RedHead Ramble

The Lost Dog by Michelle de Kretser (Booker longlisted 2008 )

Michelle de Kretser is a Sri Lankan born Australian author of two previous novels The Rose Grower (1999) and The Hamilton Case (2003). I was very excited to read The Lost Dog because I greatly enjoyed The Hamilton Case.  However, I was unprepared for the challenge this novel turned out to be.  

There is no question, this novel is hard work, it is Literary, it sort of has a “plot is not the point attitude”. So consequently my reading experience lurched from desperately wanting the book to end so I could pick up something more in my comfort zone to a feeling that it is good to be challenged by an author with so obvious a talent for words.  

I have not yet resolved this conundrum. Reading of various lit blogs and forums reveals opinion on the novel to be resolutely divided- I feel like I have a foot in both camps. 

Plot seems to be a loosely defined thing, there is of course the lost dog, a lost husband, an odd sort of relationship between Henry James scholar Tom Loxley and artist Nelly Zhang. I would not recommend  picking this novel up if you expect a satisfying “part-mystery, part love story” because what de Kretser is really about is exploring ideas. There are many threads running under the surface of this book – ideas on art and ways of seeing, modernism, aging, relationships between body and mind, consumerism, and much more besides. The scope and presentation of these ideas is ambitious and intellectually challenging. Unfortunately, as a reader it had the unwelcoming effect of making me feel unworthy.. strangely enough I felt very like Tom did when viewing one of Nelly’s paintings..

” Tom gulped wine in front of the picture opposite the door. His scalp hummed. He thought I am the wrong kind of thing. He thought, I don’t belong here. The adverb having a wide application…..    Faced with the picture, he though only, how beautiful. And relived, at once, the frustration that had edged his youthful efforts, shadowing the pleasure he took at looking at art. “

Books that make me feel in some way inadequate as a reader don’t usually see me coming back for more but I seem to have a curious need to defend this novel and I suspect if I was up to a second reading it would be well rewarded. 

What prevents me from outright dislike of the novel is the little gems of insight, the small flashes of brilliance. Additionally, the exquisite jolt of recognition that comes from reading a book that is set in your home town adds another layer of appreciation.

” The neighborhood was on the way up. The butcher had taken to stocking free-range eggs. The doctors no longer bulk-billed. ….Tibetan prayer-flags fluttered across verandahs; neighbors fell out over parking for their four wheel drives….it was easier to buy a latte than a litre of milk.”

This whole passage just so cleverly encapsulated the gentrification of inner city Melbourne for me. There were many passages like this that just resonated so strongly because they reflected my own feelings on Melbourne and life in Australia.  

Her theme on the transient nature of modern living is interesting, consumerism needing modernism to survive..the throw away society – I love the part where Nelly shops at the Camberwell flea market, buying a string of greeny-blue beads for 50 cents to make into a necklace for her friend Yelena.

“Yelena arrived at the Preserve wearing Nelly’s necklace over pale cinnamon wool. Against that setting, it turned extraordinary: the pearls glowing, other-worldly. …. Why not? Nelly had restrung the necklace, fitted it with a new catch. The gift was enriched with her labour…..Such things were more than links in a disaffected chain of production and consumption. They bore a human tang.            All the same, he thought, She spent fifty cents on Yelena.”

Nelly views the world in a way I admired, she collects wild objects – items that had “outlived there purpose or evolve a new one”. She sees beauty in very simple things – light illuminating antique postcards, “a shoe jutting like a snout” from a tree.  If nothing else this novel really got me thinking about ways of seeing even if at times it felt like I had stumbled into a modernist art text. 

Aging and memory is another interesting facet of the novel. I really felt for the character of Iris, Toms 80 year old mother and her struggle with the deceptions of the body. de Kretser depicts bodily smells, functions, and a variety of grotesqueries with unnerving realism…there is a distinct whiff of fecal matter as a theme through the novel which does not make for easy reading!. 

Writing this review is a great way to tease out my feelings on this novel and I realize I have enjoyed it more on reflection than I did while reading. Strangely, there are parts of this book of which I have retained (or understood) very little but others stand out brilliantly - often it is just a small passage or idea.

So at the end of the day I am left to ponder if small nuggets of insight, of unique and challenging writing is enough to make a worthwhile read.  Should this kind of writing be rewarded with a literary prize or is it all rather too clever by half and fluanting it’s very Literary Aspirations.  

In summary : I am pleased to have read it, probably don’t want to put myself through it again, just yet, and now desperately want to read something I don’t need to reread every paragraph to make sure I understood.

Speaking of which, if someone could interpret this passage I would be grateful : 

“The bakery had tables by the window. A woman with ropy brown hair caught at the nape of her neck was forking a cavity in a small emerald breast topped with a pink sugar nipple.” 

Rating : 4 / 5

Links :

Dovegreyreader review

Mooksie review

Beautiful Screaming lady

Podcast Interview with Michelle de Kretser

Next Up : The Case Of Exploding Mangoes