The novels were initially published separately, between 1964-1969.Main character is charismatic detective, Alexandru Tudor.

    This translation of his 1989 novel Nostalgia, writes Andrei Codrescu, "introduces to English a writer who has always had a place reserved for him in a constellation that includes the Brothers Grimm, Franz Kafka, Jorge Luis Borges, Bruno Schulz, Julio Cortazar, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Milan Kundera, and Milorad Pavic, to mention just a few." Like most of his literary contemporaries of the avant-garde Eighties Generation, his major work has been translated into several European languages, with the notable exception, until now, of English.Readers opening the pages of Nostalgia should brace themselves for a verbal tidal wave of the imagination that will wash away previous ideas of what a novel is or ought to be. Although each of its five chapters is separate and stands alone, a thematic, even mesmeric harmony finds itself in children's games, the music of the spheres, humankind's primordial myth-making, the origins of the universe, and in the dilapidated tenement blocks of an apocalyptic Bucharest during the years of communist dictatorship.

    Political prisoner Bruno Matei, a puppeteer of Italian ancestry, has been released from jail a broken man, suffering from amnesia. An uneasy relationship forms between Matei Brunul and Bojin, the secret policeman who keeps him under constant surveillance. Gradually, the secret police will try to remould Matei s mind by rewriting his past, turning the puppeteer into a puppet of the new totalitarian order. In parallel, a harrowing second narrative reveals Matei s prison experiences: the story of an innocent man physically and mentally crushed by the totalitarian system, which explodes the manipulative fictions of the secret police one by one. “. . . exquisitely comic and movingly tragic by turns, while its shifting perspectives in time and narrative point of view keep the reader constantly involved in the story. It is a remarkable achievement by a writer who was born in 1975 and had no personal experience of the era it describes, bearing comparison with classics of the genre such as Milan Kundera’s The Joke.” (David Lodge)

    It demonstrates a commitment to surrealistic aesthetics, and has a clear lack of an obvious plot, minimal development of character, variations of time sequence, and experiments with vocabulary and punctuation.

    Are the dead the victims of a medieval plague or, perhaps, of a Communist firing squad? And why are finger bones disappearing from the pit each night? Petrus, a young archaeologist, decides to do some investigating of his own. Meanwhile, an Orthodox monk in the surrounding mountains stumbles into history when he becomes the father confessor of a partisan bent on bringing down the government, one handmade grenade and one derailed train at a time. Not to mention a team of Argentinean forensic anthropologists who arrive in town in a cloud of rock music, shredded jeans, and tequila. Florian has packed real history, a religious pilgrimage, a criminal investigation, a recipe for roast pigeon, and a love story into two hundred truly remarkable pages.

    The character development is very strong and realistic, and the dialogue of the novel is very powerful.

    Thursday, ten sharp." Thus begins one day in the life of a young clothing-factory worker during Ceaucescu's totalitarian regime. She has been questioned before; this time, she believes, will be worse. Her crime? Sewing notes into the linings of men's suits bound for Italy. "Marry me," the notes say, with her name and address. Anything to get out of the country.As she rides the tram to her interrogation, her thoughts stray to her friend Lilli, shot trying to flee to Hungary, to her grandparents, deported after her first husband informed on them, to Major Albu, her interrogator, who begins each session with a wet kiss on her fingers, and to Paul, her lover, her one source of trust, despite his constant drunkenness. In her distraction, she misses her stop to find herself on an unfamiliar street. And what she discovers there makes her fear of the appointment pale by comparison.Herta Müller pitilessly renders the humiliating terrors of a crushing regime. Bone-spare and intense, The Appointment confirms her standing as one of Europe's greatest writers.

    People consider her guilty of spreading a disease, and during one single torrid summer, she turns into public enemy no. 1. At first she attracts the attention of the villagers, and afterwards, through mass-media, she becomes a national sensation. As this character develops, hunted, blamed and adored at the same time, various secrets, more or less important, are revealed, gradually turning the story into the chronicle of this small rural community. Hypocrisy, humiliation, cruelty and murder. Each character had contributed one way or another to the change of mentality in society. All these old occurrences actually represent the underground of the contemporary world, and once disclosed, the history of the last 60 years is recomposed in detail, unveiling how the east-European village has been undergoing a sustained downfall. The 13 stories (forming Lizoanca’s story) all lead to a single character, a certain Crone Petrache Notaru (80 years old). He is the one who committed all these landmark acts changing the life of the village, and all the other characters are built around him, weaving, one way or another, Lizoanca’s biography. Notaru ruined Tori’s life (Lizoanca’s grandmother). He is also responsible for Greblă’s fixations, who is a paedophile. Notaru fed Sanitara’s fears, embittering her. And he rewrites the history of an antic ring which he had found when he was a child. Notaru is the unknown architect of a world which can synthetically be named Lizoanca.Based on a true story, the novel represents the radiography of the contemporary society, during its last moments.

    Isolated by history as well as geography, with only the passing lights of the Transsiberian train to assure them of an outside world, the three friends yearn for experiences their small village cannot provide. But after trekking by snowshoe to a cinema in the neighboring city, their whole world is changed forever as they watch the gorgeous spectacle of a motion picture starring the French actor Jean-Paul Belmondo and a cast of beautiful women. Written from the perspective of twenty years later, Once Upon the River Love follows the destinies of these three young idealists up to the present day, to the boardwalks of Brighton Beach and the jungles of Central America. Once Upon the River Love is a beautifully rendered novel that demonstrates Andrei Makine's remarkable ability to recreate the past with such precision that the present becomes all the more poignant.

    More than three thousand years after this prophecy was made, the Abbey is the only religious entity still standing. Radoslav, the Abbot who rules the Augustinian Order, knows that the Armageddon is about to break out soon but he can't decide what will trigger it. It might be the first contact with an extraterrestrial civilization; it is possible that the attempt of imperial administration to replace the clones from the Agricultural Worlds with aliens will degenerate into a cosmic conflict; and the super-soldier sent to spy on the Abbey is also a great worry. As this fascinating, complex plot develops, it becomes clear that the final fight is not between good and evil, but between those who believe in God and those who decline Him. The Abbey offers a unique perspective on how religion could develop and evolve in a far-away future. Is humanity's real purpose to protect God from reaching His own limits? The author offers daring hypotheses and original thinking in this multi-layered fantasy filled with spirituality and insight.

    Winner of the Sandor Marai prize, and in the tradition of 'A Curious Incident' and 'Boy in the Striped Pyjamas', 'The White King' is the story about a young boy in a totalitarian state in a quest for his disappeared father."

    “I must create a myth,” he jotted in his diary, “and become its hero—that’s my idea! . . . [A] Judeo-German metaphysician, descended as if from the XVIIIth century (or that’s how he likes to think of himself) [who talks] about responsibility, about a dialogue of purity with God, about perplexity facing the void.” In the following years, Zacharias Lichter— madman, fool, philosopher, and the weirdest of rebels without a cause—would come to life in Calinescu’s fictional account of his life and opinions, a book written for his private amusement since he assumed the censors would never permit its publication. He was wrong about that, however. The censors were completely oblivious to the subversive humor and intent of his book, which became a cult classic.

    J. Cronin, initially published in 1933. It tells the story of Dr. Harvey Leith, an English physician who is wrongfully blamed for the deaths of three patients and leaves his country in disgrace, ultimately finding redemption when thrust into the middle of a yellow fever epidemic in the Canary Islands.

    Spending his days walking the streets and his nights drinking and gambling, meeting revolutionaries, zealots, lovers and libertines, he adjusts his eyes to the darkness that falls over Europe, and threatens to destroy him. Mihail Sebastian's 1934 masterpiece, now translated into English for the first time, was written amid the anti-Semitism which would, by the end of the decade, force him out of his career and turn his friends and colleagues against him. For Two Thousand Years is a prescient, heart-wrenching chronicle of resilience and despair, broken layers of memory and the terrible forces of history.

    Now though, a quarter century after The Joke was first published, and several years after the collapse of the Soviet-imposed Czechoslovak regime, it becomes easier to put such implications into perspective in favor of valuing the book (and all Kundera 's work) as what it truly is: great, stirring literature, that sheds new light on the eternal themes of human existence.The present edition provides English-language readers an important further means toward revaluation of The Joke. For reasons he describes in his Author's Note, Milan Kundera devoted much time to creating (with the assistance of his American publisher-editor) a completely revised translation that reflects his original as closely as any translation possibly can: reflects it in its fidelity not only to the words and syntax but also to the characteristic dictions and tonalities of the novel's narrators. The result is nothing less than the restoration of a classic.