The Western Wind turns out to be a beautifully written novel, a serious book of great depth, intention, and craft.
One of the fears of poets and, I imagine, all writers, is that you’ll reach a certain age and you’ll run out of gas.
Convenience Store Woman is an achievement — a satiric look at a mind that is intent on remaining empty.
Perhaps in the future Michelle Hoover will let her very real talent take her into the unknown, where narrative and myth merge.
Liberty’s First Crisis presents reminders that elected officials have always been capable of uncivilized behavior toward their colleagues.
Jim Harrison’s prose is gorgeous, illuminating. The simple language slides into your head and resonates there.
Death By Water plumbs the depths of the human condition in an entirely original way.
Echo’s Bones is a fascinating immersion, somewhat inept in its means, but sincere and gravely serious, in a subject that Samuel Beckett made increasingly his own.
Given all the terror and brutality we have lived through just in the thirteen years of this new, 21st century, the story of people running drugs back in the ’70s doesn’t seem to have much urgency.
By Bill Marx In English, Polish novelist, playwright, short story writer, and brazen, metaphysical gadfly Witold Gombrowicz remains under appreciated, a modernist who was never pulled into the highbrow bandwagon. Part of that neglect is thanks to bad translations that, in some cases, bowdlerized the Polish text or were translated from a French version of […]