The Fan Who Knew Too Much is a fine collection, but it's chiefly notable for one essay..."The Children and Their Secret Closet,"...
This cri de coeur, which appears in a letter to her estranged daughter and grandchildren, suggests that Bornstein has made real sacrifices to follow her own advice, and can therefore dispense it with integrity.
The only bad thing is that it felt too short. (Gasp!) I wanted more of Melissa and more of Kelly. I actually want a grown-up Melissa. Or maybe a book for her middle school life and one for her high school life. That’d be cool.
In this luminous memoir, novelist Norman (The Bird Artist) recalls moments of “arresting strangeness,” even in the midst of his quest to gain clarity and stay balanced emotionally.
Meticulous pacing and finely nuanced characters underpin the author's gift for affecting prose that illuminates the struggles within relationships.
A beautifully written, at times lyrical, study of a disintegrating community. Roy, author of the Edgar Award-winning mystery Bent Road (2011), tackles similar themes here with equally successful results.
Als’s careful read on Capote doubles as a mind-popping take on white girls generally. He exposes the funny and calculated fissures that can open between the white-girl self we’re shown and the white-girl self we cannot know...
So successful are these elements that the overdetermined, even trite conclusion will probably strike readers as a minor bump in the road. Here’s a narrative experience readers won’t soon forget.
Like the rest of this book, this poem is in turns witty, familiar, vague, surprising in its structure and grace, atonal, juxtaposed, forced, willfully oblique, literate, silly, and wise.
...Nelson’s book does the opposite. Like the Argo, her ship’s been renewed, and her voyage continues.
Robinson is adept at studying the small print and reading between the lines but she never forgets to look up at the stars.
The volume will have particular appeal to readers of gender studies, but these stories ultimately prove that true partnership is gender blind.
This is a repeat for a novel we reported last March (see P. 125). We liked it then; we like it still. Literary Guild choice for September, it should go farther than the usual first novel.
This novel, which includes not just real people but their emails and transcribed conversations, and dangles itself precariously somewhere between "real life" and "art" is, in the end, a meditation on ugliness rather than beauty...
A rousing labor of love by a major contemporary author, Kavalier & Clay reveals that sometimes the horrors generated by popular artists can both reflect and ricochet.
This collection of essays bears witness to a truly great, searingly unique, and ultimately tragic American voice.
This book is beautifully crafted and written with understanding for those people who have disabilities. The description and the story are well thought out and there are parts that make you cry and parts that make you laugh.
Colm Tóibín's mothers don't always behave as they should; they are often unpredictable, occasionally downright troublesome, prone to gusts of passion or rage or – worse – unnatural indifference.
The author's continuous low-key humor infuses the memoir with refreshing levity, without diminishing the emotional toll of being the sole health-care provider to an elderly parent. This is an emotionally honest portrayal of a son's secrets and his unending devotion to his mother.
But if you aren’t moved by “Becoming Nicole,” I’d suggest there’s a lump of dark matter where your heart should be.