Therese Raquin

This early work by Zola was called a "sewer," and, truth be told, some of the scenes are gruesome even by today's standards, particularly the chapter set in a morgue. The novel, a story of adultery that could appear on any given Friday on an episode of NBC's Dateline, heralded the birth of naturalism. If early practitioners could be crude, they should also be thanked for clearing the air and setting the stage for the realist, unblinking novels of Anderson and Dreiser and their ilk, who in turn cleared the way for the modernists. As Orwell said, "To see what is in front of one's nose needs a constant struggle."

Now All We Need Is a Title

Titles catch the eye and remain in the imagination, but their origins and meanings can be lost. This collection by Andre Bernard offers brief explanations of several dozen famous book titles. One anecdote will give an idea: Somerset Maugham noted that people complimented his titles but often didn't know what they meant. In the case of The Moon and Sixpence, he said, "It means reaching for the moon and missing the sixpence at one's feet."

Green Thursday

Julia Peterkin's connected set of stories tells of the travails of rural blacks at the beginning of the 20th century buffeted by every kind of misfortune: natural, man-made, and spiritual. A rooster plucks out the eye of a child in a crib; an old woman burns down a neighboring house to preserve her own; pangs of an unmentionable love stir in an adolescent girl. Peterkin's use of black dialect -- "ebry," "gwine," etc. -- is a legitimate technique, but taken to extremes it brings a choppiness to the text that dialogue pitched slightly more toward standard English would avoid. Still, Peterkin was the one who lived on a plantation, and listened to the stories, and her sensitivity shines through.

Lanzarote

Michel Houellebecq's short novel contains themes developed further in Platform (tourism, sex) and The Possibility of an Island (cloning, sex). Easily read in one sitting, Lanzarote will give the uninitiated appetite for more Houellebecq. Its descriptive passages could even inspire a trip to the island itself.

2030

Albert Brooks's dystopian novel of the near-future wins points for plausibility: It is easy to imagine conflict between old people, who consume an increasing share of society's resources, and the young, whose piece of the pie keeps shrinking. The rise of China, likewise, is not an original concept. But 2030 shows why celebrities, even perceptive ones, should probably leave novel writing to the professionals. Brooks's dialogue is as flat as his characters. Even judged as a potboiler, 2030 lacks suspense, with every twist crudely telegraphed.

I Could Love You

William Nicholson's bid to become the Balzac of Sussex now consists of two novels, The Secret Intensity of Everyday Life and this follow-up set in 2008, eight years after the original. The challenge facing most of the characters here is banishing loneliness. Nicholson delivers an enjoyable if not especially challenging tale, but much of the dialogue in this dialogue-heavy novel has a cloying, stagey aspect. It could probably be re-sold as young adult fiction if all of the (many) four-letter words were struck out. Rather than Balzac, in fact, Nicholson more resembles J.B. Priestley and his 1930s novels featuring large casts of ordinary Londoners, each with a problem that gets resolved by the final page.

Thank You for Not Reading

If Dubravka Ugresic didn't like what she saw in the book world a decade ago, when this collection of essays was written, she must be apoplectic by now. All the trends she identified -- the treatment of books as commodities, non-writer celebrities dominating the bestseller lists, literature's infantilization -- have only gotten worse. But this is not a sour book. It is leavened with humor and wit. I would describe Ugresic, in short, as Croatia's answer to Mordecai Richler.

Whatever

Michel Houellebecq's first novel, published in 1994, contains in embryo some of the themes developed more fully in his later books. There is extravagant pessimism, a critique of trash culture, and an argument that sexual liberalization has had the same result as economic liberalization: mass pauperization. How far the author has traveled since this debut is an open question, but he is a guide whom astute readers will happily follow over the same ground again and again.