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Saturday, April 25, 2020

Come Again By Robert Webb Review – Entertaining Debut Novel, by Sam Leith, The Guardian

Robert Webb’s first book, the memoir How Not to Be a Boy, established that as well as being funny on the telly he could write both sensitively and well. His first novel confirms it: it’s well paced, nicely written and highly entertaining. It’s also a very rum concoction indeed – as if someone had sandwiched a David Nicholls novel in the middle of a comedy thriller, using a Tardis.

Little Eyes By Samanta Schweblin Review – Timely Visions Of A Virtual Reality, by Justine Jordan, The Guardian

Every technological innovation both changes its human users and uncovers something new about our nature. In this ingenious novel, Argentinian author Samanta Schweblin conducts an unnerving thought experiment: if an individual could be virtually inserted into the life of a random stranger, anywhere in the world, what effects would that have on them both? And what hidden truths would be revealed?

The Train Ride That Brought Lincoln To D.C. — And Introduced Him To The Nation, by Richard Moe, Washington Post

So much has been written about Abraham Lincoln that it’s rare when a historian discovers an episode in his life that, if fully developed and interpreted, yields important new insights. Ted Widmer has done just that in his superb new book, “Lincoln on the Verge: Thirteen Days to Washington.” It’s ostensibly about the train trip the president-elect took from Springfield, Ill., to the nation’s capital; it’s in fact about how Lincoln and his fellow Americans came to know and trust one another, an experience that profoundly shaped his presidency.

Patriotic, by Gina Olson, Consequence

I watch the eager baby run down the driveway
open mouth the only mark that the bird is a baby

Is This Not Why You Are Here?, by Michael Hurley, Guernica

My mother is unlearning the way to walk;
feels her hand with her other hand,
then drags her cheeks flat in the mirror
to smooth her frightened face.

The Gathering, by Dwayne Thorpe, Michigan Quarterly Review

Always I have been a cottonwood in May,
when the swollen pod
bursts and everywhere the air goes white,
all lawns returning