In this extraordinarily beautiful and deep short novel, author Cynan Jones follows four characters through a summer day on a draught-stricken farm in Wales. Gareth begins his day by checking on two cows that are due to give birth. He finds the first one in the barn, kneeling beside her stillborn calf, “lowing sadly and gently.”

Patrick Hamilton’s The Slaves of Solitude is set in a boarding house in the London suburb of Thames Lockdon during the winter of 1943. A number of Londoners have abandoned the city after the German blitz and taken up residence in the Rosamund Tea Rooms, where they live under the weight of the war and government-imposed nighttime blackouts.

C.S. Lewis’ allegory opens with the narrator, presumably a middle-aged Englishman, walking through the rainy streets of a city at dusk. He happens upon a line of bickering people waiting for a bus and, almost by accident, he’s in the queue, and then aboard the bus, not knowing where it’s bound.

Normally, I don’t read anything about vampires, the undead, or a zombie apocalypse because the tropes have become tired and worn out. However, the Literary Darkness group on Goodreads chose I Am Legend as its book of the month for August, 2017, and I’m glad I read it. When a book comes along and spawns a whole new genre, as this one did, it’s because the author did a really good good job in bringing a world to life, and he/she hit on some timeless themes in a new way. The problem with derivative works, like many of the vampire/zombie/apocalypse novels of the past decade, is that because readers are already so familiar with the tropes (thanks to the hard work of past writers), the authors don’t bother to flesh out their characters, worlds and scenes in the deep, visceral way that the originators of the genre had to do.

I’ve read many of Greene’s books, and this is the most powerful and intense of the lot. The book follows the travels of a priest on the run from a communist regime that has sworn to abolish religion, and has got rid of every priest in the state, either by execution or by forcing them to marry. The “whiskey priest” is the last in the state. He’s been on the run for years and is wearing down.

I picked this up off the library shelf after reading an article that praised it. I had difficulty with a few things in this book. Bowen’s writing can be uneven. I often lost the thread of a scene, a conversation, or an interaction. Her dialog can sometimes be long-winded. Eddie especially goes on at length. Sometimes there’s a disparity between what she says about her characters and how they actually present themselves through their words and actions. (For example, why does she keep calling Eddie innocent when he knows exactly how he’s manipulating people?)

This one starts off a little slowly, and as I reached the end of the first chapter, I started to think it might be the first Graham Greene novel I wasn’t going to like. I’m glad I stuck with it. This book builds quietly and subtly, and in the end has tremendous power, portraying tragedy on the scale of both the individual and the nation.

This brilliant and original book is deeply disturbing, and at times difficult to read because of its dark subject matter and its portrayal of violence, cruelty, and destruction. I won’t go too far into the plot, since the book summary and many other reviews cover that.

In short, a young man who has become alienated from his job, his culture and himself starts “fight club,” where guys take out their frustrations by beating the hell out of each other. After fight clubs spring up in a number of cities, the members start Project Mayhem, which is an attempt to force their violence on all of society and to destroy civilization itself through a series of small, vicious, petty, spiteful destructive acts.

I just finished reading Dierdre Madden’s Authenticity , which explores some topics that have been very much on my mind lately. The book looks at the lives of four artists in Dublin, around the year 2000. Roderic Kennedy is a successful painter in his late forties. “Successful” here means he’s able to practice his art full-time, keep a studio, and not starve. He has a little reputation and some respect among the local critics and patrons.

His brother, Dennis, has an artistic soul, which is to say, he’s sensitive and unusually attuned to and appreciative of beauty. He learned early on that he didn’t quite have the talent to fulfill his dream as a concert pianist, so he chose a career in a bank that would offer him a stable life.

This is one of the best novels I’ve ever read. Williams’ writing and insight are far above most of the writers we praise today. He is consistently deep and clear, driving directly to the heart of meaning. When I find books like this–and there are few in the world–it makes me wonder why so many people bother reading all the crap that’s out there. In fact, I had a hard time reading anything for several weeks after finishing this book, because everything else seemed so poor by comparison.