Melissa Rivero’s novel The Affairs of the Falcons showcases the desperation of illegal immigrants in the United States. It centers on Ana and her family who have come to New York in order to escape terrorism in Peru and to build a better life for themselves and their children. Although Ana works in a factory and her husband Lucho drives a taxicab, the money provides a mere subsistence, and when emergencies arise Ana becomes desperate and makes decisions that create greater problems. The novel follows a storyline that is familiar to readers of novels about immigrants—the betrayal by family members, the secrets, the reliance on shady characters, the necessary risks. Although the narrative contains no surprises, it does enable the reader to learn new and unfamiliar Spanish terms and thus enriches one’s understanding of immigrant culture.

John Boyne's novel A Ladder to the Sky is a fictional study of the vagaries of the publishing industry. The novel's main character Maurice Swift badly wants to be a writer but lacks the requisite imagination and skills. He must therefore resort to stealing the work of others, and this process provides the central theme. The cast of minor characters, some notable authors you may recognize, lends credence to the novel's theme and will keep you turning pages. Because Boyne depicts the publishing industry as particularly nasty business, if you entertain the notion of becoming a published author, maybe you shouldn't read this novel. But then again, maybe you should.

Sebastian Faulks's latest novel Paris Echo combines World War II history and contemporary Parisian culture. Main character Hannah has come to Paris to study the recordings of French women under Nazi occupation. There she meets Tariq a young Moroccan refuge who is in Paris illegally. While he lives in her flat, both he and she learn much about the other and about Paris during the Nazi occupation. The novel demonstrates through the two characters' encounters how wars fought in the past impact current events and attitudes. Reading the novel reminds the reader of William Faulkner's statement that the past is never dead.

Luis Alberto Urrea's The House of Broken Angels is a novel as large and large-hearted as the Mexican-American family it depicts. Ostensibly it is about two days in the life of the family's dying patriarch Big Angel--his mother's funeral and his last birthday party. But it also highlights the sadness and joy of each character in Big Angel's extended family. In this novel Urrea demonstrates the great hopes and losses of Chicanos who have moved north across the border. The novel should be read by anyone who wants to understand the ambiguity of the immigrant experience in general and the Mexican-American experience in particular.

In The Twelve-Mile Straight Eleanor Henderson captures the zeitgeist of depression era rural Georgia. Amidst a myriad of characters over-determined by their time and place are the protagonists Elma and Nan, both striving against great odds to take charge of their lives. The novel is their story. Henderson touches on medical issues significant at the time--polio, sickle cell disease, and blood typing. Her major theme, however, is the intersection and interdependence of the black and white characters, and ultimately the arbitrariness of racial distinctions. The novel, not an easy read, is nevertheless well worth the reader's effort.

Stieg Larsson changed the way readers view female sleuths when he introduced the unforgettable Lisbeth Salander. More recently Taylor Stevens follows the model with her character Vanessa Michael Munroe, motorcycle rider and world-traveling mercenary. These hardnosed anti-heroines are damaged, tough, practical, smart, and, yes, admirable. Unfortunately Melissa Scrivener Love's character Lola (also the title of the novel) doesn't quite measure up. Growing up in Huntington Park Los Angeles with a drug-addicted mother, Lola necessarily learns survival skills early. By virtue of her ability to kill swiftly and unsuspectingly, she becomes the de facto head of a small-time barrio gang. But in the end Lola is trapped by her ghetto mentality. I wanted to admire Lola's qualities—her street smarts, her protection of young Lucy, her ability to thrive within her environment. Yet I left the novel knowing that although Lola's skills enabled her to survive the rough streets of Huntington Park, she would not persevere in the larger world.

The Typewriter's Tale is an enjoyable novel especially for readers who know something of the famous James siblings—Henry, William, and Alice. In the process of rewriting his novels for a new edition, Henry James is one of the novel's central characters. The author of The Typewriter's Tale Michiel Heyns gives the word "typewriter" two meanings—the machine itself as well as the person who takes dictation and types for a living. That character is Frieda Wroth from whose point of view the novel is told. As Mr. James's "typewriter," she is privy to the everyday occurrences in the household, including the entertaining of Henry's guests. Thus the reader gets acquainted not only with the habits of Henry James but also those of his frequent guests, Edith Wharton, Morton Fullerton, and finally Hugh Walpole. We learn about Henry's problems with the publishing industry, about the eating habits of several members of the James family, and about how Frieda's spiritualism operates via the machine as she imagines conversations with Morton Fullerton. The novel is not fast paced yet is a compelling read.

In writing this important cultural history of Paris under Nazi occupation, Anne Sebba has assumed the task of uncovering events that many people who lived through them would rather forget. Her research covers secondary as well as primary sources such as letters, interviews, diaries, and other documents. The book is organized chronologically, introducing characters early and then picking up their stories in later chapters. This organization places on the reader the responsibility of establishing coherence and makes for difficult reading. Nevertheless, the book significantly covers territory that has been largely ignored by traditional histories.