Sebastian Faulks, A Possible Life: A Novel in Five Parts (New York: Henry Holt, 2012) ("So be it, she thought. The project of my life is to make the most of what I have." Id. at 118.).
Ben Fountain, Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk: A Novel (New York: Ecco, 2012) ("For the past two weeks he's been feeling so superior and smart because of all the things he know from the war, but forget it, they are the ones in charge, these saps, these innocents, their homeland dream is the dominant force. His reality is their reality's bitch; what they don't know is more powerful than all the things he knows, and yet he's lived and knows what he knows, which means what, something terrible and possible fatal, he suspects. To learn what you have to learn at the war, to do what you have to do, does this make you the enemy of all that sent you to the war?" "Their reality dominates, except for this: It can't save you. It won't stop any bombs or bullets. He wonders if there's a saturation point, a body count that will finally blow the homeland dream to smithereens. How much reality can unreality take?" Id. at 306-307.).
Neil Gaiman, American Gods: A Novel (New York: William Morrow, 2001) ("Too much talking these days. Talk talk talk.This country would get along better if people learned how to suffer in silence." Id. at 44. "We do not always remember the things that do no credit to us. We justify them, cover them in bright lies or with the thick dust of forgetfulness," Id. at 376.).
Yasushi Inoue, The Counterfeiter and Other Stories, translated from the Japanese, with an introduction by Leon Picon (Boston: Tuttle Publishing, 1965, 2000).
Hari Kunzru, Gods Without Men: A Novel (New York: Knopf, 2012) ("Around them, tired deputies were slapping one another on the back, passing around a bottle. No one seemed to care they'd chased a man for days across the desert, then murdered him without cause. They were victorious hunters. Once the photographs were done, they started to cut brush and pile it over the corpse. Deighton tried to pull it away. He wasn't sure who was beneath it, but he knew they ought to carry him down, give him a decent funeral. Two of Craw's hands dragged him off and laid him on the ground. It's just and Indian, sneered one. He don't care." Id. at 232.).
Hari Kunzru, My Revolutions: A Novel (New York: Dutton, 2007, 2008) ("Nothing is permanent. Everything is subject to change. [] Annica is the Buddhist term. The cosmic state of flux." Id. at 17. "So I followed the path of educated misfits through the ages and got a job in a bookshop." Id. at 25. "You want to be a lawyer. Well, a lawyer needs to know something about politics, even a corporate lawyer who wants to climb the ladder, to buy the things her friends buy and go to the places they go. You're lucky that politics feels optional, something it is safe to ignore. Most people in the world have it forced on them. To be fair, I suppose you're a child of your time. Thatcher's gone, the Berlin wall's down, and unless you're in Bosnia, the most pressing issue of the nineties appears to be interior design, It's supposed to be the triumph of capitalism--the end of history and the glorious beginning of the age of shopping, But politics is still here, Sam, even in 1998. It may be in abeyance, at least in your world, But it's lurking round the edges, It';; be back." Id. at 47. "Does something exist if it's unobserved? Does something happen if it is not reported?" Id. at 184. "Because legality is just the name for everything that's not dangerous for the ruling order, because the poor starve while the rich play, because the flickering system of signs is enticing us to give up our precious interiority and join the dance and because just around the corner an insect world is waiting, so saying we must love one another or die isn't enough, not by a long way, because there'll come a time when any amount of love will be too late. But it's something, love, not nothing, and that's why I pull over and find a phone booth in a rest area and punch a number into the phone...." Id. at 276-277.).
Hari Kunzru, Gods Without Men: A Novel (New York: Knopf, 2012) ("Around them, tired deputies were slapping one another on the back, passing around a bottle. No one seemed to care they'd chased a man for days across the desert, then murdered him without cause. They were victorious hunters. Once the photographs were done, they started to cut brush and pile it over the corpse. Deighton tried to pull it away. He wasn't sure who was beneath it, but he knew they ought to carry him down, give him a decent funeral. Two of Craw's hands dragged him off and laid him on the ground. It's just and Indian, sneered one. He don't care." Id. at 232.).
Hari Kunzru, My Revolutions: A Novel (New York: Dutton, 2007, 2008) ("Nothing is permanent. Everything is subject to change. [] Annica is the Buddhist term. The cosmic state of flux." Id. at 17. "So I followed the path of educated misfits through the ages and got a job in a bookshop." Id. at 25. "You want to be a lawyer. Well, a lawyer needs to know something about politics, even a corporate lawyer who wants to climb the ladder, to buy the things her friends buy and go to the places they go. You're lucky that politics feels optional, something it is safe to ignore. Most people in the world have it forced on them. To be fair, I suppose you're a child of your time. Thatcher's gone, the Berlin wall's down, and unless you're in Bosnia, the most pressing issue of the nineties appears to be interior design, It's supposed to be the triumph of capitalism--the end of history and the glorious beginning of the age of shopping, But politics is still here, Sam, even in 1998. It may be in abeyance, at least in your world, But it's lurking round the edges, It';; be back." Id. at 47. "Does something exist if it's unobserved? Does something happen if it is not reported?" Id. at 184. "Because legality is just the name for everything that's not dangerous for the ruling order, because the poor starve while the rich play, because the flickering system of signs is enticing us to give up our precious interiority and join the dance and because just around the corner an insect world is waiting, so saying we must love one another or die isn't enough, not by a long way, because there'll come a time when any amount of love will be too late. But it's something, love, not nothing, and that's why I pull over and find a phone booth in a rest area and punch a number into the phone...." Id. at 276-277.).
Per Petterson, It's Fine By Me: A Novel, translated from the Norwegian by Don Bartlett (Minneapolis, MN: Greywolf Press, 1992, 2011).
Karen Russell, St. Lucy's Home for Girls Raised by Wolves: Stories (New York: Vintage Contemporaries/Vintage Books, 2006, 2007).
Karen Russell, Vampires in the Lemon Grove: Stories (New York: Knopf, 2013).
George Saunders, Tenth of December: Stories (New York: Random House, 2013) (From the bookjacket: "Writing brilliantly and profoundly about class, sex, love, loss, work, despair, and war, Saunders cuts to the core of the contemporary experience. These stories take on the big questions and explore the fault lines of our own morality, delving int the questions of what makes us good and what makes us human." "Unsettling, insightful, and hilarious, the stories in Tenth of December--through their manic energy, their focus on what is redeemable in human beings, and their generosity of spirit--not only entertain and delight; they fulfill Chekhov's dictum that art should 'prepare us for tenderness.'").
