What does it mean to love a homeland yet not be able to fully return? Eleftheriou asks in her book, and how can one express love for the same sex in a culture that doesn’t recognize its existence? How does one deal with the liberal privilege of labeling grief over such a cultural denial as inconsequential? Joanna’s insight into the dynamics of love and loss as one seeks a sense of belonging is moving and captivating and guided our conversation about her book.
Folklorn is a contemporary origin story that seamlessly weaves Korean folklore within a narrative of identity, migration, and home.
Despite everything, 2020 has been an exciting year that introduced us to wonderful new writers who will possibly be remembered as the greatest writers of our times.
June has officially come to an end, and I’ve decided to post my first wrap-up piece as I wait for my flight back home at O’Hare.
Children of War is one of the most important translated works released in 2020. Hassanaki’s story encourages us to resist the politics of demonization that breeds polarization and fear—fear of difference and of change.
As Angie Thomas asks, “What’s the point of having a voice if you’re gonna be silent in those moments you shouldn’t be?”
As a war narrative enveloped in magic, love, and hope, The Baghdad Clock adds depth to the burgeoning genre of postcolonial Iraqi novels.
This is home too, from which I’m writing a thank you letter to Who Wants to Be a Millionaire, I suppose? Who would have thought?