Book Reviews and Literary Essays | The Northwest Review of Books

Home     Reviews     Essays     Twitter     About     Print

The Northwest Review of Books Issue 1: Literature in Translation

Print Issue 1

The first print issue of The Northwest Review of Books features translations of poetry and prose from the Chinese, Danish, Farsi, French, Hebrew, Russian, Spanish, and Yiddish, as well as commentary and criticism on works by Haruki Murakami, Tulsidas, and Diego Zúñiga. Translators include Beatrice Bridglall, Sue Burke, Joanna Chen, Patrick James Dunagan, Maia Evrona, Michael Goldman, J. Kates, Tsipi Keller, Ava Koohbor, Christian Law, Armine Kotin Mortimer, Jeremy Tiang, and Charlotte Whittle.

More Information

Kotik Letaev by Andrei Bely

Reviewed by James Yeary

January 13, 2017


In Kotik Letaev, Andrei Bely, author of the much-celebrated novel Petersburg, creates a self-portrait of his earliest years, a period of time very few of us can attest to remember much of, and he does so in a way that preserves the scaffolding of memory. It can come off as very clumsy, or ineloquent, as the author uses no farce to soften the lines of what memory has faded. Instead Kotik Letaev is something of an impressionist portrait, saturated with colors burst from the edges of objects represented. It is a modernist masterpiece, warts and all, loaded with the nuances of Russian society before the Revolution.

Continue Reading

The Impossibilists: The Avant-Garde in Portland

E. J. Carter

December 2, 2016


Near the end of Don Carpenter’s Hard Rain Falling, Jack Levitt runs into a pool-hall gambler he knew in Oregon:

“How’s old Portland?”

“Terrible. I haven’t been back in a long time. They closed the Rialto, tore down Ben Fenne’s building, shut up the card-rooms for poker action, everything. They got a lady mayor up there a few years ago came in and really cleaned house. Man, what a gas. . .

Continue Reading

Frantumaglia: A Writer's Journey by Elena Ferrante

Reviewed by Lisa Mullenneaux

November 22, 2016


In 1991 publishers Sandra Ozzola and Sandro Ferri faced a dilemma: their author, who chose to call herself Elena Ferrante, declined their invitation to promote her first book. My job is done, she explained: I wrote it. “Besides, isn’t it true that promotion is expensive? I will be the publishing house’s least expensive author. I’ll spare you even my presence.” Luckily, the owners of Rome’s independent Edizioni E/O accepted Ferrante’s terms: she has made them a fortune (1.6 million sales of the Neapolitan Quartet in the U.S. alone)—all without revealing her identity.

Continue Reading

Lost Profiles: Memoirs of Cubism, Dada, and Surrealism by Philippe Soupault

Reviewed by Patrick James Dunagan

November 2, 2016

Lost Profiles

In 1920 André Breton and Philippe Soupault published Les Champs magnétiques (The Magnetic Fields), a defining text of Surrealism. The collection brought together works of “automatic writing” by both young poets announcing a breakthrough model of composition which continues to influence further poetic innovation and remains one of the greatest contributions to literature made by the original Surrealist group. Breton went on to declare himself Surrealism’s Grand Poobah. Many of his works have been broadly translated and are readily available to anglophone readers…

Continue Reading

All That Man Is by David Szalay

Reviewed by Michael Magras

October 3, 2016

All That Man Is

Say what you will about Henry James, but whether you think he was an astute chronicler of human psychology or the creator of some of the most convoluted sentences ever written, you’ve got to admit the man understood the importance of joie de vivre. The Canadian-born English writer David Szalay, author of the novels Spring, The Innocent, and London and the South-East, acknowledges this, too. In the first of the nine stories that constitute his latest work, All That Man Is, two English teenagers, Simon and Ferdinand, have arrived in Kraków from Berlin and await the arrival of a man named Otto…

Continue Reading

A Science Not for the Earth by Yevgeny Baratynsky

Reviewed by James Yeary

July 9, 2016

A Science Not for the Earth

In 1842 a Moscow bookseller published Dusk, a slim book, twenty-six short poems, by Yevgeny Baratynsky. The poet’s career seemed years behind him. He had teased the spotlight in his twenties, been acclaimed one of Russia’s finest poets. He counted among his friends the poet and ascending deity of Russian letters, Aleksandr Pushkin. The latter had championed Baratynsky’s work, and the two had shared space in a volume called Two Tales in Verse that contained two narrative poems, one by each. Baratynsky had been mythologized from the outset…

Continue Reading

So Much Synth by Brenda Shaughnessy

Reviewed by Lisa Butts

June 29, 2016

So Much Synth

Brenda Shaughnessy’s fourth collection of poetry is her most mature work to date, deeply concerned with aging and mortality, where the poet has been and where she will end up. The opening poem boasts the title “I Have a Time Machine,” followed by the begrudging admission that “it can only travel into the future / at a rate of one second per second.” The inverse of the time machine’s function is a panoramic view of the past with its endless regrets and psychic wounds to be picked at, ranging from the innocuous, “Myself age eight, whole head burnt with embarrassment / at having lost a library book,” to the oppressive…

Continue Reading

Grief Is the Thing with Feathers by Max Porter

Reviewed by Charlotte Whittle

June 17, 2016

Grief Is the Thing with Feathers

Max Porter’s debut novel Grief Is the Thing with Feathers is unlike any narrative of grief I have ever read. Porter offers a fresh, invigorating treatment of bereavement, illuminating moments in the lives of a husband and two sons as they struggle to find their feet in the wake of a staggering loss.

The widower, known only as Dad, sees off the final “orbiting grievers” and contemplates his solitude. He drinks. He smokes. He is possessed of a “curiously anthropological awareness” of the types of behavior induced by crisis…

Continue Reading

Bright Dead Things by Ada Limón

Reviewed by Stephanie Glazier

May 28, 2016

Bright Dead Things

I’ve felt the strange envy Ada Limón names in “I Remember the Carrots,” the poem from which her fourth collection draws its title: jealousy of the wild order on earth. Recounting that she pulled up her father’s carrot crop, she writes: “I loved them: my own bright dead things. / I’m thirty-five and remember all that I’ve done wrong. / Yesterday I was nice, but in truth I resented / the contentment of the field.” Throughout the book, Limón struggles between oneness with nature and fury that she cannot ultimately, fully, have such a peace.

Continue Reading

Morning Ritual by Lisa Rogal

Reviewed by James Yeary

May 7, 2016

Morning Ritual

There are two poems in Morning Ritual titled “I woke up this morning.” The first of these poems—also the first poem in the collection—seems to be where the title of the collection stems from. Though the theme of waking of course appears at the onset of the second of these, and recurs at various points in the collection, it is this first poem that is the most ritualistic, in the sense of a performance, or magic. This first poem sets the tone (flat, conversational), subject matter (experiences as phenomena of questionable substance), and the poetic devices Rogal will use throughout the rest of the book.

Continue Reading

Hystopia by David Means

Reviewed by Heather Scott Partington

April 30, 2016


David Means, known for his “razor-sharp” short stories, meticulously conceives a complex and recondite reality in his debut novel. Hystopia is told as a frame story detailing an alternate historical timeline. Means takes on the Vietnam War, psychology, treatment for veterans, and the nature of storytelling—or rather, story remembering—in this elaborate narrative. Means’s precision, honed on short stories, lends itself well to this work; his characters are sharply drawn, and though the subject matter is complex, he makes the details manageable. His abstruse narrative evokes Tim O’Brien’s words: “Fiction is the lie that helps us understand the truth.”

Continue Reading

A Well-Made Bed by Laurie Alberts and Abby Frucht

Reviewed by Benjamin Woodard

April 23, 2016

A Well-Made Bed

In his 1925 essay “Art as Device,” Russian literary theorist Viktor Shklovsky coined the word ostranenie, meant to describe writing that leads “to a knowledge of a thing through the organ of sight instead of recognition,” or that employs “a description that changes [an object’s] form without changing its essence.” With ostranenie—in layman’s terms, the replacement of everyday terminologies for common articles and events with unique alternatives—Shklovsky argues, “something strange, something monstrous” occurs: the reader is forced to approach a familiar idea with fresh eyes, experiencing something routine with heightened awareness, as if for the first time.

Continue Reading

Hit Parade by the Orbita Group

Edited by Kevin M. F. Platt

Reviewed by James Yeary

April 16, 2016

Hit Parade

“By shifting our attention from the ‘I’ to the ‘we,’” David Carr writes in Experience and History, “it is not necessary to leave the first-person point of view behind; we merely take up the plural rather than the singular first person.”

In Hit Parade, by the Orbita Group, we are presented with the work of a self-defined poetry collective, a group of poets who compose works as individuals, though often presenting them in intermedia presentations—in video, or musical collaborations. It is questionable what the benefit of handing something as personal as one’s lyrical identity over to a group might be, but it isn’t facetious....

Continue Reading

Anything That Burns You

Terese Svoboda creates an image of witness with the opening scene of Anything That Burns You: A Portrait of Lola Ridge, Radical Poet. At a protest against the execution of Sacco and Vanzetti, the hooves of police horses rear up over Ridge’s bowed head. She stands immobile, willing to be martyred on behalf of anarchists and immigrants—two identities central to her life and work as well as the tumultuous era she helped shape. Svoboda—poet, novelist, memoirist, and translator—has reclaimed the life of this neglected, pioneering writer, compelling us to share her passion for Ridge.

Continue Reading

You Should Pity Us Instead by Amy Gustine

Reviewed by Heather Scott Partington

March 4, 2016

You Should Pity Us Instead

“You can’t live on bread…,” a woman tells her lover, Mike, in You Should Pity Us Instead, Amy Gustine’s debut collection of stories. But Mike replies, “Prisoners do.” Such are the meager lives of Gustine’s characters in this collection of stories about people in trying times. The tone of You Should Pity Us Instead is somber, but this is not a negative critique; in fact, Gustine’s stories illustrate well the strengths of the genre, and how small moments of pain can end up affecting people deeply. Short stories allow the reader glimpses into a few heartbeats of a life, and it is usually in our most difficult moments that we define our own personalities....

Continue Reading

The Door by Magda Szabó

Reviewed by Jonathan Russell Clark

February 19, 2016

The Door

Emerence is a housekeeper for a writer named Magda, and the two women couldn’t be any more different. That sentence, in all its ordinariness, could legitimately stand as a plot description for Magda Szabó’s subtle and fascinating novel The Door. The events that take place are dramatic at times, to be sure, but they function more as isolated incidents rather than a narrative whole. Emerence is the through-line; she is the connective tissue that brings together the disparate parts to make a body. She is—like Gatsby, Ahab, or Daisy Miller—what I call a study character...

Continue Reading

Françoise Sagan and Luxury Existentialism

Emily Sipiora

February 12, 2016

Françoise Sagan

The infamously audacious French authoress Françoise Sagan has been described in multiple obituaries as a “luxury hotel existentialist.” Throughout her entire lifetime, Sagan remained indifferent to her acclaim, facing press and publication with a cheeky and terse disdain. She often appeared stylishly insouciant, the only indicator of her great wit a smirk or a quiet laugh. Understandably, this attitude was poorly understood by literary society in 1950s Paris, and Sagan found herself called an eternal spoilt child who waxed existential themes from a comfortable loft, surrounded by sports cars and expensive alcohol.

Continue Reading

Prague: Memories of a City

Alex McElroy

January 22, 2016


Let me start with a book, Daniela Hodrová’s Prague, I See a City…, a slim and disorienting text—maybe a novel, maybe a travel guide—in which Hodrová navigates the interdependence of Prague and her personal life. The book was originally commissioned as an alternative guidebook for French tourists after the fall of the Soviet Union. But as Hodrová completed the book, it evolved into an achronological menagerie comprising legends, memoir, literary criticism, and the occasional theater recommendation.

Continue Reading

So You Don't Get Lost in the Neighborhood by Patrick Modiano

Reviewed by Jonathan Russell Clark

November 27, 2015

So You Don't Get Lost in the Neighborhood

Unbeknownst to most Americans (including, I hasten to admit, myself), for the past half century Patrick Modiano has built a literary legacy in his native France. It was not until he received the Nobel Prize in Literature that the United States took real notice, and the consequent translations of his novels appearing now and well into next year will certainly solidify the notice into a reputation. First was last year’s Suspended Sentences, a trilogy of novellas set during the Nazi occupation, a period Modiano returns to again and again. (Apparently his father’s dubious activities during the war spur this fixation on.) And now we have another short work, So You Don’t Get Lost in the Neighborhood...

Continue Reading

Thoughts on Finishing

Lauren Alwan

November 6, 2015

Thoughts on Finishing

Most days there are at least fifteen documents open on my laptop. These consist of works in various stages, some newly drafted or in mid-revision, and others that seem close, but remain suspended in a state of near-completion. Generally, the newer works get the attention while the nearly finished are deferred. I have difficulty with that final phase, when the questions narrow and the focus tightens, and as a result, I tend to temporize. This includes looking for answers outside the work—trolling online articles or revisiting well-loved books and essays—though this is nothing more than distraction disguised as research...

Continue Reading