***  NEW YORK TIMES  100 NOTABLE BOOKS OF THE YEAR *** From the author of Heroic Measures (“Smart and funny and completely surprising . . . I loved every page” —Ann Patchett), Act of God (“A feat of literary magic”— Booklist ) and, with Amy Hempel, The Hand That Feeds You (“An unnerving, elegant page-turner” — Vanity Fair ), a spare, masterful novel. The place: central Florida. The situation: a sensational murder trial, set in a courthouse more Soviet than Le Corbusier; a rich, white teenage girl—a twin—on trial for murdering her toddler brother. Two of the jurors: Hannah, a married fifty-two-year-old former Rolling Stone and Interview Magazine photographer of rock stars and socialites (she began to photograph animals when she realized she saw people “as a species”), and Graham, a forty-one-year-old anatomy professor. Both are sequestered (she, juror C-2; he, F-17) along with the other jurors at the Econo Lodge off I-75. As the shocking and numbing details of the crime are revealed during a string of days and courtroom hours, and the nights play out in a series of court-financed meals at Outback Steak House (the state isn’t paying for their drinks) and Red Lobster, Hannah and Graham fall into a furtive affair, keeping their oath as jurors never to discuss the trial. During deliberations the lovers learn that they are on opposing sides of the case. Suddenly they look at one another through an altogether different lens, as things become more complicated . . . After the verdict, Hannah returns home to her much older husband, but the case ignites once again and Hannah’s “one last dalliance before she is too old” takes on profoundly personal and moral consequences as The Body in Question moves to its affecting, powerful, and surprising conclusion. New York Times Notable Books of 2019 NPR Favorite Books of 2019 Boston Globe Best Books of 2019 "[The] deft orchestration of absurdity and existential dread distinguishes Ciment's style. That's why the situation of Ciment's latest novel, The Body in Question, is so perfectly suited to her powers as a novelist ... incisive ... a profound story about mortality and the mysteries of human behavior ... smart and disturbing." --Maureen Corrigan, NPR "Stark and absorbing . . . scathingly funny . . . a smart, compact, refreshingly unsentimental exploration of the persistence of desire amid the fact of death." --Sam Sacks, The Wall Street Journal "Excellent . . . short and brisk, propelled by the suspense of multiple questions . . . deft and gripping." --Curtis Sittenfeld, The New York Times "Part love story, part whodunit, part coming-of-old-age tale. This honest, mature look atlife and love adds to a growing body of evidence leading to a decisive verdict: Ciment is an author well worth reading." -- Kirkus (StarredReview) "Ciment, a virtuoso of the situational novel, has created a hypnotizing, forked tale of trust and guilt, masks and doubling, lies and desire, life and death." -- Donna Seaman , Booklist "Stunningly concise . . . It's been a long time since a novel pulled me in right off the first page as Body did. It's a bravura performance, Ciment exercising almost flamboyant control of her material." -- EmilyDonaldson, The Globe and Mail "A fantastic rendering of female desire . . . Few writers can tackle the bedroom--or female libido . . . but Ciment is a master: in exquisitelyspare prose, she nails it." --Penelope Green, The New York Times JILL CIMENT was born in Montreal, Canada. She has received many grants and awards, among them a National Endowment for the Arts fellowship, two New York Foundation for the Arts fellowships, the Janet Heidinger Kafka Prize, and a Guggenheim fellowship. A professor at the University of Florida, she lives in Gainesville, Florida, and Brooklyn, New York. Excerpted from Part One "When that door opens, sign out. Say you’re taking a ciga­rette break,” he says. “I don’t smoke,” she says. “You don’t have to smoke, just sign out. If they call your number, ignore them.” Neither notices the door open. “A friend of mine got out just by saying he couldn’t sit under the words ‘In God We Trust,’ ” she says. Her number is called, C-2. “You have another angle?” she asks. “If one of the lawyers asks if you’ve ever been involved with an attorney, tell him he picked you up in a bar five years ago.” “You’re assuming the lawyer will be a man,” she says. “Tell her she picked you up in a Lowe’s five years ago. She had the power sander, you had the tool belt.” The second time her number is called, she rises reluctantly. “Hey,” he calls after her as she makes her way between the uneven rows of folding chairs. “Good luck.” C-2 is surprised to find the courtroom already in session. Everyone but the defendant, a girl in her late teens, looks up as C-2 takes the only empty chair in the jury box. The other five chairs are occupied by women of varying ages. Three sport flip-flops. One is