Colm Toibin's "The Magician", may target a more intelligent or informed audience than yours truly. It takes kernels of truth from the life of German novelist Thomas Mann and tells fictionalized tales from 1881-1950.

For many reasons, Germany was a tumultuous place to be at several times during this day. Few speak as much about their role in World War I, for example, but Toibin does not gloss over the experience.
Mann's family is huge, which makes character development problematic as we often talk about them and forget what they have done. Three major characters also bear the name of Klaus and you may get lost.
Still, I admire the way Toibin explores the Hitler Era in ways that would burden homosexuals, writers, and refugees. When you flee Hitler's Germany, how could you maintain your heritage while seeking safer pastures?

Those with greater knowledge of Mann's work and scholars who study German history would have more to say. Still, Toibin succeeds in finding out what Mann would have said, done, and felt. What a setting this must have been.

"The Phone Booth at the Edge of the World" by Laura Imai Messina tells a fictional story about a real place. In Japan, someone set up a "wind phone," an unhooked device designed to communicate with lost loved ones after the tsunami.

The main character, Yui, often brings herself to the garden, but it takes her a long while to gather up the courage to communicate with her departed daughter and mother. Finally, she meets Takeshi, a doctor who lost his wife and whose daughter has refused to speak since her mother's passing.

Grief, as we all know, is a journey and the author makes it a point to show how that path differs for everyone. Yui's journey is the stuff of the novel. Could she accept someone new in her life after having her peace ripped away?

After readings tons of books like this, I should have expected romance to become a factor. At first, you fight it as predictable but then realize that allowing someone else in is an inevitable part of the process.
In the shortest 400 pages I read, I felt like I was experiencing Yui and Takeshi's pain. The hardest thing for an author is to find hope in tragedy, and Messina leaves you feeling able to confront any hardship.

"Project Hail Mary" by Andy Weir only suffers from comparisons to other books of its genre. If you have recently seen "Arrival" or "The Shape of Water," you expect a much different story.
Unlike most book flaps, this reveals very little to the reader before they enjoy it. It stated that a man wakes up on a spaceship, unaware of how he got there. That will contact you to about page 50. After that, you have much more to discover, and I think Weir wants you to do that on your own.

However, the novel excels in pontificating about our responsibility to save humanity, our ability to coexist with other lifeforms, and the scientific, and moral difficulties that a space traveler would face. It makes you think.
Your knowledge of physics and engineering will significantly influence how you read. Some will try to solve the problems, while others (read: me) will thank Weir for thinking for them. Astrophysics is no joke.

Usually, I get nervous when Hollywood gets a hold of a great novel, but I cannot wait to see these visuals on film. Of course, science fiction can exist as action capers, but the best work also has philosophical leanings. This adds up to the best novel I have read this year.

“Bewilderment” by Richard Powers only has one flaw: it is not “The Overstory," his sweeping epic combined stories about trees to meditate on the importance of all living things. Instead, an astrobiologist must raise a son, who may be on the Spectrum, on his own and appreciate his quirks, resulting in many moments that appreciate nature.

Powers has a knowledge of science and the world that few authors have; however, he paints his protagonist, Theo, with such a familiar brush that you relate to him even if his studies escape you and you need to Google a few things. Hearing about tales from the cosmos and his mother’s environmental studies through the lens of neurodiversity makes it thought-provoking.

When you use a university as a backdrop and throw in the elements of psychology associated with a highly diagnosed son, you work your readers’ minds without necessarily trying to influence them. The real action takes place in Robin’s mind, where you see an emergency as he does, and you admire the boy’s dedication to tasks that seem too large for us to make a difference.

The author made a unique choice, and I am obsessed with its meaning: he writes Robin’s, Theo’s son’s, statements in italics with no quotation marks while keeping the declarations of others in the traditional grammatical structure. I did not understand it for a while, but it shows how empathic his thoughts are and how intense they seem to typically-developing minds. You hang on to Robin’s every word as a result.

The finished product relates to a chorus of single parenthood, science fiction, astrobiology (I had no idea that career existed, but it does), environmental consciousness, and child psychology. Part of it may go over your head if you do not “know” science, but you relate to the characters enough to go along for the ride. I enjoyed what it made me think about as much as it had to say. Powers is a genius, in case his first book did not convince you as much as it did me.
(Note: the ending is a doozy. Please read it and discuss it with me. I am writing this while still processing it. )