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I'm not even really
sure where to begin with this one. To call it a throw-away would be
to demean the author's obvious talents. But to praise it as a stunning
memoir (fictional as it is) would overstate its place in the literary
pantheon that is my limited library. My first thought is how publishers
have the gall to charge full price for such a thin volume. This thing
is a novella if it's anything, and even that at 176 pages is being
generous. And still the $14.00 cover price... But enough complaining
about industry, and onto the program. McNeil's writing is very British.
That's not a complaint, mind you, just an observation. The fact is
that his writing is also beautiful and darkly gothic. I mean gothic
in a Wuthering Heights kind of way, not a spooky, gargoyle
way. The plot of the story revolves around our protagonist, who lost
his parents at a young age, and his desire to write the memoir of
the love between his in-laws. That love is complicated, of course,
and has befallen an early fate all precipitated by the so-named "black
dogs." The wife's encounter with these black dogs on their honeymoon--at
least her version of it--somehow set the marriage off on a doomed
direction, and fated the thing to fail. It's still a little unclear
to me how or why this was, and I think perhaps this is my issue with
the book. They play such a central part in the story, but perhaps
their symbolism is too subtle for a dumbass like me to fully pick
up on. There's some stuff about the fall of the Berlin wall and socialism
and stuff, all of which weaves its way through the story of these
two doomed souls. This review is going to be as brief as the book
itself. So it goes.
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