Nikolai Leskov’s The Enchanted Wandered and Other Stories; Ludmilla Petrushevskaya’s There Once Lived a Girl Who Seduced Her Sister's Husband, and He Hanged Himself

In the short stories of Tenth of December, the impression of chaos belies a careful design.

The soul-destroying weariness in A.B. Yehoshua’s stories seems as old as time itself—and unique to contemporary Israel.

A Russian novelist’s fight, in life and art, to see the world afresh in all its cruelty and splendor.

In his writing and life, Thomas Bernhard led a charge in the opposite direction. His publisher always broke his fall.

How Argentine fiction about the Malvinas War conspires in a trick of perspective.

Ayana Mathis’s The Twelve Tribes of Hattie; Andrey Platonov’s Happy Moscow

How thrillers inform spycraft, and the fictions that belie them both.

For all the ways it is rife with tenderness, fury and ugliness, William Faulkner’s fiction is stubbornly persistent in its artistry.

Edward P. Jones’s characters know that everything they’ve worked for might suddenly be taken from them.