Thirii Myo Kyaw Myint’s new memoir is a poetic love letter to the people who make us who we are, and a reminder of the difficulty some face to find one’s way home.
Matthew Specktor’s memoir is an intimate investigation of one man’s imperfect life.
Using the strengths of the graphic medium, Kristen Radtke conveys how loneliness feels by portraying what it looks like.
De Waal pays homage to delicate, restrained elegance of good style, a kind of style that requires keen perception, artisanal knowledge, and sensitivity.
For Schwarzenbach, travel is more than geographical—it’s a psychological and introspective undertaking, as well as an intimate metaphor of living and becoming, especially for an androgynous woman who breaks boundaries and social taboos.
By daring to call forth the irrealis mood, to summon what we usually skitter around and stumble upon, Aciman sets the mood—incurring the awkwardness of doing so, and giving us the chance to realize something it might take a long time to understand.
Dubravka Ugrešić a formidable and unique cultural critic. She demands that we see deeper, even where we refuse to look.
Elisa Gabbert’s new essay collection is both an examination of conscience and a cataloging of modern American anxiety. It touches our pressure points with the intention of helping us identify sources of pain in our own lives.
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.
Bolina’s collection explores the complicated ground of being “of color,” being an immigrant, being American, and being human with an admirable fluency. He entrusts us with an honest conversation—one that we should all be having with one other.