Cusk's new novel is worth reading for its sharp descriptions and powerful story alone, but it’s the in-depth exploration of the purpose of art that makes the story meaningful.
Atleework’s memoir is steeped in her passion for California’s Owens Valley and her striking observations. It reveals a life defined by an absence, and Atleework points us to the power in this understanding.
E.M. Forster’s novel is deeply concerned with compactly contained relationships, as well as the ideas and spaces that forge these connections. Zadie Smith’s modern-day retelling explores similarly contained personal relationships with a significant update: the book is set on a college campus.
In Miranda Popkey’s debut novel, conversation has the power to shape the story of a life.
Haunted houses are liminal spaces by design, the boundary between life and afterlife blurred and the line between truth and imagination called into question within. But the most effective haunted houses in literature blur even more lines—between past and present, and memory and reality.
The characters of Lara Williams’ and Margaret Atwood’s novels learn, eventually, to treat their love of food as a gift.
By comparing a selfie to a hotel that stands tall and decadent in the cultural imagination, Lara Williams draws connections between the subtle themes of mapping, ownership, and value present in both her story and F. Scott Fitzgerald’s of a similar name—“The Diamond as Big as the Ritz.”
Wordless acts of love that help alleviate pain, the intensity of conversations that build relationships, the depth of feelings that complicate them—Rooney makes it clear that such meaningful silences aren’t captured by the texts, emails, and messages in digital communication.