Our 51 Favorite Books of 2025

  • November 24, 2025

Gaze down from on high and declare certain books “the best”? Never! Instead, here are the titles that especially stuck with us this year. We hope you enjoy them as much as we did!

Our 51 Favorite Books of 2025

We Lived on the Horizon: A Novel by Erika Swyler (Atria Books). Reviewed by Mariko Hewer. “The seemingly disparate events that tie the three women and the AI Nix together will eventually require them to make decisions fraught with pain, love, fear, and desire. Through it all, Swyler’s slow burn of a story continues to ask challenging, unanswerable questions about what it means to be human and what it means to evolve.”

Embers of the Hands: Hidden Histories of the Viking Age by Eleanor Barraclough (W.W. Norton & Company). Reviewed by Anne Cassidy. “Barraclough, a professor of environmental history at Bath Spa University in England, makes the past come alive in this fact-filled volume. She introduces us not just to the Vikings of raids and longships but also of combs, toys, game pieces, and other ephemera of ordinary lives — the ‘embers of the hands’ she celebrates in the book’s title, the ‘glowing remnants that survive when the bright flame of a life has vanished.’”

The First and Last King of Haiti: The Rise and Fall of Henry Christophe by Marlene L. Daut (Knopf). Reviewed by Peggy Kurkowski. “The Shakespearean drama of Haitian revolutionary Henry Christophe’s life is revealed in all its glorious color and complexity in Marlene L. Daut’s superb The First and Last King of Haiti. A product of more than a decade of research, this stout biography is a shimmering synthesis of his life within the rebellious milieu of Saint-Domingue/Haiti in the late 18th and early 19th centuries.”

The Cannibal Owl: A Novella by Aaron Gwyn (Belle Point Press). Reviewed by Holly Smith. “Reading a good novella can feel like overhearing an unexpectedly powerful snippet of conversation: It flies past quickly, but you find yourself still turning it over in your mind days or even weeks later. Aaron Gwyn’s The Cannibal Owl is a good novella. Set in early 1800s Texas — and based loosely on the childhood experience of the real-life Levi English — the story’s brevity belies its depth. This one is going to stay with you.”

Black in Blues: How a Color Tells the Story of My People by Imani Perry (Ecco). Reviewed by Sarah Trembath. “Her storytelling is concise but moves with the fluidity of poetic prose, never straying from what I see as her purpose: portraying Black people during unimaginably oppressive times in ways that allow them to ‘mark themselves as individuals [who were] able to bring some joy and laughter and delight in the day-to-day [along with] the ability to hope.’”

Theory & Practice: A Novel by Michelle de Kretser (Catapult). Reviewed by Carr Harkrader. “In a less-skilled writer, this all could be overwrought. But de Kretser has crafted a resonant voice that propels the story forward; the narrative somehow maintains immediacy throughout. Form clearly matters to the author, too. Indeed, Theory & Practice begins as a whole other novel, following a young Australian man traveling through Switzerland. When our narrator finally interjects and shares her disappointment at what she’s written so far, the reader is forced into awareness about revelatory cracks that will continue to shake the foundation of the rest of the book.”

Where the Bones Lie by Nick Kolakowski (Datura Books). Reviewed by Terry Zobeck. “Kolakowski mixes these standard ingredients into a satisfying blend that keeps the reader turning the pages. Mostly, this is due to the engaging lead characters, the pacing, and some snappy dialogue. Adding to the atmosphere are frequent references to the wildfires that threaten much of Southern California (and that play a major role in the story’s climax). Certainly, Kolakowski didn’t have time to revise the book in the two months prior to its publication to incorporate horrendous recent events, but it sure is timely. Where the Bones Lie ends with an indication that there may be further adventures for Dash Fuller. I certainly hope so.”

Rot: An Imperial History of the Irish Famine by Padraic X. Scanlan (Basic Books). Reviewed by Bob Duffy. “Professor Scanlan makes the case against British management of the famine with a torrent of brilliantly researched facts. With its stunning wealth of argumentation, Rot delivers a knockout punch.”

 

Human/Animal: A Bestiary in Essays by Amie Souza Reilly (Wilfrid Laurier University Press). Reviewed by Yelizaveta P. Renfro. “She is interested not in the noun but in the verb form of common animal words — for example, to badger, to ape, to parrot, to squirrel, to fish, to ferret, and so forth — exploring how such usages say a great deal more about humans than they do about the animals from which they derive.”

Homestand: Small Town Baseball and the Fight for the Soul of America by Will Bardenwerper (Doubleday). Reviewed by Randy Cepuch. “Nobody’s getting rich on baseball in Batavia, in financial terms. But many lives are richer, the author concludes, because it’s still possible to sit in the stands with friends and neighbors and watch a game unfold on a hot summer night, munching on popcorn sold by a local furniture maker and sipping beer from a nearby brewery.”

Starlings: The Curious Odyssey of a Most Hated Bird by Mike Stark (Bison Books). Reviewed by Julie Dunlap. “The odyssey in Starlings encompasses more than a century of avian trials and triumphs. The perils starlings face and the wonders they inspire earn them their role as epic heroes in Stark’s thought-provoking tale. Balanced and reflective, Starlings calls on readers to challenge their prejudices and misconceptions of one noisy three-ounce blackbird, a vital step in our own journey to recast the meaning of belonging on a chaotic and increasingly violent Earth.”

When the World Explodes: Essays by Amy Lee Scott (Mad Creek Books). Reviewed by Alice Stephens. “By writing about her most harrowing moments, Scott seeks to make sense of a life that can hold so much pain and so much joy. ‘There is something to this telling of stories, this constant constellating, this remembering,’ she explains. ‘Telling stories in order to remember gives the brain a certain flexibility, a forgiving adaptability.’ In her essays, Scott is claiming her own narrative, healing herself, and offering her vulnerability to others so that they may know they are not alone.”

The Dry Season: A Memoir of Pleasure in a Year Without Sex by Melissa Febos (Knopf). Reviewed by Jennifer Bort Yacovissi. “What is it about Febos’ writing that I find so compelling? In this instance, maybe it’s the juxtaposition of memoir as academic dissertation with memoir as blunt can we talk? observations (e.g., ‘This is why it’s easy to mistake some women who have gone through menopause for lesbians; they have both stopped giving a fuck what men think about them’). Perhaps it’s just that she really knows how to frame and tell a story. Whatever it is, I’m ready to read whatever comes next.”

Beasts by Ingvild Bjerkeland; translated by Rosie Hedger (Levine Querido). Reviewed by Priyanka Champaneri. “The siblings anchor the book, and their emotional journey is as riveting as the physical one. Small and feisty Alva brings much-needed levity to scenes where she chatters away at top speed or proclaims she will never eat sushi, no matter how starved she is. She is also Abdi’s guiding star. ‘Alva was my responsibility now,’ he says. ‘I had to look after her; I had to make sure she had whatever she needed to survive.’”

One Day, Everyone Will Have Always Been Against This by Omar El Akkad (Knopf). Reviewed by Sarah Trembath. “Every time I review a book, I ask myself, ‘Who is this for?’ I first wrap my head around its intended audience, and then I can assess how well the book did what it wanted to do. As I got into Omar El Akkad’s One Day, Everyone Will Have Always Been Against This — savoring his gorgeous prose as if each utterance was a delicacy of words, feeling each page as one might feel any other painful thing one needs — it occurred to me: This book is for me. It is a pristine lamentation, a mirror, and — for humanitarian activists of the literary type — an amplification of our cry written by a lauded journalist far more eloquent than most and deeply committed to the sanctity of human life.”

Mark Twain by Ron Chernow (Penguin Press). Reviewed by Karl Straub. “The man lives on in the pages of Mark Twain, his contradictions intact, and Chernow brings him to life with empathy but not indulgence. It’s the book Twain deserves and also the book deserved by both his fans and his detractors. Twain would surely wrestle over which group deserves it most.”

 

When the Tides Held the Moon by Venessa Vida Kelley (Erewhon Books). Reviewed by Emma Carbone. “More than anything, When the Tides Held the Moon is a love story, with the compelling queer attraction between Benny and Río quickly growing into mutual respect and empathy. At the same time, the book demonstrates how vital it is to find your tribe — something Benny didn’t realize he needed. Accepted as he is by the sideshow performers, he takes their credo, ‘With it, for it, never against it,’ to heart as he tries to figure out how to save Río without betraying his new friends, who have their own choices to make. (A cleverly presented epilogue outlines just what these choices are.)”

Behold the Bird in Flight: A Novel of an Abducted Queen by Terri Lewis (She Writes Press). Reviewed by D.A. Spruzen. “The novel immerses the reader in medieval life, whether it be the intricacies of running a royal household or the arranging of marriages of nobles’ children. It offers a captivating portrait of the 13th century as it wends its way through the travails of Isabelle’s days spent in soaring cathedrals and damp, drafty castles or on exhausting journeys to the farthest reaches of the kingdom. Behold the Bird in Flight is a meticulously researched chronicle of those long-ago times, and it’s a stunning debut.”

Authority: Essays by Andrea Long Chu (Farrar, Straus and Giroux). Reviewed by Nick Havey. “Chu’s genre analysis of the Showtime hit ‘Yellowjackets’ invokes chemistry to discuss and critique the genre-bending that drives the show’s narrative engine. Her essay about Andrew Lloyd Webber is deliciously vicious and funny while also being so fact-packed that you’d think she was under contract to write his biography. Her observations are so consistently excellent that they inspire you to form opinions about content you haven’t even consumed (hello, ‘Yellowstone’) and to reconsider some that you have (for me, it may be the works of Ottessa Moshfegh, an author as insufferably self-important as Bret Easton Ellis).”

Proto: How One Ancient Language Went Global by Laura Spinney (Bloomsbury Publishing). Reviewed by William Rice. “As befits a book about language, Spinney’s is always crisp and clear, sometimes sly and playful. She notes that among the powers to which writing can be put is ‘seducing and defrauding people over long distances.’ She asks, in a concluding section on the modern-day lingua franca that’s elbowing out local languages yet being transformed every day, ‘[I]s English killing, or is it dying, or is it somehow doing both at once?’”

Family & Other Calamities: A Novel by Leslie Gray Streeter (Lake Union Publishing). Reviewed by Heidi Mastrogiovanni. “There’s something beguiling to be found on almost every page. The author elegantly choreographs extreme feelings around significant set pieces (e.g., a big press conference, an intimate burial, and a milestone birthday party). Unexpected allies appear at surprising times and from the least likely places. And Dawn, who utters many smooth, dry, and clever lines, offers moving reflections on what it means to be widowed. She misses her best friend, ‘who was so much fun.’ But Dale still speaks to her; indeed, when he’s in her head, he is ‘the better part of my conscience.’”

It All Felt Impossible: 42 Years in 42 Essays by Tom McAllister (Rose Metal Press). Reviewed by Yelizaveta P. Renfro. “While the essays vary in quality, the best ones are succinct and spontaneous, their slapdash façades revealing real depth and careful craft. The ultimate success of the collection lies in McAllister’s willingness to speak plainly and honestly to his readers. Reaching the end of the final essay, on 2024, I was left with the feeling that I’d become, briefly, his companion, and I wanted to keep walking at his side a little longer to see what the coming years would bring.”

Putin’s Sledgehammer: The Wagner Group and Russia’s Collapse into Mercenary Chaos by Candace Rondeaux (PublicAffairs). Reviewed by Antoaneta Tileva. “Author Candace Rondeaux, an award-winning journalist, public-policy scholar, and director of Future Frontlines at the New America Foundation, gives us in Putin’s Sledgehammer an expansive chronicle, making connections few have traced, some gained by analyzing 130,000 leaked files from the many shell companies of Yevgeny Prighozin, Wagner’s former head, who died in a suspicious 2023 plane crash. The detailed analysis reads more like a breathless spy thriller than an academic exploration, owing not only to Rondeaux’s brilliance but also to her personal connection to the material: She was a student in St. Petersburg around the time Prighozin first met Putin, then mayor of the city.”

The Trouble of Color: An American Family Memoir by Martha S. Jones (Basic Books). Reviewed by Diana Pabst Parsell. “When new findings do turn up, they bring painful truths into sharper relief. Like her own mother before her, Nancy was subject to the sexual violence that occurred routinely on plantations in the South. Records show she raised at least 14 children, some from her white master, others from unions with Black men, including a legal marriage after she was freed. What does the word ‘family’ really mean, the author ponders, when households crossed the color line? Under such conditions, lines of kinship blur.”

That’s All I Know: A Novel by Elisa Levi; translated by Christina MacSweeney (Graywolf Press). Reviewed by Mike Maggio. “Every once in a while, there comes a novel that tears at the heartstrings and speaks to the soul. The characters woo you into their world in a way that makes you feel you’re part of their lives. You recognize them as if you knew them before and sympathize with them so much that, no matter how egregious their acts might be, you forgive them and even understand why they behave as they do. The masterful That’s All I Know by Spanish writer Elisa Levi (and translated by Christina MacSweeney) is one such book.”

Theater Kid: A Broadway Memoir by Jeffrey Seller (Simon & Schuster). Reviewed by Kitty Kelley. “There are, instead, clever one-liners written by a Broadway obsessive. ‘Going to see the Shuberts [theater owners Bernie Jacobs and Gerry Schoenfeld] is like going to see the Wizard…They remind me of the Muppet Show hecklers, Statler and Waldorf, except they are not even a little bit funny.’ The Shuberts’ competitor, Jimmy Nederlander, gets described as ‘a crap shooter from Guys and Dolls.’ Seller writes that, ultimately, Theater Kid is a book for gays who love musicals.”

How to Dodge a Cannonball: A Novel by Dennard Dayle (Henry Holt and Co.). Reviewed by Carr Harkrader. “You could describe How to Dodge a Cannonball, Dennard Dayle’s debut novel, in any number of ways: a cockeyed look at the Civil War; a bonkers coming-of-age tale featuring a band of (mostly unwilling) brothers journeying across 19th-century America; and certainly a satire of our country’s many racial issues. But I like to think of it as the literary equivalent of its protagonist’s job in the army: It twirls whatever flag is placed in its hands in an impressive (and often tangled) display for the entertainment of its readers.”

What Is Wrong with Men: Patriarchy, the Crisis of Masculinity, and How (Of Course) Michael Douglas Films Explain Everything by Jessa Crispin (Pantheon). Reviewed by Cara Tallo. “Is she using these films like a delicious, squeeze-cheesy sauce on the broccoli of social anthropology? Sure. Does it work? Surprisingly, it mostly does. Her decision to organize the book by topic (sex, race, and economics) rather than timeline makes it a bit tricky in places to track the overlay of the movies’ themes with broader cultural trends. And she seems content to leave the parallels between the patriarchal past and its present implicit, which I found an interesting choice. But in the end, what Crispin presents is arguably more valuable than a straightforward interrogation of gender inequality. It’s a powerful lesson on the human cost of valuing money over morals and competition over collaboration.”

Bodock: Stories by Robert Busby (Hub City Press). Reviewed by John P. Loonam. “Tragedy and grace, of course, are closely related. In the final, long offering, Busby revisits an earlier story in which the senseless slaughter of a prior tragedy seems to be closing in on the characters. This second look at that event comes from a different, neighboring perspective as two characters, prodded in mysterious ways by the violence at the farm next door, attempt to overcome impossible guilt and grief to save their marriage. All this is told in prose that’s so exact and exacting, it could be an instruction manual.”

The Rarest Fruit by Gaëlle Bélem; translated by Hildegarde Serle (Europa Editions). Reviewed by Alyson Foster. “A less-nuanced writer might be tempted to reduce Ferréol to a villainous caricature, a tidy symbol of the evils of colonial exploitation. But Bélem resists that simplification, offering something more unsettling about the overt and subtle ways that power imbalances can warp relationships and selfishness can undermine loyalty. In the wake of Ferréol’s betrayal, Edmond’s enslavement becomes increasingly intolerable. The rift widens, and yet Ferréol refuses to let Edmond go, even as he gradually emancipates his other slaves.”

Dinner with King Tut: How Rogue Archaeologists Are Re-Creating the Sights, Sounds, Smells, and Tastes of Lost Civilizations by Sam Kean (Little, Brown and Company). Reviewed by Peggy Kurkowski. “What makes Dinner with King Tut unique (as if DIYing a mummy isn’t enough) are the stories in each chapter that illustrate a typical (or not-so-typical) ‘day in the life’ of various imaginary protagonists. One might be wary of mixing nonfiction with fiction, but in this context, it is both effective and affecting. Through witty prose, colorful characters, and a narrative that links to each chapter’s theme, Kean adds depth and human dimension to the book. (But beware: Just like in real life, not every interlude ends happily.)”

Baldwin: A Love Story by Nicholas Boggs (Farrar, Straus and Giroux). Reviewed by Kitty Kelley. “Now comes an eloquent celebration of [Baldwin’s] centenary in Nicholas Boggs’ spellbinding Baldwin: A Love Story. This mammoth tribute celebrates the artist’s life — personal and professional — by dividing it into four parts, each led by the first name of the man beloved by Baldwin at the time: ‘Beauford: The Greenwich Village Years, 1940-1948’; ‘Lucien: The Paris Years, 1948-1955’; ‘Engin: The Transatlantic Years, 1957-1970’; and ‘Yoran: The Saint Paul-de-Vence Years, 1971-1976.’ It’s a life story that is at once erotic and erudite.”

The Mapmaker: A Novel of World War II by Tom Young (Knox Press). Reviewed by Lawrence De Maria. “The author served in the U.S. military and was an airline captain. He also spent a decade with the broadcast division of the Associated Press and has written a dozen books. Judging by The Mapmaker, he’s a born researcher; his descriptions of piloting WWII aircraft are riveting. I had no idea how much work went into flying a single-engine Lysander. Just starting one was a pain in the crankshaft. Once in the air, Philippe — like his real-life counterparts — has to contend with clouds, icing, and German night fighters. On the ground, he faces the Gestapo.”

Sunbirth: A Novel by An Yu (Grove Press). Reviewed by Nicole Yurcaba. “Anchored in curiosity and wonder, Sunbirth is keenly introspective and strangely mesmerizing — a poetic, necessary call to ‘absorb the world, to endlessly store everything’ around us. With its tantalizing story of families, secrets, and a world thrown into turmoil, Yu’s novel is a must-read work of speculative fiction.”

Blessings and Disasters: A Story of Alabama by Alexis Okeowo (Henry Holt & Co.). Reviewed by Shelby Smoak. “By highlighting such human drama, Okeowo gives her memoir the kind of soul not found in drily factual tomes. So, if you’re looking for a data-driven history of Alabama, this isn’t your book (nor was it meant to be). But if you want a work that fills in the gaps found in textbooks, the kind left when marginalized voices are ignored, then Blessings and Disasters is for you. Through clear-eyed storytelling that never devolves into condescension or anger, Okeowo seems to be following William Faulkner’s advice: ‘To understand the world, you must first understand a place like Mississippi.’ Alabama is Okeowo’s Mississippi.”

Hot Desk: A Novel by Laura Dickerman (Gallery Books). Reviewed by Kristin H. Macomber. “Bottom line: Don’t judge this book by its title or its cover or its amusing plot. Stick with it for the good stuff, which includes a reckoning of generational wrongs; a battle to keep those in power from having the last word; an affirmation of the right to tell one’s own story; and, best of all, a chance for a woman to renew a broken bond with the dearest friend she ever had.”

A Truce That Is Not Peace by Miriam Toews (Bloomsbury Publishing). Reviewed by Patricia Ann McNair. “By switching sides in the arguments she herself mounts, Toews presents her material in a kaleidoscopic structure. Time moves forward and back, moments linger in the present. She uses letters (real? Recreated?) and vignettes and quotes and slivers of research. One especially fine section is a play on an intake interview by a psychiatrist after Toews came close to ending her own life. She intersperses legitimate questions with memories from different times in her life when she felt alive and less than so.”

The Hounding: A Novel by Xenobe Purvis (Henry Holt and Co.). Reviewed by Marilyn Oser. “First things first: Ignore the back cover of this debut novel, which might lead you to believe what’s inside is low-taste horror. Ignore the cheesy title, too, with its obvious double meaning. Ignore its ‘parable’ label; the narrative is far too complex for that. (Allegory would be more accurate, except that the characters emerge so fully as human, each with individual quirks, quibbles, and quiddities, that any inherent symbolism never dominates.) Despite the fact that it tells of girls allegedly able to turn into dogs, Xenobe Purvis’ The Hounding is a serious work of fiction.”

Lucky Day by Chuck Tingle (Tor Nightfire). Reviewed by Nick Havey. “Lucky Day is, fundamentally, a rollickingly fun horror novel that is somehow jovial in its exploration of eldritch terrors and rips in the space-time continuum. It makes statistics fun. Its A+ cast of characters, including casino head Denver (a smooth-talking, no-bullshit woman cosplaying as a wealthy cowboy for no apparent reason), engaging Las Vegas locale, and commitment to the sci-fi bit make it a remarkable read.”

For the Sun After Long Nights: The Story of Iran’s Women-Led Uprising by Fatemeh Jamalpour and Nilo Tabrizy (Pantheon). Reviewed by Rose Rankin. “This book isn’t just bearing witness; it’s a lamentation. Steeped in the poetic traditions that have been part of Iranian culture for millennia, the authors mourn the country they once knew, the talent wasted, the lives destroyed, the communities torn apart. Yet it’s also a refutation of the terror the regime imposes and a cry of defiance in the face of oppression. The authors share stories of famous women and unknown citizens alike who’ve stood up to the rulers or even just managed to persist despite terrible restrictions. These heroes are primarily women but also members of ethnic minorities like Kurds and Balochis who’ve been discriminated against for decades.”

The True True Story of Raja the Gullible (and His Mother): A Novel by Rabih Alameddine (Grove Press). Reviewed by Anne Eliot Feldman. “But The True True Story of Raja the Gullible (and His Mother) never shies from the truth. Life — whether in a war zone or not — is unpredictable, and even in the best of times, our deepest relationships (like we ourselves) may falter. Yet Raja and Zalfa’s shatterproof bond speaks to trust, honesty, and their unshakeable belief that the love they share will sustain them. It’s a beautiful tale.”

Deadwood: Gold, Guns, and Greed in the American West by Peter Cozzens (Knopf). Reviewed by Peggy Kurkowski. “For all its depravity and violence, Deadwood stood out in one positive way: for its ‘well deserved reputation for racial tolerance — within the context of the times — and ethnic diversity.’ Chinese workers came to Deadwood, a few to mine for gold, but many more as laborers, servants, cooks, and launderers. Blacks ‘enjoyed a climate of tolerance’ that was mostly contingent on the political affiliations of whites…Cozzens peppers these observations with the personal stories of several prominent residents of color, including Wong Fee Lee, who bought property and opened a shop specializing in imported Asian goods. Lee counted as his friends Sheriff Bullock and Sol Star, Bullock’s hardware-store partner.”

Happy People Don’t Live Here: A Novel by Amber Sparks (Liveright). Reviewed by Keith Donohue. “The ending — which shamelessly relies on one coincidence after another — provides for a wholly satisfying resolution since we suspended disbelief ages ago. Even unhappy people deserve moments of joy once in a while, perhaps most of all Alice, who earns her keep by building commissioned miniatures and dioramas or selling her own creations to collectors via the internet. I almost googled her to buy my own little world, till I realized there’s no such thing as ghosts, or if there are, they reside (quite properly) in stories.”

What We Can Know: A Novel by Ian McEwan (Knopf). Reviewed by John P. Loonam. “He is able to pursue literary criticism because so much of literature was digitized and therefore survived, though how some things endured while others did not is never fully explained — this is science fiction without much science. And, of course, much of what Tom ‘learns’ is speculative, a product of his intense attempt to imagine the past. This gets us to the question implied by the book’s title: What can we know? In this case, the hollow at the core of our knowledge is the missing poem, which manages to shift and grow as Tom learns more about its composition and about the relationship between Francis and Vivien Blundy it allegedly portrays.”

Martha’s Daughter: A Novella and Stories by David Haynes (McSweeney’s). Reviewed by Emily Mitchell. “Mostly, however, the stories in Martha’s Daughter are complex, trenchant, moving and very, very funny. They use humor to get the reader close to some big, upsetting truths, and they show people enduring and sometimes finding space to be who they are against the forces that would prevent it. Altogether, they are a great pleasure to read.”

The Literati: A Novel by Susan Coll (Harper Muse). Reviewed by Marcie Geffner. “Soon, Clemi is racing through the hotel, wearing a glam outfit that isn’t hers, fretting about a possible hostage situation that (maybe) involves two undercover FBI agents, and babysitting the precocious Vlad, who’s now in possession of both Immanuel and a toy chicken that records adult conversations when it really, really shouldn’t. And that’s not all. Clemi must also cope with false middle-of-the-night fire alarms, awkwardly overcrowded elevators, an unexpected hotel-room hook-up, a rogue catering cart, and — wait for it — a troupe of clowns that, bizarrely, keeps popping up in her life.”

Tall Is Her Body by Robert de la Chevotière (Erewhon Books). Reviewed by Priyanka Champaneri. “The pleasure of following Fidel’s journey is in seeing him understand his own role in those connections. As he grows into a man, flees the islands and returns again, looks to (and turns from) his companion ghosts, and forms very real bonds with the living, he is ever the sympathetic character, rendering Tall Is Her Body, which has a vision all its own, an admirable addition to the canon of Afro-Caribbean literature.”

Unabridged: The Thrill of (and Threat to) the Modern Dictionary by Stefan Fatsis (Atlantic Monthly Press). Reviewed by Randy Cepuch. “His lifelong love of dictionaries led him to do a story for Slate about how rapidly things were changing in lexicography (noun: ‘the process of writing, editing, or compiling a dictionary’). Historically, it took many years to produce new editions, and they were almost always somewhat outdated upon arrival because new words are perpetually entering common use, existing words taking on new meanings, and old ones becoming obsolete.”

Bad Bad Girl: A Novel by Gish Jen (Knopf). Interview by Anson Tong. “Gish Jen is finally ready to talk about her mother. In Bad Bad Girl, titled for her mother’s recurring scolding, Jen traces a fictionalized version of her mother’s life from childhood to leaving Shanghai as the Chinese Communist Party takes power to immigrating to New York as a graduate student and becoming a wife and a mother. Even as Jen herself becomes an active participant in the story, she demonstrates immense compassion for the complicated woman her mother was.”

Queen Mother: Black Nationalism, Reparations, and the Untold Story of Audley Moore by Ashley D. Farmer (Pantheon). Reviewed by Tim Hirschel-Burns. “Queen Mother adopts an impressively transatlantic perspective, contributing to a growing canon on the ties between Black Americans and African-independence leaders that includes Howard W. French’s The Second Emancipation. Not only did the growth of the Black Power movement lead Moore and others to embrace their African cultural heritage, she developed close personal and political ties to figures like Sékou Touré and Julius Nyerere.”

Secret Maps: Maps You Were Never Meant to See, from the Middle Ages to Today by Tom Harper, Nick Dykes, and Magdalena Peszko (University of Chicago Press). Reviewed by Tom Peebles. “Harper, Dykes, and Peszko are specialists in the cartographic section of the esteemed British Library, England’s national library. They obviously know the technical side of map-making, but they also bring infectious enthusiasm and deep historical insight to their task of explaining how secrecy has affected the making of maps at a wide range of locations across the globe…The vignettes are enriched by the high quality of the book’s illustrations. The maps that serve as the focal points for each are remarkably well-reproduced, with brilliant colors. Readers can easily imagine themselves on a tour of the British Library, moving from room to room with Harper, Dykes, or Peszko serving as their well-informed docent.”

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