of course it wasn’t.” p.3
I really enjoy this quote because it gives an interesting look into the narrator’s mind, showing quickly how she thinks. There is rarely any dialogue in the book, as majority of it is our narrator’s thoughts, but it never felt long-winded or tedious, which I really enjoyed.