Recent audiobooks of note:
THE BOOK OF ROSY: A Mother’s Story of Separation at the Border, by Rosayra Pablo Cruz and Julie Schwietert Collazo, read by Almarie Guerra and Jayme Mattler. (HarperAudio.) The true story of a family fleeing Guatemala for the U.S., where they’re caught and separated.
VAMPIRE: The Masquerade: Walk Among Us, by Genevieve Gornichec, Cassandra Khaw and Caitlin Starling, read by Erika Ishii, Neil Kaplan and Xe Sands, respectively. (HarperAudio.) Three audio-first horror novellas bring the World of Darkness back from the cult vampire video games to mainstream fiction.
WOLF HALL and BRING UP THE BODIES, by Hilary Mantel, read by Ben Miles. (HarperAudio.) On the heels of recording “The Mirror and the Light,” Miles takes us back to the first two books in Mantel’s Thomas Cromwell trilogy, tracing Cromwell’s rise as the chief strategist and fixer for King Henry VIII.
DEVOLUTION: A Firsthand Account of the Rainier Sasquatch Massacre, by Max Brooks, read by a full cast. (Random House Audio.) The author of “World War Z” returns with another science fiction story, of carnage long forgotten amid a volcanic eruption.
EVERYBODY (ELSE) IS PERFECT: How I Survived Hypocrisy, Beauty, Clicks, and Likes, by Gabrielle Korn, read by the author. (Simon & Schuster Audio.) The former Nylon editor reveals her battle with an eating disorder and coming out.
What we’re reading:
When I covered American politics and not the apocalypse, a sharp political consultant told me “Wolf Hall,” Hilary Mantel’s novel of Tudor-era England, was the best book about politics he’d ever read. Thomas Cromwell, the blacksmith’s son who became counselor to King Henry VIII, saw all the angles. And Mantel showed me all of Cromwell: his calculations, ambitions, flaws and wounds. I gulped down “Bring Up the Bodies,” the brisk sequel, and when THE MIRROR AND THE LIGHT, the last in the trilogy, came out this year, I turned to it like a gust of Covid-free air. No, it wasn’t as tight as the first two. Yes, I glimpsed the plot seams and got lost in indulgent chapters as if caught in heavy St. James Palace curtains. But in Mantel’s sumptuous, colorful, but never purple, sentences, I also got a reprieve from the present scourge, and a reminder: If death now floats on a contagious syllable, Mantel shows how it can also spread on gossip, innuendo and the caprice of tyrants. No matter how well poor Cromwell arranged his face, there is no mask for that.
—Jason Horowitz, Rome bureau chief