NCLR shares a Saturday Review Post weekly: usually a book review from the most recent or forthcoming online issue, but sometimes, in recognition of current events, from a back issue.
“The core of What a Wonderful Life This Could Be is humanity’s need for the safe harbor and connection of love – for community and purposeful vocation and for some form of family, even if not biological.”
“Grimsley’s allusions to multiple sorts of 1970s queerness evidence his continued interest in parallel times and in terms that evoke the slippery and shifting interpretations and possibilities in our world….”
“These poems give moving and powerful testimony to what Carolyn Forché calls ‘the poetry of witness’ – a ritual act of reconciliation through language; a renewed sense of shared humanity and righteous resistance; and, perhaps most importantly, a sacred vow to never forget.”
Reviewer Heather Bell Adams says about his latest novel that “The reader is invited to speculate about the source of Connor’s discontent by assembling pieces of the puzzle from artfully arranged vignettes told in Whisnant’s crisp, muscular prose.”
“Powell’s descriptions of place are quite lyrical. He obviously knows the landscape he gives us
in western North Carolina and southern Virginia. He has a way of taking the readers right to the spot and immersing us in the culture, landscape, and people.”
“Erica Plouffe Lazure could write about anything. She could capture any time, place, person. That she chose to write about people in North Carolina is a gift…”
McFadyen walks through two poetry collections, noting how “in their debut poetry collections, Alana Dagenhart and Cheryl Wilder survey death, tragedy, and family bonds with unwavering frankness.”
Entzminger astutely points out that “One of the best aspects of the novel is this strong, believable, and fully developed female narrator, Abby Lovett, who is not seeking, nor does she find, a romantic partner.” How refreshing in today’s entertainment.
Colley also points out that “By utilizing a Southern setting reminiscent of many American spaces, the novel somewhat radically stresses the similarities rather than the differences between the South and a broader culture.” In so doing, the book becomes accessible to everyone.
Miller posits “[the] connections emphasize the Faulknerian theme of Southern literature that the past is never fully gone. As past decisions and tragedies continue to reverberate, the very landscape contains a history of trauma.”