Book Review ~ The Dog by the Cradle

Erika Ritter's non-fiction tome The Dog by the Cradle, the Serpent Beneath: Some Paradoxes of Human-Animal Relationships is Book 11 in my goal to read and review 13 Canadian books about dogs for the Great Canadian Book Challenge. It is one of the most difficult books I've ever read. The topic is a tough one to chew on, and Ritter's style leaves much to be desired. In the first chapter, she set my teeth on edge by making fun of Dr. Temple Grandin's beliefs and autistic behaviours. It set the wrong note for the entire book.

Central to the book, and the basis of the title, is the story about Guinefort, a greyhound in medieval France, who was killed by his master for a crime he didn't commit. Ritter comes back to this story repeatedly - introducing it multiple times in most chapters. By the end of the first chapter, I was annoyed; by the end of the book, I was gnashing my teeth as I reread the basic premise of the story for the umpteenth time. Ritter goes off topic repeatedly - not surprisingly, given how many times she goes back to the old Guinefort tale. Frequently, I lost my place, not understanding how I had arrived at the point I was reading. The book has a lot of promise, especially since it is clear that Ritter's research was exhaustive. With a strong editorial hand guiding her, Ritter could have produced something much more powerful. However, she has missed the mark.

My bottom line: If the topic really interests you, try checking it out of the library. That way you don't have to feel guilty if you can't finish it.

The light is at the end of the tunnel for the Challenge, whew. Two Stanleys to go to meet my goal of 13: Stanley Coren's The Modern Dog and Linda Bailey's and Bill Slavin's Stanley picture books.

Book Review ~ The Hidden Life of Humans

And now for something completely different.

I'm in my fifth month of John Mutford's Great Canadian Book Challenge. My own personal challenge has been to read and review 13 Canadian books about dogs over the course of a year. Erika Ritter's The Hidden Live of Humans is my most recent read, and clocks in as book #7 of my 13.

I was kicking myself when I realized that this book would qualify for the challenge. My friend Tracy has a book swap each spring, and wouldn't you know it, I passed up my chance to score this book for free at this year's swap. It was also recently for sale on chapters.indigo.com for one lousy buck. gah! Eh well, it was worth the $14.56 CAD I paid at amazon.ca. But, still, free or close-to-free would have been lovely.

Erika Ritter is a Canadian wordsmith extraordinaire. Hidden Life is her sole novel - a Canadian bestseller when it was published in 1997 - but she has also penned a few collections of essays, as well as nonfiction. She is also a playwright, public speaker, and well-known CBC commentator. She grew up in my home province (SK) but now resides in Ontario.

Okay, so, Hidden Life. The basic premise is that the main character - a single 40-something woman named Dana Jaeger - unwittingly ends up taking care of an ex-boyfriend's dog while the ex is cavorting around Finland with his ice-princess Finnish dentist girlfriend. Murphy - the dog - has strong opinions, and pieces of the book are told from Murphy's point of view. Before I realized that the book was published in 1997, I thought either Ritter ripped off Garth Stein's idea from The Art of Racing in the Rain, or this was one of those synchronicity thingamajiggies. Kudos to Ritter for being about a decade ahead of Stein.

Overall, I enjoyed the book; I read from start to finish in about a week, and my reading time is pretty fragmented, so a week is good. It's sort of chick lit with an edge. It has some dark bits, including Dana's ex-husband, who is dying of AIDS; a graphic account of an accident Dana endures; and some uncomfortable childhood memories Dana dredges up. The humour is a little dry, which is just fine. Some of the narrative devices are not my cup of tea, though. Dreams are one device that allow us to see things we wouldn't otherwise be able to see from the narrators' viewpoints. It was a little fantastical for me. Also, Murphy is really very smart - so smart that I'm skeptical, and that's saying a lot. Much is made about Murphy's inherent dog-ness - he humps the laundry bag, for example - but at the same time, he is incredibly philosophical. In Stein's Racing in the Rain, Enzo acquires his smarts through watching t.v. Murphy's smarts are not explained, and we are expected to believe he has his moments of deep thought interspersed with his laundry-bag exploits. I dunno if it works. Maybe it's just me. Maybe that's what Ritter was trying to say - dogs are dogs, but they also have moments of insight that would blow our socks off (all the better to get their grimy little paws on said socks!).

If I did star reviews, I would probably give this 3.5 out of 5. A good read, not too heavy, keeps the reader interested. That said, it didn't really speak to me, and I really doubt I will ever re-read it. I'm on the fence about whether to shelve it or give it away.