Men are more likely to be involved in violent crime — as perpetrators and victims — but women love to read about it. Kate Tuttle considers the gendered attractions of the genre.
The reform school at the center of Whitehead’s new novel (his first since “The Underground Railroad”) is more like a prison where the inmates are brutalized and even killed.
Svetlana Alexievich’s newly translated oral history, “Last Witnesses,” presents the recollections of Russians who experienced World War II as children.
The cover is clean and brand-new, the pages are crisp — and then your vacation begins. Jessica Olien illustrates the path to the dog-eared and waterlogged.
It’s hardly glamorous but still enticing, as reported by a young black chef, an obsessive blogger, a prickly female restaurateur and the man who made Noma famous.
Literary history is filled with authors who depended on lengthy visits for room and board, psychological solace and material. But they have not always proved the most gracious guests.
In his memoir, “Places and Names,” the Marine veteran Elliot Ackerman travels to Syria and sees a refracted image of the forever wars of Iraq and Afghanistan.
Beach books are the cool aunts of the literary world: They drive with the top down and take you to new places. They’re memorable, challenging, warm and wise.
During a worldwide economic collapse, the heroes of Andri Snaer Magnason’s “The Casket of Time” seal themselves in time-proof boxes. So does everyone else.