An ill-fated expedition entangles the protagonist of Fernando A. Flores’ new novel in a powerful syndicate whose tentacles of influence sprawl in all directions, and whose sinister and audacious ambitions materialize a trufflepig with the body of a pig, the hide of a crocodile, and the beak of an
There is pleasure to be had in reading Julia Phillips’ debut novel, even in the midst of such grief and despair. Phillips is a beautiful, assured writer, one who knows how to create fully-developed characters, a marvelous sense of place, and a constant forward momentum.
In Ma Jian’s new novel, the traumatic dream is one where “the past and the present form a tangled web from which it becomes impossible to break free.”
To read a book by Ali Smith is to know that she will ask you to do some work, though that work will always be a pleasure and a bit of a game.
The South, to Emily Pease, is “beautiful and memory-rich, with a layer of dark.” The same could be said about her stories, though the layer of dark within is thick and permeates the whole—like the heat on an August day in the South, nothing is left untouched by it.
Tanguy Viel’s new novel is not about poetic justice, but artifice.
Irina Reyn’s new novel begins in the middle of a complex history: Nadia Borodinskaya, a single mother, has been working tirelessly in the United States for the last seven years to bring her adult-aged daughter, Larisska, from war-torn Ukraine.
From a city ensconced in massive treetops where no children are ever born, to a black market for human remains literally underground, Marlon James leads readers on a journey through an Africa western fantasy has long ignored.
Niviaq Korneliussen’s novel is short, only around two hundred pages, but it moves like a bullet: powerful, emotionally dense, and over much more quickly than I wanted it to be.
Mackintosh’s characters offer a representation of how young women deal with grief once a familial structure is undone, in the way of filling empty spaces that begin to present themselves.