By Waverly
Fitzgerald (aka Waverly Curtis)
I was
delighted to be invited to be on a panel of animal-themed mysteries at Left
Coast Crime. Our moderator, Mary Lee Woods of Sparkle Abbey, sent the panelists
a list of proposed questions, including one asking each of the panelists to
name our favorite books featuring animal characters. I was surprised when I
made my list of favorites and realized that all the books on it were told from
the animal’s point of view.
It should have been obvious to
me, I suppose, since I write, with my co-author, Curt Colbert, a series of
humorous mystery novels about a Chihuahua, who is adopted by Geri Sullivan at
the start of our first novel, Dial C for
Chihuahua, and starts talking as soon as she gets him home, introducing
himself as Pepe.
My absolute
favorite is The Art of Racing in the Rain
by Garth Stein. The narrator, the dog, Enzo, like most dogs, is a keen observer
of human behavior and a devoted companion who is wiling to do almost anything
to make the lives of his humans better.
I also love
Spencer Quinn’s novels about Chet and Bernie. Chet is the narrator, a Bloodhound,
owned by private eye named Ernie. Chet quickly forgets important clues, blaming
it on his short-term memory problems. Frustrating for the reader who remembers
the clue but probably an accurate depiction of a dog’s perception and a great
way to deal with the problem that we have encountered in our Barking Detective
novels: once Pepe, smells a murder victim he could probably identify the
murderer in a crowd, especially if he can talk, like our dog detective can.
While I was
doing research on books told from an animal's point of view, I was thrilled to
learn that Virginia Woolf had written a book (Flush) from a dog's point of view so I got a copy from my local
library. The book is told from the point of view of Flush, the Cocker Spaniel
owned by Elizabeth Browning. For many years, he sits at her feet, while she lies
on a couch and writes poems. He's witness to the courtship of Robert Browning
and when the newlyweds elope and run off to Italy , Flush goes with them. The
language, which is lyrical throughout, really reaches a climax here as Flush
describes all the sensory joys of living in Italy :
He threaded his way through main
streets and back streets, through squares and alleys, by smell. He nosed his
way from smell to smell: the rough, the smooth, the dark, the golden. He went
in and out, up and down, where they beat brass, where they bake bread, where
the women sit combing their hair, where the bird-cages are piled high on the
causeway, where the wine spills itself in dark red stains on the pavement,
where leather smells and harness and garlic, where cloth is beaten, where vine
leaves tremble, where men sit and drink and spit and dice—he ran in and out,
always with his nose to the ground, drinking in the essence; or with his nose
in the air vibrating with the aroma. He slept in this patch of sun—how the sun
made the stone reek! He sought that tunnel of shade—how acid shade made the
stone smell!
I didn’t know
Judi McCoy’s Dog Walker mysteries when we first began writing but Curt may have
been unconsciously influenced by them because at first Pepe sounded a lot like
Rudy, the dog who talks to Ellie Engleman, the New York City dogwalker who is McCoy’s
protagonist. Rudy is a terrier-poodle whose voice reminds me of an old
vaudeville comedian: irascible, opinionated and gruff.
Our Pepe’s
voice has softened over time as I sway Curt to my opinion that a Chihuahua,
while inclined to be self-aggrandizing when comparing himself with other dogs
(or people), would not complain as much or be as greedy for food as Rudy. The Chihuahua who lives with
me prefers squeaky toys to treats.
McCoy
explains the communication between Ellie and Rudy by saying that Ellie hears
his voice (which is always rendered in italics) in her head.
Laura
Levine utilizes another clever way of handling animal-human communication in
her Jaine Austen series. For instance, in Last
Writes, Jaine comes home to find her cat, Prozac, glaring at her. The
dialogue reads:
“Where the
hell have you been?” she said, glaring at me balefully. (Okay, so she didn’t
actually say that, but I knew that’s what she was thinking.)”
Those of us
who have cats know this is probably exactly what the cat was thinking but the
parenthetical negation playfully eliminates the paranormal concept of a talking
cat. Levine also uses this technique effectively with other characters (OK, so
he didn’t really say that!) so it the cat’s dialogue seems like just part of
the delightful first-person narration.
I know many
readers don’t like novels that contain what seems like a fantasy element. One
of our Amazon reviewers wrote that she “was not prepared for this type of
fantasy,” adding “ I could not get passed [sic] a dog who spoke for no apparent
magical/mystical/insane reason.”
I have to
admit she is not the only one who does not understand how this happens. My
co-author and I actually disagree about this aspect of our joint novels. I
suspect that Geri is telepathic and can read Pepe’s mind while Curt believes
the dog is actually barking and Geri can translate his barks into English. One
of our fans, a young woman who posted a video review of Dial C for Chihuahua, mentions the explanation Pepe gives in the
book, which is the most appealing explanation of all: he has always talked but Geri
is the only one who has ever listened to him.
It might seem
like a fantasy to imagine a dog talking but those of us with pet companions
know that they are very expressive. We know they have feelings and we know, for
the most part, what those feelings are. I was cheered when I read psychologist
Stanley Coren’s book, How to Speak Dog. The
average dog understands the meaning of about 200 words, which is about the same
vocabulary as a two-year-old. They don’t have the vocal apparatus to form words
but they can let us know what they want anyway with those big brown eyes, a tip
of the head, a quirk of the ears.
~~
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Interesting blog. I was not familiar with all pets mentioned, but I love Pepe. I have a Beagle named Stella who has a rich life as well (she has been an austronaut, a ICE agent, an MMA fighter, an HVAC specialist, a rez dog, the list goes on and on) and I'm pretty sure she talks just like Pepe. Can't wait for the novella and book 4.
ReplyDeleteGood post! I'm a huge fan, too, of The Art of Racing in the Rain (and also Stein's Raven Stole the Moon, which does not have a dog narrator) as well as Susan Wilson's One Good Dog, and, of course Quinn's wonderful Chet and Bernie series.
ReplyDeleteI LOVE the cover of Dial C for Chihuahua! Dog narrators seem to be a whole new subgenre, something I didn't realize until I'd written my first Doodlebugged mystery (Bed-Bugged), which happens to be narrated by an obedience-impaired labradoodle. But I haven't read any books where the dog actually speaks--will definitely look yours up.
So many good books involving animals, and so little time! I do try to keep up with the market, so I am familiar with most of these titles. The Art of Racing in the Rain is also one of my all-time favorites. I had never heard of Flush by Virginia Woolf, however. I will look for it immediately. Thanks for mentioning it, Waverly!
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