Reviews

Something rotten at the heart of the Finland-Swedish academic and literary establishment.

A carefully made documentary in print: two skilful communicators have joined forces to stimulate readers into learning more about their special subject.

Jessica Schiefauer’s thorough examination of neo-Nazis, hate crime and homoeroticism resists simplification and reminds us of the thin line we all tread when we choose how to treat each other.

At a staff meeting, discussing ways to tackle the persistent issue of shoplifting, a security guard suggests the store deal with the problem by making culprits wear a sign saying ‘I am a thief’.

A particular strength is his description of how someone in a crisis observes small and seemingly unimportant details and clings to them, to protect himself or herself against a greater evil.

The Katitzi books expose readers to a way of life and to a period of harsh and disturbing stereotyping and discrimination of the Romani people that many may not know much about.

A novel of violence and feelings.

Now Masha, Tolstoy’s favourite child, comes into focus, completing the Russian triptych.

‘How grandiose, eccentric, depressive, suicidal, bizarre, queer or sexually affirmative can a woman be before she is labelled insane?’

Doris is a determined little girl who knows her own mind. And what she wants is to finish the civil engineering project she’s working on in her sandpit, not to go out for afternoon tea – particularly when that means putting on a pink flouncy frock rather than her favourite sailor suit.

A secret concealed in the communal laundry: a tub full of pulsating black goo that craves blood and offers in return irresistible mystical transports.

Maria (Mary to her friends), a 23-year-old architecture student, has just discovered that she is expecting a baby.

That magical, belly-flipping fizz of first love.

This is the kind of book likely to elicit the attention of gatekeepers in the world of YA fiction.

Virdborg’s whole book can be read as a descent into hell.

What remains from Ray Bradbury’s story is an existential ambivalence about the end of a life, and of the novel itself in the face of inevitability.

Haridi grapples with tricky subjects such as mental illness and urban poverty from a child’s skewed perspective.

It is natural as time passes to re-evaluate our relationship with our late parents.