In his melancholy World War II novel, The Barman of the Ritz, French writer Philippe Collin brings readers into the life of Frank Meier, longtime barman at the Petit Bar in the Ritz Paris hotel. Collin explores Frank's inner struggles relating to the complicated decisions he made during the war, and also gives a detailed inside look at the hotel's clientele--including a number of high-ranking German officers--during those difficult years.

Translated from the French by Frank Wynne, Collin's taut narrative takes place during the occupation of Paris. Frank, meticulous in crafting cocktails and managing the particulars of his bar, hides his loneliness and worry behind an impeccably groomed facade. Privately, though, Frank is terrified: he has long hidden his Jewish heritage, and he is determined to protect his secret, along with that of his apprentice, Luciano (also a Jew), and Blanche, the American Jewish wife of Ritz manager Claude Auzello. Frank must maintain an elegant front for the German officers who patronize the Ritz bar, while also working with a clandestine network to secure forged papers for Jewish families to leave France. Night after night, Frank mixes drinks while navigating shifting alliances among his clients and colleagues; worrying that his fragile protections will collapse; and wondering if his choices make him an unofficial Resistance fighter or a collaborator with the Nazi regime.

As complex as one of Frank's signature cocktails, The Barman of the Ritz presents a multifaceted account of life under Nazi rule and a sensitive portrait of a man forced to make impossible choices. --Katie Noah Gibson, blogger at Cakes, Tea and Dreams

Can someone vanish if their existence isn't acknowledged as valid to begin with? That is the question driving Booker Prize winner Marlon James's The Disappearers, a massive, unsparing reckoning of a novel, spanning more than 600 pages.

The story opens in Kingston, Jamaica, in May 1988. Eight gay men, all strangers, gather to rehearse John Herbert's Fortune and Men's Eyes, a play set inside a prison. The cast includes Havelock Titus, the director; 18-year-old Eddy Porteous; and Jordan Brown, who possesses a sharp, defensive bluntness. Rounding out the group are Omar Joseph, Rainford Ellis, Orrin Turner, Matt Chin, and Clive Lim.

Their world shatters when a violent mob attacks their rehearsal space. By sunrise, Omar is dead, Rainford is blinded, and Orrin and Matt, the titular "disappearers," have vanished into the Kingston heat. The narrative maps the ensuing wreckage over several years through a fragmented structure of diary entries, interviews, letters, and even the perspectives of the attackers themselves. This formal choice forces readers directly into the mob's mindset, refusing to offer the safety of a detached vantage point. In The Disappearers, James refuses to turn perpetrators into caricatures; he presents the homophobia of ordinary citizens as casual and omnipresent.

James (Black Leopard, Red Wolf; A Brief History of Seven Killings) has spent his career examining Jamaica's historical fractures, but The Disappearers possesses a raw, unmediated fury. As a gay Jamaican writer, James brings profound personal stakes to this register. The result is a more intimate and less mythologized prose than in his previous work, with a gravity that is felt on every page. --Elizabeth DeNoma, executive editor, DeNoma Literary Services, Seattle, Wash.

Riikka Pulkkinen (True) challenges readers to form their own impressions with Enchantment, a striking novel about girlhood, perception, and death.

"The sun is setting and they're at the beach. The sky is soft mallow and bronze. It's the last summer of their youth." Pulkkinen, in an atmospheric translation from the Finnish by Tabatha Leggett, emphasizes this cinematic view. The next scene, almost a year later, is a forensic autopsy: Philippa Laakso, age 17, has been found dead in the courtyard of her apartment complex.

Philippa is the center of this novel; all gazes are directed toward her. Observations come in various formats: interview notes by police investigators, flashbacks, and descriptions of videos recorded by Philippa on her treasured Olympus PEN camera. Chapters take the close-third-person perspective of various characters, rarely including Philippa herself. Philippa is a perfect enigma to those left behind. These include a compassionate, poetic forensic pathologist; an elderly widower, whom Philippa befriended; the older men she met via dating apps; the boy she dated seriously and recently broke up with; Saga, her friend and double; and Philippa's mother, from whom "the girl had learned the art of being a matryoshka."

One of Enchantment's central concerns is the question of perspective, of what is possible to know about a person. Pulkkinen's dreamy novel delves into the line between truth and fiction, storytelling and self-creation. Philippa invented herself, and in the aftermath of her life, police investigate the question of her death, as everyone investigates how to view and remember her. She has "become a dream, gossip, stories," and readers are left to parse the enchantment that remains. --Julia Kastner, blogger at pagesofjulia

Jacaranda by Rwandan-French novelist and hip-hop artist Gaël Faye (Small Country) is an award-winning exploration of family, history, and one young man's place in it all. At first, for 12-year-old Milan, the 1994 genocide in Rwanda is just images on the news brought to him in France, where he lives with his Rwandan mother and French father. But it becomes real when a wounded relative arrives. Milan's mother tells him little about Claude--just that he's her nephew and in France for medical treatment.

Milan adopts Claude as a brother until, without warning, Claude is gone. Milan's mother avoids his questions, saying only that relatives they'd presumed dead have resurfaced and are taking the other boy in. It's the first domino to fall in an emotive narrative that leads Milan to Rwanda, where he excavates the painful legacy of family and country.

Jacaranda is filled with complex and dynamic characters, many whom Milan meets in Rwanda. Stella was born after the violence but is still impacted by its repercussions. Milan helps her transcribe and share her great-grandmother's life story. Sartre is a music-obsessed young man caring for orphaned and displaced children in a dilapidated compound. Sartre's relationship with Claude becomes more tangled when they uncover revelations about Sartre's past. As Milan navigates relationships with these characters, he grows from a child into an adult. His worldview broadens and complicates his sense of identity in profound ways.

Translated from the French by Sarah Ardizzone, Jacaranda is a moving personal history set in a broader landscape of violence and trauma. --Carol Caley, writer

Humorist and podcaster Eli McCann's wryly hilarious first novel, Stitched, follows a fractious Utah quilting group as they prepare for a big competition--and unpicks some of the reasons their dynamics may be fraying at the seams.

The historically all-female Ogden Quilters Association is thrilled to hear that a big regional quilting competition will take place in a neighboring town. Straitlaced chair Betty Lou believes it's their chance to create a showstopping quilt and win an award, perhaps compensating for their previously uneven showings at the event. The group welcomes two new members, Byron and Rob, both young gay men who are brand new to quilting, in an effort to inject some fresh energy into their quest. As the members debate quilt design ideas and subtly try to one-up one another with the baked goods they bring to meetings, their personality clashes and underlying frustrations with one another come to the surface.

McCann (We're Thankful for the Moisture) deftly captures the affection, tension, and passive-aggressive power dynamics the members display at OQA meetings along with their colorful fabrics and varying levels of skill. He also explores the details of competitive quilting culture, including arcane administrative rules, feuds between rival quilting groups, and artistic differences. The OQA's members--among them levelheaded fabric shop owner Candace, prickly Leera, sweet Lucy, gregarious Byron, and quiet Rob--make up an odd patchwork of personalities, and McCann's narrative celebrates the threads that connect them: hard work, longtime friendship, forgiveness of small slights, and showing up, especially in unexpected ways. --Katie Noah Gibson, blogger at Cakes, Tea and Dreams

In Brain Damage by Freida McFadden (The Divorce; The Tenant), Charly McKenna is thriving professionally and personally. Rewarding work as a successful dermatologist, a luxury apartment overlooking Central Park, and a loving cat compose her picture-perfect life. When a handsome patient asks her on a date, Charly is wholly uninterested in adding something new to her hard-earned and well-curated lifestyle. But his undeniable charm, good looks, and persistence eventually win out, resulting in a whirlwind romance and marriage, and Charly's life appears to only get better. Then she is shot in the head. Unable to remember who tried to kill her and why, Charly's slow and unsteady rehabilitation holds the perfect amount of suspicion and suspense.

As Charly relearns who she is and how to function in her new, distorted reality, unsettling memories slowly return, forming a tension-filled psychological thriller. Her perfect-on-paper and out-of-her-league husband has a multitude of secrets; a patient is seemingly stalking her; and a former patient's ex-husband blames Charly for his divorce. McFadden skillfully builds anticipation while Charly recovers in a rehabilitation center with almost no visits from her husband and a growing conviction that someone close to her pulled the trigger.

McFadden also highlights Charly's genuine connections with the other patients at the center and how she finds humor and strength through them. McFadden's expertise as a physician specializing in brain injuries, well-known wit, and masterful grasp of heart-pounding twists are in full effect in the exhilarating Brain Damage. --Clara Newton, freelance reviewer

Emily Skaja's second poetry collection, Black Lake, is a wry yet moving record of infertility at a turbulent point in history.

Skaja (Brute) depicts cycles of anticipation and angst as she longs for motherhood. "I wanted an uncomplicated joy," but hope keeps being dashed. She found that "grief is a circle" of "Growing the baby. Losing the baby./ Trying again. Years of this." She remains self-deprecating rather than self-pitying, however. One miscarriage occurred at a Memphis plant nursery across the street from a women's clinic, leading to the punning poem title "Plant Parenthood." Continuing that metaphorical association between flora and babies, she highlights the irony that unwanted plants--like poison ivy and cucumbers--flourish, whereas desired ones wither.

Multiple poems reference the black lake, a symbol of sorrow in striking contrast with the red of blood loss. Another series is entitled "It's the stage of grief where..." (finishing, e.g., "[I become trapped in November]"). But the 41 poems also move beyond individual experience into the disheartening realities of world events. Skaja was a regular at the "all-night diner of depression" before the 2016 U.S. presidential election, she jokes, "when suddenly a whole crowd of people/ joined me." There are satirical poems about billionaires controlling the weather and dead dictators fertilizing the soil the same as anyone else. The absurd imagery in "Anxiety Dreams" ("Someone gave me thirty lions a year ago/ & I just remembered they're upstairs") is reminiscent of Caroline Bird.

Black Lake is a radiant blend of the personal and the political, of heartbreak and hilarity. --Rebecca Foster, freelance reviewer, proofreader, and blogger at Bookish Beck

Historian Timothy W. Ryback (Takeover) captures the frenetic, frightening speed of Adolf Hitler's political blitzkrieg that ended Germany's democratic experiment in 53 Days. When Hitler was appointed German chancellor in 1933, one of the most shocking transformations in the history of democracy was set in motion: his single-minded destruction of a "constitutional republic through constitutional means."

In this concise and step-by-step account, Ryback traces how Hitler declared "war on his own government" and, as chancellor, systematically dismantled the democratic institutions, legal safeguards, and political processes that stood between him and absolute power. The first democratic pillar to crumble was freedom of the press, as Hitler instituted an emergency decree under Article 48 of the constitution banning newspapers "critical of the new government." Next was the purge of the Prussian bureaucracy and the diminution of states' rights in the federated areas. But it was the Reichstag fire in February 1933 that offered Hitler the "singular opportunity to suspend civil liberties and impose Reich authority."

Ryback's narrative possesses an eerie verisimilitude in parallel with developments in the 21st-century U.S. and reads like a warning of how democracy can provide the means for its own destruction. Ironically, Hitler understood "better than his political opponents, or even the framers of the constitution itself" that the government expressed the will of the people, whom he manipulated so deftly as an enemy of democracy. 53 Days is a breathless, cogent, and timely analysis of Hitler's ascent to dictator. --Peggy Kurkowski, freelance book reviewer in Denver

University of Pennsylvania classical studies professor Emily Wilson received considerable critical praise and popular attention for her translations of Homer's Iliad and Odyssey (and her criticism of Christopher Nolan's film). In the 13 erudite and lively essays that compose Crossing the Wine-Dark Sea, she reveals the complexities of the translator's art while simultaneously conducting a stimulating tour of Greek and Roman literature.

Starting from "The Pleasures of Translation," Wilson makes clear that literary translation involves much more than simply rendering ancient Greek or Latin into serviceable English prose. One recurring theme is the decision facing the translator about whether to preserve a work's poetic meter. The collection's most technical piece is its last, "Translating the Odyssey." In it, Wilson takes readers inside the translator's workshop to reveal how "we dance different ways along the tightrope." She selects several brief passages from Homer's work and then analyzes the strikingly different ways translators from the 17th century to the present have delivered them to English-language readers. Wilson's essays also travel deeply into the works of writers such as Sappho, Catullus, and Aeschylus, exploring subjects that include female sexuality, Roman humor, and slavery in the ancient world.

Wilson concludes with a brief but helpful afterword containing 20 principles that direct her own practice as well as her evaluation of the translations of others. For her, "the project--of devoting your life to these great texts, of bringing them to life in new ways for new generations--is always worth it." Anyone who's been exposed to Wilson's work will learn much from the insights of these essays and will hope her journey as a trusted guide through this distant world continues. --Harvey Freedenberg, freelance reviewer

A Thousand Nights is a gripping, expansive, Arabian Nights-inspired YA anthology. These 15 dazzling short stories, written by BIPOC women and framed by editors Nafiza Azad (Road of the Lost) and Intisar Khanani (Thorn), highlight those forced to flee their homelands in the face of colonialism, oppression, and war.

At 17, Nusaybah loses the last of her family, burying her mother next to her grandfather under an olive tree, with no imam, prayers at the mosque, or fellow mourners; her father and brothers were conscripted by the Muhtaleen long ago. Nusaybah leaves the family Quran with a neighbor for safekeeping and begins to cross the desert to find a new home. As she journeys, she meets other young people and, to pass the time, they tell stories of the people and homes they have each been forced to leave behind. Nusaybah tells of a girl stolen by a jinn and emancipated by herself in "Your Marvi" by Zeba Shahnaz; Khawla, Nusaybah's first companion, begins her tale ("For Bread and Olives" by Ream Shukairy) "with the words the storyteller in my village always used: Once there was and twice there was not...."

The framework in which the refugees' stories--about djinn, Naga, rukh (a legendary bird of prey)--is embedded in Nusaybah's and her companions' trek. The collected narratives feel authentic to Azad and Khanani's frame tale as the authors rework myths and legends from around the Middle East and Asia. This anthology is a beautiful testament to the human spirit, and the power of hope and imagination in the face of unspeakable choices. --Michelle Anya Anjirbag, freelance reviewer

Traitors' Nest by Frances Hardinge (The Forest of a Thousand Eyes; Deeplight) is an enthralling, action-filled YA medieval fantasy about common folk who are mere pawns in a game played by godlike beings.

"In a place that is not a place, people who are no longer people play a game," a chesslike game in which castles (and those who live within them) are moved by unknowable superhumans called "Players." Fifteen-year-old Burr and his fellow villagers in a quiet valley in the kingdom of Thaletal have never experienced the "Great Game," as their brown castle always stays put--until it doesn't. In its place appears a red castle, then a gray one that "hated, with every chill inch of its stones." The gray castle's residents, who were at war when their castle moved, are "haggard, hungry... like feral dogs," and take some of the villagers hostage. Burr leads a group to infiltrate and capture the castle--only for it to jump to a new location. Now Burr and his "band of rebels" must figure out how to take charge of the Game so they can return home.

Hardinge once again delivers an outstandingly creative and unusual fantasy novel populated with sympathetic characters and powers beyond understanding. She deftly meditates on trust, community, and the fragility of life, as she builds a deeply textured world with immersive scenes of grandeur. Through Burr, Hardinge adeptly examines what it means to accept one's lot in life and also be intrigued by possibility. This medieval fantasy is a fully realized, spirited adventure and an excellent read-alike for teen fans of Garth Nix or Leigh Bardugo. --Lana Barnes, freelance reviewer and proofreader

The Bulgarian picture book When I Want to Be Silent by author Zornitsa Hristova and artist Kiril Zlatkov uses spare, poetic text (translated by Angela Rodel) and a series of sublime grayscale illustrations to create a remarkably effective meditation on words and silence.

An introspective bear peeks out from the book's gutter to speak directly to readers: "When I was little,/ grown-ups showed me words,/ so I'd have somewhere/ to put my things." Zlatkov introduces a fantastical, whimsical element with floating foods, boxes, and jars standing in for said "things." The bear admits "I like words" but notes, while despairingly bent over a book, that "not everything fits in them." There's no room, for example, "for someone's dream you're trying to hear"; for music (as depicted by the spread of a magnificently rendered bird's open beak); for light; "and for some other things, too." The bear knows words are supposed to make a person stronger, but they're afraid they might "hide something important in them and never find it again." So, the bear wisely insists, "Listen to me/ when I am silent,/ and you'll hear it."

Hristova and Zlatkov have created an earnest work with a vast message that is perhaps best suited for older children. The gentle text is heartfelt, and the graceful black-and-white illustrations are detailed and realistic. It's the elements of fantasy in the exquisite art, though, that allow the limitless nature of the imaginations depicted to seem real. When I Want to Be Silent begs readers to listen beyond words and is a title worthy of quiet, dreamy contemplation. --Lynn Becker, reviewer, blogger, and children's book author