Calling for a Blanket Dance stitches an intergenerational quilt of rich themes: gift-giving, second chances, reclaiming culture, family loyalty, and the indelible search for a home.
Fuminori Nakamura’s neo-noir The Gun picks apart the mental machinery of a potential shooter and puts him back together, piece by piece, to identify the fatal components.
Ling Ma’s short story collection, Bliss Montage, brilliantly explores the absurdity and alienation of living under late-stage capitalism.
Jennifer Egan’s The Candy House is an EDM concert, a prestige drama, a mind palace – and a warning.
Ariel Delgado Dixon’s compulsively readable debut novel, Don’t Say We Didn’t Warn You, explores what it means to cope with a shared, painful past.
With its film adaptation releasing this summer, the best-seller Where the Crawdads Sing calls a reader to open themselves to places and people on the edge.
In Call Me Cassandra, Marcial Gala dismantles the suffocating binary of unyielding machismo in pre- and post-revolutionary Cuba.
Missouri Williams’ ‘The Doloriad’ is a perverse tale of human remnants scratching out a bare survival like a lone pine twisting out of a stony cliff.
In ‘Chilean Poet’, Alejandro Zambra reaches the sublime through descriptions of everyday routine amongst family members – however they describe themselves.
In Don DeLillo’s The Silence, it is much like our post-pandemic life – everything changed but nothing happened. Are we listening?
Kunzru excels in capturing the geist in alt-right circles in his latest work, Red Pill, from the callous philosophy down to the very language.
Lee Martin's Yours, Jean is a perfectly balanced and heartbreaking mix of true crime narrative and literary fiction.
