This week, If Beale Street Could Talk and Riot Baby, two stories, 46 years apart, about young Black men imprisoned, a disturbingly perennial theme
Pessoa was that modernist type: a tiny man with a limited social life and an unfathomably rich and grandiose imaginary one.
Jane Bowles only wrote one play. Like her one novel, In The Summer House is a strange tale of eccentric women and the ways their eccentricities set the course for the weaker-willed people around them.
The Bowles series continues with Paul’s 1955 novel about the Moroccan independence movement and the struggles of ordinary people to keep a corner of their souls free of political power struggles.
A debut novel that feels a bit like a rupture, not quite like anything that came before it, but marking a great deal that came afterwards. In The Sheltering Sky, Paul Bowles left all sentiment to die in the desert.
“Perry is definitely a writer. His essays are meandering and misshapen, slippery and jagged, they wriggle and bite. But, read them for a bit, sit with them and get to know them, and you find they’re also gentle and wise. I mean, it’s a bit hard to get a bead on them, but that’s how identity is, right?”
On the end of grief, and James Baldwin’s classic story of grief at the beginning and end of first love.
J.D. Wilkes’s debut novel packs every Southern myth and legend into one epic, rollicking fricasseed Odyssey. Let’s call it Southern Gothabilly.
By subverting her narrative multiple times and in many different ways, the memoirist gives a good idea of the disorientation and terror of an abusive relationship.
A great and complicated story about an unhappy family where every member is unhappy in their own way.
Music writing as autobiography, poetry, & survival. Seriously, read “They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us” by Hanif Abdurraqib right the hell now.