In Minor Angels Volodine depicts a postcataclysmic world in which the forces of capitalism have begun to reestablish themselves. Sharply opposed to such a trend, a group of crones confined to a nursing home—all of them apparently immortal—resolves to create an avenging grandson fashioned of lint and rags. Though conjured to crush the rebirth of capitalism, the grandson is instead seduced by its charms—only to fall back into the hands of his creators, where he manages to forestall his punishment by reciting one “narract” a day. It is these narracts, or prose poems, that compose the text of Minor Angels.

    This, the most detailed and lavishly illustrated book on the cathedral available in English, beautifully evokes the awe-inspiring monument that attracts countless visitors from around the world.

    Naïma's father claims to remember nothing; he has made himself French. Her grandfather died before he could tell her his side of the story. But now Naïma will travel to Algeria to see for herself what was left behind--including their secrets.The Algerian War for Independence sent Naïma's grandfather on a journey of his own, from wealthy olive grove owner and respected veteran of the First World War, to refugee spurned as a harki by his fellow Algerians in the transit camps of southern France, to immigrant barely scratching out a living in the north. The long battle against colonial rule broke apart communities, opened deep rifts within families, and saw the whims of those in even temporary power instantly overturn the lives of ordinary people. Where does Naïma's family fit into this history? How do they fit into France's future?Alice Zeniter's The Art of Losing is a powerful, moving family novel that spans three generations across seventy years and two shores of the Mediterranean Sea. It is a resonant people's history of Algeria and its diaspora. It is a story of how we carry on in the face of loss: loss of country, identity, language, connection. Most of all, it is an immersive, riveting excavation of the inescapable legacies of colonialism, immigration, family, and war.

    Preface by André Gide. Translated by Stuart Gilbert.

    Out of this skirmish arose a stirring tale of war, which was recorded in the oldest extant epic poem in French. The Song of Roland, written by an unknown poet, tells of Charlemagne’s warrior nephew, Lord of the Breton Marches, who valiantly leads his men into battle against the Saracens, but dies in the massacre, defiant to the end. In majestic verses, the battle becomes a symbolic struggle between Christianity and Islam, while Roland’s last stand is the ultimate expression of honour and feudal values of twelfth-century France.

    These were among the earliest versions of some of our most familiar fairy tales ("Cinderella," "Sleeping Beauty," "Little Red Riding Hood," "Puss in Boots," and "Tom Thumb") and are still among the few classic re-tellings of these perennial stories.In addition to the five well-known tales listed above, Perrault tells three others that are sure to delight any child or adult: "The Fairies," a short and very simple tale of two sisters, one sweet and one spiteful; "Ricky of the Tuft," a very unusual story of a brilliant but ugly prince and a beautiful but stupid princess; and "Blue Beard," a suspense story perhaps more famous as a classic thriller than as a fairy tale. The witty verse morals that Perrault included in the original edition (often omitted in later reprintings) are retained here in verse translations.This edition also includes 34 extraordinary full-page engravings by Gustave Doré that show clearly why this artist became the foremost illustrator of his time. These illustrations have long been considered the ideal accompaniment to Perrault's fairy tales. In many cases they created the pictorial image that we associate with the stories.Along with the collections of Andersen, Lang, and the Brothers Grimm, this volume is among the great books of European fairy tales. These stories have been enjoyed by generation after generation of children in many countries, and are here, with magnificent Doré illustrations, waiting to be enjoyed again.

    Would they buy a silver fox coat, or mink?

    (...) By transcribing the events of his daily life as if they were episodes in an ongoing dream, by recording his dreams as if they embodied the true narrative of his waking existence, Leiris in effect defuses the distinction between two.

    Adélaïde grows up without showing any outward signs of damage. As a teen and then as an outwardly cheerful young woman, she suffers in silence, battling her demons alone. Twenty-three years later, Adélaïde receives a call from the juvenile squad. An investigator has reopened the classified case of “the electrician” and DNA analysis points to a man known to the police as a serial burglar. He is subsequently charged with assaulting 72 minors between 1983 and 2003, and it is suspected that he has hurt hundreds of others who never filed complaints. In the spring of 2016, at the Paris city court, along with 18 other women, Adélaïde confronts the rapist who destroyed her life. In precise and delicate prose, with poise and passion, Adélaïde Bon tells a story that is both terrifying and all too common. This French bestseller is critical reading for all.

    

    One reinforced-concrete blockhouse in the heart of the forest is manned, this winter of 1939/40, by Lieutenant Grange with three men, who live in a chalet built over it. Cut off from the rest of the world, their senses heightened to capture the sounds and smells of the forest, the men create their own security as autumn turns to winter. Later, though, when winter turns to spring, when the sap rises and the panzer divisions attack, Lieutenant Grange meets the fate he has never believed he would escape. But if this is a story of soldiers, it is not about fighting. It is about solitude, about watching and waiting - and about love, the young Lieutenant's devotion to Mona, the child-widow discovered like a sprite in the forest one rainy night, who, in this surreal period of suspense, becomes his lover.

    He becomes obsessed with a young dancer whom he believes is the double of his beloved wife, leading him to psychological torment and humiliation, culminating in a deranged murder. This 1892 work is a poet's novel, dense, visionary, and haunting. Bruges, the 'dead city', becomes a metaphor for Hugues' dead wife as he follows its mournful labyrinth of streets and canals in a cyclical promenade of reflection and allusion--the ultimate evocation of Rodenbach's lifelong love affair with the enduring mystery and mortuary atmosphere of Bruges.