Must Love Dogs... to Love this Novel. A Contrary review by Shaindel Beers  After tackling David Wroblewski’s tome, The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, I have come to realize that there are two types of people in the world: those who will love this novel, and those who will hate it. I know this because I have run into these two types among my friends. Upon mentioning that I was reading the book, I got these two opposing posts on my Facebook Wall: ”I've been up nights late with Edgar Sawtelle, unable to put it down. I just finished the book. Oh my. (speechless)” And: “Ohmygod, I HATED that book. I skipped entire pages of it! The narrative was just so amateurish. I thought it should have been cut down to at least half its size.” I’ve encountered further trepidation from those who aren’t sure if they want to read a novel that has been chosen as an Oprah Book Club selection. (To be fair, I ordered the book before Oprah’s seal graced the cover. My two main motivations were the book’s ambition to rewrite Hamlet and its setting in the north woods of Wisconsin.) I think there are two reasons for the strong opinions on this novel: one is simply the heft of the work. Wroblewski’s debut novel is an impressive 566 pages. This isn’t a novel that most people would choose to read on a whim. The other reason is that dogs play a large part in the novel—a large part. One has to believe that dogs are thinking, feeling beings in order to enjoy this novel, and readers also have to accept that these are very special, highly intelligent dogs. Wroblewski goes to great lengths to persuade the readers of this fact, detailing the years spent developing the breed and the grueling hours of training each day it takes to make “a Sawtelle dog.” Anyone who can’t accept dogs playing such a large role in a novel of this length isn’t going to be able to stand the book. Almondine is the dog (and, interestingly, the Ophelia character) who nearly raises Edgar (the book’s Hamlet figure). Edgar’s first memory is this: Between the honey-colored slats of the crib a whiskery muzzle slides forward until its cheeks pull back and a row of dainty front teeth bare themselves in a ridiculous grin. The nose quivers. The velvet snout dimples ... Fine, dark muzzle fur. Black nose, leather of lacework creases, comma of nostrils flexing with each breath ... At once, the muzzle knows he is awake. It snorts. Angles right and left. Withdraws. Outside the crib, Almondine’s forequarters appear. Her head is reared back, her ears cocked forward. A cherry-brindled eye peers back at him. Whoosh of her tail. Be still. Stay still. Much of the novel is like this, simple communication between boy and dog. A further complication is that Edgar is mute, so he signs everything to the dogs. The only point in the novel where I was tempted to put it down, doubtful that dogs could do such a thing, was when Edgar has the dogs portray the murder of his father, to test his uncle, Claude’s, conscience. Remember, this is Hamlet. The play within a play, but acted out by dogs? I was doubtful, too, but the training of the dogs to do this seems plausible, and I was willing to let it go. After all, the dogs memorize a simple sequence: Roll on your back. Carry this to the other dog. Tag that dog. There is one aspect of the novel that I feel makes more sense than in Shakespeare’s original, the relationship between Trudy (the Gertrude character) and Claude (Claudius), her deceased husband’s brother. In Wroblewski’s tale, she is a complex woman, trying to run a farm on her own in rural Wisconsin in the mid-Twentieth Century. It makes sense for her to accept Claude’s offer to move back to the farm and help her to continue the line of Sawtelle dogs. We see far more of the inner workings of this relationship than in Hamlet. Wroblewski takes a risk, and it’s one that works for me. But, then again, I read much of this novel with a dog sprawled out and snoring at the foot of my bed, or on the couch and whining to be pet because I needed to use both hands to hold a hardcover novel of this size. It isn’t for everybody. If you have pictures of your dog on your desk at the office or pets as recipients on your holiday gift lists, I think you’ll be delighted with this tale. If not, I don’t know if you’ll make it past the prologue and first chapter. Shaindel Beers is Contrary’s poetry editor. Index of Reviews...>Reviews.htmlshapeimage_1_link_0
 

The Story of Edgar Sawtelle

David Wroblewski

2008, Ecco

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