In order of completion:
1. Adam Hochschild. American Midnight. A look at a period in our history whose horrors, in some ways, exceed those our own, but written in a style that lacks the magic that warrants a pause, let alone a rereading.
2. Dawn Powell. The Locusts Have No Wings. There was a period I read a lot of Powell. I’d missed this one but found on a Free Books shelf. Now her nasty, embittered humor seems better suited to her time and place.
3. Anastasia Aukenan, Welcome to Painterland. I’ve written about this book at length. (See: “The Semi-Magnificent Bastards” www.firstofthemonth.org. July 17, 2026. ) I have nothing to add.
4. Jenny Epperstein. The End of Days. A mercilessly inventive novel in which the “same” woman lives and dies and lives again through the wars, pogroms, and purges that bloodied Europe and the USSR from the late 1890s deep into the 20th century.
5. Wolfgang Koeppen. A Death in Rome. In the near aftermath of WW II members of two generations of a dysfunctional family find themselves in the City of Eternal Light. The third book in a trilogy, the reaction to it among Germans was so negative, Koeppen never wrote another. Which is enough to make it worth reading.
6. O. Schrauwen. Sunday. My second reading of a graphic novel rightly compared to Ulysses. (Check my “Last”s from a year or two ago to see what else I said.)
7. Domenico Starnone. The Old Man By the Sea. A widowed octogenarian visits an Italian coastal village. His physical health and mind are failing but not significantly so, and his interaction with the villagers, especially a half-dozen women, are infused with wistful charm.
8. Shigeru Mizuki. Onwards Toward Our Noble Deaths. A graphic novel/history of a WW II battle/slaughter in which Mizuki fought. It records the stupidities, demented thinking, and madness which kills young men mercilessly. To me, though, few of the characters were developed enough in prose or illustration to grip and hold me and mourn their loss.
9. Steven J. Zipperman. Phillip Roth: Stung By Life. A treatment of Roth’s ambition and aggression in his professional and personal relationship while thoroughly complimentary toward his work, left me thinking, “Boy, I am glad I never fell into that world.”
10. Annie Ernst. The Years. An impressive treatment of the passage of time and influence of the world on the novel’s central character, a woman who mirrors Ernst, with a handling of the problems of narrative that won me over completely. (Thanks to my friend Budd who urged the book upon me.
So many Bob Levins on the Internet; I'm the Bob Levin who writes.