Somewhere between “fiction” and “nonfiction” sits the military veteran, pen and paper in hand, wondering why they lived while their friends died.
Lilliet Berne, the orphan turned courtesan turned opera star who serves as the protagonist of Alexander Chee’s 2016 novel, embodies the complicated interchange of power and weakness that accompanies a woman’s silence.
Natalia Ginzburg’s 1963 novel is a record of a lost world and a lost way of life. Its insistently domestic narrative style, in its humanizing particularity, is also an act of resistance against the ascendant totalitarian ideologies looming over its characters’ lives.
Edith Maud and Winnifred Eaton, sisters from the turn of the century, dealt with racial ambiguity throughout their lives, learning to navigate how others interpreted them in vastly different ways.
Yan Lianke’s new novel asks: Are we dreamwalking through our entire lives?
Sotelo's poems pull together the mythological and the mundane to synthesize a direct line of communication between the Greek mythological Ariadne and the various personae that inhabit these pages.
Reading Wittig as abstract (and using abstract as a means of being subtly anti-feminist) is misreading her: her whole point is to restore the body within the text.
This year, I learned that the emotional background to William Goldman’s famous novel is fictional.
Wendy Guerra, award-winning poet, novelist, actress, and television host, tackles surveillance, paranoia, and the instability of reality in her second novel translated into English.
As I’ve read more Buddhist biographies and memoirs, I’ve begun to notice how women seeking spiritual meaning have been forced to endure the added burden of their gender.