Me, Margarita

As translators Field and Bukia-Peters write in their introduction to this delightfully frank collection of stories, “Georgia is little known on the international scene....” Enter the gifted Georgian writer Kordzaia-Samadashvili, who shoots from the hip in these intimate tales of sometimes judgmental, often imperfect, but always likable women. In the title story, the collection’s best, the country’s tumultuous history is alluded to in terms of a beautiful gorge, controlled, in turn, by Persians, Ottomans, and Russians; the gorge was also an important site for a lineage of women, all named Margarita, whose blunt sensibilities set the tone for the collection. In “Nina,” the narrator begins by saying, “I was never a very close friend of Nina’s. I can only take so much.” She proceeds to explain all the things about Nina that drive her crazy, not least of which are Nina’s tendency to cry in public and her fear of being alone at night. In almost every one of these discursive stories, the wit and self-awareness of the narrators hints at the difficulties they’ve endured without a lick of self-pity. With great skill, Kordzaia-Samadashvili brings readers into the kitchens, bedrooms, and hearts of these coarse, forthright women. (Feb.)