Gonçalo M. Tavares (Does the M stand for Man? Maniac? Master? Certainly not anything as common as Manuel . . .) is a writer that trades in oppositions. And business is good.
It is this instability, this dance between beauty and horror, fear and elation, and this delicate navigation of power, which can turn one into the other, that animates Antonio Ungar’s singular, captivating novel.
Andrei Bitov describes his book "The Symmetry Teacher" as a “novel-echo,” a palimpsest of a text which, as he explains in his preface, is his Russian “translation” of an obscure and untraceable English novel by a writer called A. Tired-Boffin.
Dorothy Tse’s third book, "Snow and Shadow," is a collection of surreal stories set in a fantastical version of Hong Kong.
In each of her five short stories, Nettel places humans under the microscope and examines them at their most fragile and desperate.
The result is a frenetic portrait of the United States that he assembles bit by bit, fragment by fragment.
Steeped in broad cross-cultural influences from traditional jazz to Guillaume Apollinaire, Harding masterfully crafts vision and music into free verse.
With the English publication this month of Bohumil Hrabal’s "Harlequin’s Millions" and Jáchym Topol’s "Nightwork," it’s Vánoce (“Christmas”) for fans of Czech literature.
The author’s urgency to finish "La Grande" is palpable in the anxious prose.
"Talking to Ourselves" considers our defenses against loss—it sees language and its arguable opposite, sex, as both weapons against and records of the inevitable.
The story unsettles from the outset, as we are immediately plunged into the protagonist’s turbulent inner world.
A Fairy Tale starts with a young boy, his father, and the political assassination of Swedish Prime Minister Olof Palme.
To the average Westerner, reared on crisp autumn breezes and revitalizing spring air, Beijing’s tianqi, its weather, is a surreal departure.
Hassan Blasim's Iraq is a debased and deadly place
Walsh was sitting in a café when a man approached him and said cryptically: “One of the executed men is alive.”
Shiskin pushes us to the realization that we are part of the book that we are reading, and that the book we are reading is part of us.
Franck’s story is engrossing—immediately, completely.
"Leapfrog & Other Stories" is the last of what’s left of the Cuban writer Guillermo Rosales.
There is an inevitable period of adjustment when reading the work of Robert Walser.