Jonathan Englander's “For the Relief of Unbearable Urges” was the sort of lovely irreverent debut that makes one take note of an author and eagerly await his next work. His first novel, “Ministry of Special Cases,” smart and emotionally sharp, pointed to a writer well on the way to finding his own unique voice. With “What We Talk About When We Talk About Anne Frank” Englander has more than come into his own, he has firmly established himself as Bernard Malamud's worthy heir.

From the the beginning, Englander has always written in fine sure prose. His sentences are elegant, deceptive in their simplicity. Of course, you can say that about a lot of modern writers. What makes Englander different is the surety of what one might call his moral sense, his ability to realize complex often ambiguous situations, while maintaining a deep regard for the essential goodness of his characters, even those a reader may come to dislike. This isn't a writer who feels the need to grope at profundity, bludgeoning the reader with this or that message – the death of much fine fiction. No, Englander's characters find complexity on their own terms, becoming members of the family, living on in his reader's minds.

A series of topics permeate this collection, several of which Englander has previously explored. The conflicting perspectives between young and old. Anti-Semitism. The way loss scars the soul and, perhaps, never truly heals. While all of eight of these stories are excellent, a few in particular continue to stand out in my mind. The title piece owes less to Carver and more to Joyce and Malamud. Two couples, one secular and the other ultra-orthodox, are brought together by the childhood friendship of the two women. Their discussion turns eventually to the place of the Holocaust in their respective identities and the amount of risk each person is willing to take to maintain their humanity. This story's ending is pure emotional poetry. “Sister Hills” follows the life of a Jewish community on the West Bank, through the perspectives of two women. Englander's story white washes none of the moral complexity inherent in this laden topic, while delivering a satisfying, fully realized tale of loss and desperation. Then there is “Free Fruit for Young Widows,” of which I can say nothing save it is among those special stories that will remain alive in my mind for many years, perhaps for as long as I am alive.

If there is a bookstore in heaven – and I pray that there is – Bernard Malamud is standing in the stacks, tearing through “What We Talk About When We Talk About Anne Frank.” Can you hear him? He's weeping with joy.