Reviews Archives - Page 2 of 85 - The Millions
February 22, 2017
The characters in Homesick for Another World violate and are violated in turn; they are sick in every sense, and sick of this world.
February 17, 2017
Scalise aligns himself with many other writers of illness narratives who understand that, although their disease may be horrible, it also confers a sense of uniqueness and individuality on the sufferer, at least temporarily.
February 13, 2017
Reading Lincoln in the Bardo is its own kind of bardo.
February 9, 2017
Both narratives are works of fantasy, firmly rooted in Gaiman’s American Gods universe, but the most profound difference is their emphasis within this genre: the combination of fantasy with horror in The Monarch of the Glen and fantasy with mystery in Black Dog.
February 9, 2017
Gass began writing the story “to entertain a toothache.” That’s an appropriate anecdote. A philosopher by training and a critic by practice, Gass has always been in love with language. Words are his God.
February 8, 2017
Sajad is unsettlingly blunt about the brutality of army personnel in Srinagar, doing away with the idealism that mars debates in suburban Indian homes, often shaped by news channels, where sensationalists run amok, and Bollywood, which would rather engage in melodrama and merrymaking.
February 2, 2017
by Sarah Stone
The story returns to its most painful material and plunges us into a moment-by-moment experience of the self-delusions, complicity, and failures of nerve and understanding that lead to disaster.
January 30, 2017
In spite of Foer’s issues, in spite of the flaws wounding Here I Am, in spite of the fact that it’s at least 100 pages longer than it needs to be, when I closed the book for the last time, I was genuinely moved.
January 18, 2017
George’s frank dystopias do not rely on beauty or brutality or humanistic appeals to sell themselves. Just a vision and a ghoulish sense of humor.
January 17, 2017
The peripheral narrative construction of Transit — the feints and evasions and elisions — is finally peripheral to the central pleasure: spending time with the book’s animating intelligence.