The novel succeeds admirably in telling its story from a dog’s-eye view that finds the human world very strange indeed.Īn auspicious debut: a boon for dog lovers, and for fans of storytelling that eschews flash. Tinder had begun pushing into the tall grass and he turned and trotted back.” It resolves, however, in ways that will satisfy grown-up readers. High in the crown of a charred tree, an owl covered its dished face, and one branch down, three small replicas followed. The story takes Jungle Book-ish turns: “He blinked at the excess moonlight in the clearing and clapped for the dogs.
That’s an appropriately tragic setup, and Edgar finds himself exiled to the bleak wintry woods-though not alone, for he is now the alpha of his own very special pack. Edgar may be voiceless, but he is capable of expressing sorrow and rage when his father suddenly dies, and Edgar decides that his father’s brother, who has been spending a great deal of time with Edgar’s mother, is responsible for the crime. At the heart of the book is a pup from an extremely rare breed, thanks to a family interest in Mendelian genetics so rare is Almondine, indeed, that she finds ways to communicate with Edgar that no other dog and human, at least in literature, have yet worked out. Wroblewski is the product of one such place, but he seems to have forgotten much of what he learned there: He takes an intense interest in his characters takes pains to invest emotion and rough understanding in them and sets them in motion with graceful language (and, in eponymous young Edgar’s case, sign language). Writing to such formulas, with concomitant omniscience and world-weariness, has long been the stuff of writing workshops. A stately, wonderfully written debut novel that incorporates a few of the great archetypes: a disabled but resourceful young man, a potential Clytemnestra of a mom and a faithful dog.
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