Luke Gorham
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Judas Goat: Poems
Thrillingly bold, this collection is at once unique in approach, mischievous in its navigation of ideas, and lush yet controlled in its use of language, rupturing the division between the domestic and the primal to both delicate and brutal ends.
PREMIUM
The Passenger
The Passenger is proof that McCarthy still has plenty in the tank, and if it doesn’t quite rise to the heights of his finest work, it’s certainly his strangest. It’s a thrill to find the author still making such beguiling moves.
PREMIUM
Stella Maris
A surprising gunshot of a novel that pairs perfectly with The Passenger and expands the scope of McCarthy’s oeuvre.
Foster
Keegan offers further evidence of her facility at imbuing short fiction with immense feeling and invoking a deceptively grand scale; a rich, compassionate work that will appeal to a wide range of readers.
PREMIUM
Now Is Not the Time To Panic
Highly recommended as a sincere, sometimes brutal, but always sturdy study of the burden of both art and adolescence and a wonderfully evocative treatise on how we imprint ourselves on the world and learn to survive in that tumultuous wake.
Dr. No
A go-for-broke work of literary comedy that successfully blends rib-tickling eccentricity with affecting and stealthily moving discourse on race, wealth, and the failures of neoliberal institutions; you’re unlikely to read anything funnier this year.
A Minor Chorus
Less traditional “novel” than a ruminative constellation of ideas regarding colonial trauma, heteropatriarchy, and the innate sociality of writing; Belcourt’s boldest, freest, and most linguistically assured work yet.
PREMIUM
Marigold and Rose: A Fiction
A sly, winsome tale; of interest to longtime Glück fans and easily digestible for all readers, but failing to rise above the level of charming trifle.
Alive at the End of the World
Jones’s most free-flowing work yet, a centripetal collection where rage and pain and weariness swirl and coalesce with stunning emotional and conceptual clarity, yet so intimate it feels bled from the author’s very veins.
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