Why literary novels about wrenching events are taking more and more cues from crime writing
The late philosopher Richard Wollheim can teach many of us valuable lessons about how to face the fear of returning to outside life.
In a time of Zoom lectures and distracted students, a new book champions an underappreciated state of being.
For those engaging in quick-response art, mess and chaos—not polished elegance—are the forms to best mimic a crisis that has no end in sight.
Two recent novels cannily use all-girls-campus settings to create worlds that feel women-focused but prove to be the reverse.
Dexter Palmer’s third novel, about a fantastical medical hoax, doubles as an exploration of the age-old desire to believe the unbelievable.
Caitlin Horrocks’s debut novel builds on a rich tradition of women writers who complicate the myth of male virtuosity until it crumbles.
Two ambitious new novels build techno-futures in which surveillance offers disturbing new threats.
In the late ’70s, Carolyn Forché traveled to El Salvador on the eve of its civil war, knowing little about the country. Crucially, she understood how little she knew.
Chloe Aridjis’s Sea Monsters doesn’t care much for plot, instead seductively gathering energy through images, repetition, and metaphor.
Carol Bensimon’s We All Loved Cowboys features a difficult protagonist whose myopia belies the wide, complex world outside her car window.