In an unnamed dream country, the young man Cincinnatus C. is condemned to death by beheading for "gnostical turpitude", an imaginary crime that defies definition. Cincinnatus spends his final days in an absurd jail, where he is visited by chimerical jailers, an executioner who masquerades as a fellow prisoner, and by his in-laws, who lug their furniture with them into his prison cell.

    The first half of this posthumously published novel describes George's evolution from small-town southern boy to struggling New York novelist and attempts to answer the brooding protagonist's question, "What is it that a young man wants?" The second half is devoted to his tempestuous affair with a sophisticated married woman. Ultimately, George, repulsed by the frivolous lifestyle of his wealthy mistress and her circle, retreats to Europe. But, once again, his idealism is shattered as Hitler rises to power in Germany. Disillusioned, George dreams of returning to the South of his childhood but realizes that "you can't go home again."

    The mighty saga of three generations cursed by a bloodstained fortune, set in the 19th century.

    Set in the turbulent Germany of the Weimar Republic, it goes on, equally dramatically, to describe the lives of the children and their families until 1933 when the Nazis came to power. 'What is so unusual,' wrote the playwright Berthold Viertel in 1938, 'is the way the novel contrasts the children's community - in all its idealism, romanticism, decency and enchantment - with the madhouse community of the adults.'

    When his play flops, the upright and uptight Abbott is undaunted, eventually returning to Ohio and persuading Prudence to join him there to take up a life of drudgery as mate to this always self-serious artist. Prudence, needless to say, finally escapes back to the city and her circle of friends, the disparate characters who give the book its true texture and, wrote one reviewer at the time, "are involved in such a series of promiscuities, adulteries, double-crossings, neo-perversions and Krafft-Ebbing exercises as would make the towns of Sodom and Gomorrah seem like mere suburbs of li’l old New York." The Happy Island has had its admirers over the years (Gore Vidal called this one of his favorite Powell novels), and to be found here are surely some of Powell’s most biting one-liners. But the book may not be for every taste, and the succinct notice that appeared in The New Yorker upon first publication might stand as a warning to some readers: "Night-club life of New York. Plenty of heavy drinking, perfumed love affairs, and in general the doings of a pretty worthless and ornery lot of people. Miss Powell serves it up with a dash of wit and for good measure throws in a couple of boys named Bert and Willy, who nearly steal the show from the main characters."

    Set in an elite European bank in the 1930s, Stead’s epic spans the interwar years of a money-hungry Paris. Jules Bertillon, the distrustful and unpredictable bank director, sees every national disaster—including war—as an opportunity for riches. Adored by his clients for his ability to rake in staggering profits, Bertillon leaves no opening wasted—even if it means dealing with unsavory speculators or ruthless gamblers while his clients suffer the consequences. A stunning page-turner, House of All Nations is as significant and resonant today as it was upon its publication in 1938.