Craft, in Ali Smith’s hand, is malleable. It produces meaning that is disparate from the terms and antecedents of its making.
DeMisty D. Bellinger’s new novel beautifully showcases the way history endures within us, and how while someone else’s past may influence our present moment, we still have agency.
Kate Folk’s narrative voice makes even the strangest, most self-destructive desires seem reasonable. Her stories exist between the strange and the familiar, and the ambivalence that characters feel about what they’re doing or what’s happening to them makes them feel all the more real.
The natural world is a member of the found family of Friedman's protagonist, and a character she gets to know over the course of the novel. As the world around her is collapsing, she is left to address what still matters.
Elaine Hsieh Chou’s debut is not only an outrageously enjoyable academic mystery, but also a moving portrayal of self-discovery.
Irene Solà reveals the beauty and brutality of life in a mountain village that holds the scars of the past, but also the seeds of slow repair and renewal.
Ella Baxter’s debut novel is a raw, unflinching look at the aftermath of grief.
Each story feels like a potential episode of Black Mirror, exploring futuristic technology and the dangerous hold it has on all of us. Fu present us with the following question: while technology has added many conveniences to our lives, should we accept it? Should we push back for the
Claudia Durastanti’s English debut is a flame held up to the inexpressible self.
In Saša Stanišić’s impressive and touching novel, digressions are the journey, as we too move through make-your-own-adventure lives, in which where you are from, and even where you are going, are of transient import.