Word: novels
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...book is a deceptively easy read—you can fly right through it without catching half of Handey’s clever satirical insights. With its scattered structure of short pieces connected by repeated references to everyday characters with absurd imaginations, the book reads like a Kurt Vonnegut novel. Handey’s narrator appears to be a middle-aged man with a penchant for his own “funny cowboy dance.” But the individual sketches are very much units unto themselves, preventing the book from having the virtuosic scope and insight...
Felicity threw her tawdry romance novel to the floor with a furious exclamation. She had to stop reading such filth. It was in the poorest of taste, and besides, she had not been able to read past the first line all morning. Her hands shook. She had been worrying the hem of her dress with what remained of her fingernails.The cause of her distress was no mystery. Each morning, for five days, she had found an excuse to visit the stables. And each morning, upon her arrival, she found her husband Frederick already there, discussing details of the upcoming harvest...
Edward Docx’s third novel, “Pravda,” starts off like a Dan Brown thriller. We are introduced to Gabriel Glover, freshly landed in St. Petersburg following his mother’s strange midnight call to his apartment in London. “Come tomorrow. Promise me,” she had demanded with mysterious urgency the night before. Gabriel obeys, traveling to Russia and taxiing over to her apartment only to find his mother dead on the floor. All similarities to Dan Brown, thankfully, stop there. Instead of the murder mystery suggested...
...hear whenever I get giddy about my favorite subject, and while it isn’t exclusive to Harvard, I encounter it here most often. I’ve never heard any of my classmates say that they don’t see movies, don’t read novels, or don’t like art, but when it comes to the idiot box, the claws come out. And in some ways, I can understand why. Television is home to some of the worst indulgences in American culture. It’s peppered with ads. It?...
...spending all day picking through clovers in an attempt to find a lucky four-leafed sprout, or saving up whatever spare change I could find in the corners of my house in order to buy that brightly beaded jump rope. György Dragomán’s novel, “The White King,” newly available in a translation by Paul Olchváry, shows that he feels the same way. Dragomán explores the dynamics of a violent and unstable society through the eyes of his child narrator, Djata, who is constantly attempting...