Lily Meyer

Books from writers Álvaro Enrigue, Simone Atangana Bekono, and Kiyoko Murata may not come from the same place — but they still work in conversation with each other.

It is easy to act as if fiction and history were separate. But they cannot be completely divided. Jenny Erpenbeck's Kairos and Oksana Lutsyshyna's Ivan and Phoebe help readers connect with time past.

The Enlightenment of Katzuo Nakamatsu, The House on Via Gemito, and Cousins together form a tour of human darkness where liberation comes in many forms.

AI may be the topic du jour, but for now only a human can read attentively and sensitively enough to genuinely recreate literature in a new language, as translators have done with these three works.

Concerning My Daughter, Hugs and Cuddles and Freeway: La Movie do not pretend to be easy reads, yet they are all completely consuming.

Iraqi poet Faleeha Hassan's memoir War and Me, Mexican novelist Brenda Lozano's Witches, and Uyghur novelist and social critic Perhat Tursun's The Backstreets have a few broad commonalities.

Mutt-Lon's The Blunder, Pina by Titaua Peu, and Thuận's Chinatown all come from different continents and deal, glancingly or in depth, with French colonialism.

Though Susan Williams' book is framed far too expansively, it overflows with fascinating information, research and bold ideas — especially regarding Congo's first prime minister, Patrice Lumumba.

Klay won acclaim for his debut story collection Redeployment, about the experiences of soldiers. His long awaited novel looks at how America has developed and exported the idea of a war on terror.

Burnout, Anne Helen Petersen argues, will end only with sweeping labor-policy changes — meaning it will end only when we "vote en masse to elect politicians who will agitate for [reform] tirelessly."