The Length of Days features a wild cast of characters-Lithuanian, Russian, and Ukrainian-and cameo appearances by Rosa Luxemburg, Amy Winehouse, and others. Embedded narratives attributed to one character, an alcoholic chemist-turned-massage-therapist, broaden the reader's view of the funny, ironic, or tragic lives of people who remained in the ill-fated Donbas after Russia's initial aggression in 2014. Unexpected allies emerge to try to stop the war, as characters criticize Ukraine's government at the time, its self-interest, and failures to support its citizens in the east. With elements of magical realism, the work combines poetry and a wicked sense of humor with depth of political analysis, philosophy, and moral interrogation. Witty references to popular culture-Ukrainian and European-underline the international and transnational aspects of Ukrainian literature. The novel ends on a hopeful note even though by then the main characters have already died twice: they return with greater power each time. As the author's last novel written originally in the Russian language, The Length of Days is a deeply Ukrainian work, set mostly in the composite Donbas city of Z-an uncanny foretelling of what this letter has come to symbolize since February 24, 2022, when Russia launched a full-scale invasion of Ukraine.

The Length of Days features a wild cast of characters-Lithuanian, Russian, and Ukrainian-and cameo appearances by Rosa Luxemburg, Amy Winehouse, and others. Embedded narratives attributed to one character, an alcoholic chemist-turned-massage-therapist, broaden the reader's view of the funny, ironic, or tragic lives of people who remained in the ill-fated Donbas after Russia's initial aggression in 2014. Unexpected allies emerge to try to stop the war, as characters criticize Ukraine's government at the time, its self-interest, and failures to support its citizens in the east. With elements of magical realism, the work combines poetry and a wicked sense of humor with depth of political analysis, philosophy, and moral interrogation. Witty references to popular culture-Ukrainian and European-underline the international and transnational aspects of Ukrainian literature. The novel ends on a hopeful note even though by then the main characters have already died twice: they return with greater power each time. As the author's last novel written originally in the Russian language, The Length of Days is a deeply Ukrainian work, set mostly in the composite Donbas city of Z-an uncanny foretelling of what this letter has come to symbolize since February 24, 2022, when Russia launched a full-scale invasion of Ukraine.

A vivid and intimate account of the Ukrainian Revolution, the rare moment when the political became the existential "[Shore's] history entails an extraordinary declaration of the power of human will and self-determination."-Kate Brown, Times Literary Supplement What is worth dying for? While the world watched the uprising on the Maidan as an episode in geopolitics, those in Ukraine during the extraordinary winter of 2013-14 lived the revolution as an existential transformation: the blurring of night and day, the loss of a sense of time, the sudden disappearance of fear, the imperative to make choices. In this lyrical and intimate book, Marci Shore evokes the human face of the Ukrainian Revolution. Grounded in the true stories of activists and soldiers, parents and children, Shore's book blends a narrative of suspenseful choices with a historian's reflections on what revolution is and what it means. She gently sets her portraits of individual revolutionaries against the past as they understand it-and the future as they hope to make it. In so doing, she provides a lesson about human solidarity in a world, our world, where the boundary between reality and fiction is ever more effaced.

A shimmering literary examination of the ghost of communism, a haunting presence of Europe's past
Oskar has just killed himself. After waiting a quarter century, he returned to Prague only to find it was no longer his home. With his memorial service, Yale historian and prize-winning author Marci Shore leads us gently into the post-totalitarian world. We meet a professor of literature who as a child played chess with the extortionist who had come to deliver him to the Gestapo and an elderly Trotskyite whose deformed finger is a memento of seventeen years in the Soviet gulag. Parents who had denounced their teenage dissident daughter to the communist secret police plead for understanding. For all of these people, the fall of Communism has not ended history but rather summoned the past: rebellion in 1968, Stalinism, the Second World War, the Holocaust. The revolutions of 1989 opened the archives, illuminating the tragedy of twentieth-century Eastern Europe: there were moments in which no decisions were innocent, in which all possible choices caused suffering.
As the author reads pages in the lives of others, she reveals the intertwining of the personal and the political, of love and cruelty, of intimacy and betrayal. The result is a lyrical, touching, and sometimes heartbreaking portrayal of how history moves and what history means.

A mosaic of memories from a childhood in the Warsaw Ghetto and a life in hiding on the other side of the wall
When six-year-old Michal Glowinski first heard the adults around him speak of the ghetto, he understood only that the word was connected with moving-and conjured up a fantastical image of a many-storied carriage pulled through the streets by some umpteen horses. He was soon to learn that the ghetto was something else entirely. A half-century later, Glowinski, now an eminent Polish literary scholar, leads us haltingly into Nazi-occupied Poland. Scrupulously attentive to the distance between a child's experience and an adult's reflection, Glowinski revisits the images and episodes of his childhood: the emaciated violinist playing a Mendelssohn concerto on the ghetto streets; his game of chess with a Polish blackmailer threatening to deliver him to the Gestapo; and his eventual rescue by Catholic nuns in an impoverished, distant convent. In language at once spare and eloquent, Glowinski explores the horror of those years, the fragility of existence, and the fragmented nature of memory itself.

"In the elegant capital city of Warsaw, the editor Mieczyslaw Grydzewski would come with his two dachshunds to a cafe called Ziemianska." Thus begins the history of a generation of Polish literati born at the "fin de siecle," They sat in Cafe Ziemianska and believed that the world moved on what they said there. "Caviar and Ashes" tells the story of the young avant-gardists of the early 1920s who became the radical Marxists of the late 1920s. They made the choice for Marxism before Stalinism, before socialist realism, before Marxism meant the imposition of Soviet communism in Poland. It ended tragically.
Marci Shore begins with this generation's coming of age after the First World War and narrates a half-century-long journey through futurist manifestos and proletarian poetry, Stalinist terror and Nazi genocide, a journey from the literary cafes to the cells of prisons and the corridors of power. Using newly available archival materials from Poland and Russia, as well as from Ukraine and Israel, Shore explores what it meant to live Marxism as a European, an East European, and a Jewish intellectual in the twentieth century.