"Tyler's Last" evokes the ghost of Patricia Highsmith in a thriller of global complications.
Put mischievously spinster twins in a small Mexican city and out come sly laughs.
André Alexis's stunning "Fifteen Dogs" confers canines with human sensibility, and the greater gift of empathy.
China Miéville turns too arcane in his latest foray into the Stonehenge-styled surreal.
Don DeLillo's latest future-sprawl, cryonic freezing included, doesn't quite know what it most wants to say.
Jensen Beach's 15 stories are set in Sweden and convey equal doses of wisdom and melancholy.
Amelia Gray is adept enough with grotesqueness to make it feel second nature, and that's a gift.
Modiano's slender 1978 psychological thriller remains a superb and disturbing Parisian novel.
Jesse Ball's study of teen alienation, while persuasive, heads for and reaches a dead end.
Bios & Memoirs
A Flemish-Belgian writer "reinvents" his grandfather to brilliant and dramatic effect.
By Mario Bellatín, translated from the Spanish by Kurt Hollander
City Lights, 2009. 63 pages
The narrator of Bellatín's slight but insidious parable is a cross-dresser who runs a beauty salon-turned-hospice in a never-named city as a plague gradually decimates the population. In his place appropriately called the Terminal, he offers a "quick death under the most comfortable conditions," absolutely no priests or nuns allowed.
His fascination is with fish, which he assembles in many aquariums, doting on the idiosyncrasies of different species. They seem easier to care about than his wounded patients.
But then the fish begin to die. At the same time, their illness keeps them safe from predators. "The sick fish attacked by fungus became sacred and untouchable" and "sick fish were always respected." For Mexican novelist Bellatín, a self-styled minimalist who once attended seminary school in Peru, disease levels the playing field. Gay, poor, religious and frivolous are anonymously pooled together. "Death has long believed it has the liberty to do as it pleases in the beauty salon…" As well it should. The secular leveling of the playing field makes for deep helplessness but also creates pride; an odd couple that Bellatín insists must learn to live (and die) together.
Reviewed by Book Staff