For those who do not know anything about it, Words Without Borders is an online magazine that does an incomparable job of bringing literature from all corners of the globe to an English-reading audience. And I do mean all quarters--recent numbers have focused on Estonia, Peru, Indonesia, Tamil, Palestine (and, yes, German), literature of exile, graphic novels, and the sixth queer issue. The title of this volume at hand references the "axis of evil" that President Bush created with his habitual lax usage--even as he spoke, two of the regimes he lumped together were enemies of each other (Iraq and Iran, a situation he proceeded to remedy) and the third, North Korea, lay on the other side of China from them. The title is in any case approximate, since in addition to the targets of the former President, this volumes gathers work from Syria, Libya, Sudan and Cuba. As one would expect, it is a mixed bag, but many of these pieces are searing in their judgement upon the dictatorships under which the writers labor. The section on Iraq alternates between fiction that casts a cold and sometimes sarcastic eye on institutions and poetry heartbroken over the destruction of its communities. Iraq's Muhsin Al-Ramli writes: "The war intensified, so the Leader pardoned all military prisoners and returned them to their nooses. He also released all political prisoners from life and returned them to the belly of their mother earth after they had lain around in the refrigerators for a period long enough for their parents to pay the cost of nooses, the importation of which would have cost the government hard cash." Sudan's Tarek Eltayeb begins a story: "Listening to the radio is prohibited... Laughter and jokes are prohibited... Even dreams are prohibited."" Some stories have a poignance beyond even what the writers could possibly have intended. Syria is represented by two stories (one by a Kurdish writer) in which the burdens of adulthood fall on children. written long before its people began their long and sometimes fatal treks to and through Europe. But a number of these pieces sound like the regional variant of cheerleaders. Libya is represented by a single story, which centers on the reaction to German and Italian soldiers during World War II, and a desolate poem. As it happens, the literature of North Korea, at least the pieces gathered in this volume, is, as one might expect, patriotically dull. The art of the title "The Art of Music" for example, winds up being "the immortal majestic music ringing out from the stones loaded in the truck, imbued by the great general." A culture that makes propaganda that clumsy is obviously not interested in an international public.