LONGLISTED FOR THE INTERNATIONAL BOOKER PRIZE

A Leopard-Skin Hat may be the French writer Anne Serre's most moving novel yet. Hailed in Le Point as a masterpiece of simplicity, emotion and elegance, it is the story of an intense friendship between the Narrator and his close childhood friend, Fanny, who suffers from profound psychological disorders. A series of short scenes paints the portrait of a strong-willed and tormented young woman battling many demons, and of the narrator's loving and anguished attachment to her. Anne Serre poignantly depicts the bewildering back and forth between hope and despair involved in such a relationship, while playfully calling into question the very form of the novel. Written in the aftermath of the death of the author's little sister, A Leopard-Skin Hat is both the celebration of a tragically foreshortened life and a valedictory farewell, written in Anne Serre's signature style.

Perfect for fans of Maggie Shipstead's Great Circle and The Lincoln Highway by Amor Towles

Eastbound is both an adventure story and a duet of two vibrant inner worlds.

In mysterious, winding sentences gorgeously translated by Jessica Moore, De Kerangal gives us the story of two unlikely souls entwined in a quest for freedom with a striking sense of tenderness, sharply contrasting the brutality of the surrounding world.

Racing toward Vladivostok, we meet the young Aliocha, packed onto a Trans-Siberian train with other Russian conscripts. Soon after boarding, he decides to desert and over a midnight smoke in a dark corridor of the train, he encounters an older French woman, Hélène, for whom he feels an uncanny trust.

A complicity quickly grows between the two when he manages to urgently ask--through a pantomime and basic Russian that Hélène must decipher--for her help to hide him. They hurry from the filth of his third-class carriage to Hélène's first-class sleeping car. Aliocha now a hunted deserter and Hélène his accomplice with her own inner landscape of recent memories to contend with.

Claire Baglin's On the Clock packs a family saga, a penetrating picture of social inequality, and a coming-of-age story into a compact tale told in two alternating strands. The first follows the 20-year-old narrator's summer job at a fast food franchise and the other shows us moments from her childhood with her family, with a particular focus on her hapless, infuriating, good-hearted father, a low-paid but devoted electrician in a factory with an upside-down smile. These two skeins sketch out in swift turns two stories of underappreciated work: one covering several decades, the other a summer; one constituting a sort of life, the other a stopgap on the way to something different (the narrator is a college student). With a keen eye for eloquent details and sharp ear for workplace jargon, her dry humor, and a crisp compelling style, Baglin's depiction of their lives is particularly rich, at once affectionate and alienated. Working the alternating strands in a way reminiscent of Georges Perec's W or the The Memory of Childhood, the past is remarkably vivid in On the Clock: her childhood memories of their bleak small town and of summer vacations spent at campgrounds by the sea in Brittany. And the present blazes in scenes of the young woman's current fast-food trial: the awful boss, the nasty manager, and all the tedium and horror of dead-end work:

Slowly the oven door opens and a nursery-school tune announces that the salad rolls can come out [and] I'm mired in the heart of pointlessness. I stick a straw into the whipped cream but don't take off the end of the paper wrapper so they'll know it hasn't been used, I'm conscientious.

An unforgettable story about an unlikely friendship and about healing the wounds of a broken past from the million-copy bestselling author of Fresh Water for Flowers

Justine is 21 years old and has lived with her grandparents and her cousin Jules since the death of her parents. As a nursing assistant at a retirement home, she spends much of her days listening to her residents' stories.

After bonding with Hélène, an almost 100-year-old resident, the two women slowly reveal their stories to one another. Whilst Justine helps Hélène to relive her memories of love and war, Hélène encourages Justine to confront the secrets of her own past, and the loss she keeps buried deep within.

One day, a mysterious phone detailing a shocking revelation shakes the retirement home to its core. At once humorous and melancholic, Valérie Perrin's novel depicts the consequences of undeclared love and, in her inimitable way, portrays once again how the past is never really past.

De Kerangal's masterful collection examines alienation and grief at pivotal moments in her characters' lives . . . Each story is richly complex, and the collection's recurring canoe imagery gives it the feel of a treasure map . . . This understated volume packs a powerful punch. -- Publishers Weekly, starred review

Ricocheting off of the book's exhilarating central novella and 7 short stories, the women we meet in Canoes are by turns indelibly witty, insightful, intimate, bracing, and profoundly interconnected.

When did I start placing myself in the fable? a young Parisian wonders as she tells her son the legend of Buffalo Bill, a spectral presence atop the mountain in their small Colorado town. She has just moved to the United States and everything disorients her - suburbs stretching along reptilian highways, a new house rigged like a studio set, but most of all, the sound of her husband's voice. Sam speaks with a different tone in English, not the soft and swift timbre of his native French. From a voice made new, Maylis de Kerangal opens up a torrent of curiosities, hauntings, and questions about place and language.

The women of these stories are mad about: stones, molds of human jaws, voicemail recordings, sonic waves, UFOs, and always how the texture of human voice entwines with their obsessions. With cosmic harmonics, vivid imagery, and a revelatory composition, Canoes will leave readers forever altered.

A biographical historical fiction retelling of Ho Chi Minh's immigration and radical life in underground Paris in the 1920s

Fleeing persecution in Indochina, the young Ho Chi Minh arrived in Paris as World War I was sputtering to a close. A painfully shy twentysomething who stammered when he spoke in public, he joined the shadowy figures of the demimonde, the radicals, poor artists, prostitutes, the luckless, and rebellious.

Six years later, he boarded a train bound for the young Soviet Union as the fiery, passionate leader of the Vietnamese independence movement and a founder of the French Communist Party. He had lived under various pseudonyms in a succession of seedy apartments. There had been arrests and beatings, jobs in restaurants and photo shops, revolutionary writing in the Bibliotheque Nationale, and meetings with Chaplin and Colette, all while being dogged by French spies--much of what we know about the young man's Paris years is thanks to that surveillance, down to accounts of arguments he had with friends at home.

Searching for traces of the past in the streets of today, Joseph Andras hears echoes of other angry histories, from terror attacks to tent encampments to the protests of the Gilets jaunes. This intensely lyrical, genre-bending book is a meditation on what could be called the grandeur of the poor, the free, the outcast, and the rebellious--people who might not find a place in history books but without whom history could not be written.

Fans of Jean-Patrick Manchette's deadpan irony will appreciate Command Performance, Echenoz's vibrant, playful homage to the hard-boiled genre, which plays like The Big Lebowski on the Seine. --Publishers Weekly

Gerard Fulmard is a loser. A disgraced former flight attendant, he attempts the métier of private detective, with spectacularly disastrous results, then begins working for an obscure political groupuscule beset by an outsized share of infighting and backroom maneuvering. At first employed as an enforcer, Fulmard is then co-opted by one of the party's less savory factions, sinking in deeper and deeper until he finds himself the reluctant assassin of the party's own leader--and that's when things really start going downhill. Meanwhile, projectiles crash down from the sky, corpses turn up in perfect health, main characters suffer sudden death, and nothing is as it seems.

In Command Performance, Jean Echenoz, one of France's most respected contemporary writers, toys with the tropes of genre fiction and high literature, displaying the twists of plot and turns of phrase that have become his signature, and that have made him, in the words of The Washington Post, the most distinctive voice of his generation and the master magician of the contemporary French novel.

WINNER OF THE 2024 FRENCH-AMERICAN FOUNDATION TRANSLATION PRIZE

LONGLISTED FOR THE 2024 NATIONAL TRANSLATION AWARD IN PROSE

To research his thesis on contemporary agrarian life, anthropology student David Mazon moves from Paris to La Pierre-Saint-Christophe, a village in the marshlands of western France. Determined to understand the essence of the local culture, the intrepid young scholar scurries around restlessly on his moped to interview residents.

But what David doesn't yet know is that here, in this seemingly ordinary place, once the stage for wars and revolutions, Death leads a dance: when one thing perishes, the Wheel of Life recycles its soul and hurls it back into the world as microbe, human, or wild animal, sometimes in the past, sometimes in the future. And once a year, Death and the living observe a temporary truce during a gargantuan three-day feast where gravediggers gorge themselves on food, drink, and language.

Brimming with Mathias Énard's characteristic wit and encyclopedic brilliance, The Annual Banquet of the Gravediggers' Guild is a riotous novel where the edges between past and present are constantly dissolving against a Rabelaisian backdrop of excess.

Giono's very own Moby-Dick, a sensational maritime journey that follows a crew inwards on a spiritual tale of evocative sea-glimpses

An allegorical critique of modern civilization and the damages of war, Giono's oft-overlooked seafaring tale sweeps the reader along a narrative as poetic and undulating as the wind, tacking between the sea's mysteries and the intricacies of the men's conversations and inner thoughts as they attempt to grasp the sensory reality around them.

I no longer have any interest in living under the conditions that this era allows, writes the Captain of L'Indien, a ship whose radio remains packed in a crate in the hold. The men aboard won't be needing it; they have no interest in connecting with the world of ordinary men. With enough provisions to last them five years, they set sail in July of 1940 for the South Seas, leaving civilization behind in search of the unknown.

Hastening onwards, Giono's men steer deeper into themselves, seeking a purpose beyond the world in upheaval they left behind--a moving and spiritual work written by one of Europe's most ardent 20th-century pacifists.

A sensational novel that delves into the unknown reaches of the sea and soul, perfect for readers seeking a poetic escape that challenges the political and social status-quo.

Fowl Eulogies is an absurd fairy tale for the ethical carnivore, fiction of perfect madness, of brutal and unprecedented humor. From the meadow to the supermarket, this dazzling first novel of mischief and feathers, brings to life the singular poetry of the industrial chicken.

Upon her mother's death, Paule Rojas, a vegetarian city-dweller, returns to the chicken farm where she grew up. Pressured to fulfil her mother's last request, Paule rediscovers pleasure and meaning in running the old family business. Yet, eager to bring something of herself to a family tradition, Paule embarks on increasingly intricate ways of helping the chickens to self-actualize before their deaths. She records the chickens' life stories, adding them to the labels that decorate the vacuum-packed meat sent off to market--an individual biography for every chicken. But not all runs smooth in her childhood village; Paule finds she has few friends and many enemies. She is forced to spread her wings, relocate her livestock, and oversee the construction of an urban farm of never-before-seen practices and proportions.

A freaky tale of isolation and the porous membranes between us, Rebecca Gisler's slim novel renders a collapsing world with equal parts aversion, fascination, and tenderness--for readers of Ottessa Moshfegh and Sayaka Murata.

At an age when she'd rather be making her own way in the world, an unnamed young woman finds herself moving to a small town at the seaside to care for her uncle. He's a disabled war veteran with questionable habits, prone to drinking, gorging, and hoarding--not to mention the occasional excursion down into the plumbing, where he might disappear for days at a time. When the world starts to shut down, Uncle and his niece become closer than ever. She knows his every move--every bathroom break he takes, every pill he swallows--and finds herself relying more and more on this strange man, her only company in a shrinking world. But then Uncle's health takes a turn for the worse: He's sent to a hospital that cares for cats, dogs, and Uncles, and any way for her to make sense of this eerie new reality, and her place within it, falls apart.

Poet-novelist Rebecca Gisler's debut novel, set against our increasingly disjointed world, welcomes readers into a home of shut-ins as cozy as it is claustrophobic. Gisler's bright, winding prose, masterfully translated from French by Jordan Stump, offers a rare witness to the complex ways in which we order our lives, for better or worse, inside and out.

An unforgettable story about an unlikely friendship and about healing the wounds of a broken past from the million-copy bestselling author of Fresh Water for Flowers

Justine is 21 years old and has lived with her grandparents and her cousin Jules since the death of her parents. As a nursing assistant at a retirement home, she spends much of her days listening to her residents' stories. 

After bonding with Hélène, an almost 100-year-old resident, the two women slowly reveal their stories to one another. Whilst Justine helps Hélène to relive her memories of love and war, Hélène encourages Justine to confront the secrets of her own past, and the loss she keeps buried deep within. One day, a mysterious phone detailing a shocking revelation shakes the retirement home to its core.

At once humorous and melancholic, Valérie Perrin's novel depicts the consequences of undeclared love and, in her inimitable way, portrays once again how the past is never really past.

Fabre's ability to act as a discreet megaphone of the man in the crowd (Elle Magazine) will take you by surprise and leave an immutable mark on your heart.

Edgar loves nothing more than listening to the birds in the trees, the squeaking of moles in nearby chalk quarries, the conversations trickling out of the carpeted offices surrounding his favorite park in the suburbs of Paris. He also listens to the hushed conversations of passersby, strangers who whisper that he is not all there. But what constitutes the supposedly insufficient character of Edgar's interior life?

Dominique Fabre gives himself over to Edgar's way of seeing, his sensitivity, his innocence and wisdom, his longings and perceptions, his tentative interpolations into the social fabric of 1960s France, and in each passage we find a stirring answer.

A still life in motion, Second Star consumes the present with a patient curiosity, asking us to put off tomorrow and join Philippe Delerm in tasting, touching, listening, and noticing.

Whether biting into a bitter turnip or savoring a summer evening in June, Philip Delerm's literary snapshots transport us to simple, often overlooked sensations and pleasures, and, pausing, expand a moment or emotion outwards in concentric circles.

Vividly translated by Jody Gladding, these evocative vignettes invite us to linger, to savor the few moments of silence--as if each bite of a ripe watermelon, each exhaled breath on a bitterly cold day, each cloudy evening on the beach, were our last.

The ugly side of superheroes

What if you suddenly had superpowers? What would you do? How would your friends and family react? What would your obligations to society be?

The superheroes' first missions- combating terrorists or rescuing disaster victims-- are a boon to France. Yet while these actions bring the country pride, unity quickly starts to unravel. These superheroes, ultimately, are human. Paparazzi are everywhere. One has an affair with another's wife. Another questions following the government's imperialist agenda. Meanwhile the public carps on social media. Molia takes our fascination with superheroes and adds a cutting portrayal of contemporary social mores to create an entertaining and disturbing work with deep dystopian underpinnings.

I'm under twenty-five and I am unable to envision the future. I'm not the only one.

A singular voice of the French Bataclan Generation-those most acutely conscious of the terrorist attacks in the mid-2010s--grappling with issues of memory or post-memory, trauma, and survivors' dilemmas.

​Survive ​is concerned with the work of grieving for strangers--a grief which does not begin or end, but is rather a structural part of one's being in the world. For Finkelstein, it is essential [t]o abide. Deep inside what is dying, in the midst of the bullets going astray and the offenses accumulating, in the midst of the misunderstandings imposed on a face other than my own, on a body other than my own...to build a world that thinks, a world that gives, a world that beats--a living world. Survive situates contemporary youth in a violence-saturated present with which they are all too familiar, yet from which many of them feel alienated in a plurality of difficult-to-define ways.

Frederika Amalia Finkelstein cuts across national and cultural contexts, from French to Argentinian to North American, touching on the challenge facing her generation: to understand their own lives as uniquely meaningful in the face of unending mass suffering.

Driver begins as a contemporary apprentice tale: the narrator, a young man from the provinces, comes to Paris and enrolls in a course to become a train driver. As he discovers the train and its workings, from its internal machinery to its operative head, he is transported into a world both technical and poetic, with its own laws and codes, its own specialized language, its heroes and legends, its passions and boredoms, its dangers.

Drawing from his experience of nearly two decades as a train driver, Mattia Felice constructs a propulsive narrative of meals scarfed down on the go, of solitude and sleepless nights, accidents and breakdowns, conversations with friends and solidarity with fellow workers. His train, like the ship in Moby-Dick, becomes a microcosm for life itself.

Driver is a book about work, about the romance of the rails, but also about the tedium and intensity of doing such a job day in and day out, as well as the workers' continual struggle to improve their working conditions through strikes and protests.

The language of Driver is as eclectic and vibrant as the world the train workers inhabit: Filice's novel blends prose with verse, and brims with technical terms, inside jokes, abbreviations, quotations, and snatches of non-French languages spoken by the train workers. Unsentimental but full of feeling, wonderfully voiced and rhythmic, Driver is a stirring ode to the power of the collective.