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Tony's Reviews > Timbuktu
Timbuktu
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by
Who saw "Old Yeller?" Who cried when Old Yeller got shot at the end?
Nobody cried when Old Yeller got shot? I cried my eyes out.*
----- ----- ----- ----- -----
And you will fall for Mr. Bones too, as you see the world through his eyes. Or maybe his snout. There is, indeed, a Symphony of Smells within, and other assorted delights. (Some plot spoiling follows.)
Mr. Bones is smart, as dogs go. He knows what you're saying and is frustrated that he can't speak back. Woóf! Woóf! Woóf! He is loyal, and cautious. He is not bitter about his dog's life. That's just how it is, you know. He had a ten-day affair with Greta, a malamute from Iowa City; other romances had been brief, impetuous.
He learned most of what he knows from his first master, Willy G. Christmas, a promising young poet until college happened and Willy's mind followed the drugs. "We're talking about highly combustible materials here, aren't we? You walk around with nitroglycerin in your brain, and sooner or later you're going to bump into something." But Mr. Bones learned some dog tricks and some human tricks too.
He would have a short stay with Henry, a Chinese-American boy who hides Mr. Bones from his restaurant-owning father and re-names him 'Cal'. See, Henry is a Baltimore Orioles baseball fan. Mr. Bones has to flee to avoid being the 'Chicken' with broccoli and rice entrée, or so he imagines.
His next stop is a family of four. He is found by daughter Alice. Auster tells us that Alice is no ordinary person -- and isn't it nice that he only tells us that much? Alice's mother, Polly, is whom Mr. Bones falls for though. We do too. Her husband is appropriately named. Dick is the one who insists on getting Mr. Bones fixed.
It is Polly who says, "You understand what we're saying, don't you, old dog? ... You're a special one, aren't you? And you're tired and beat-up, and you need something to put in your belly. That's it, old-timer, isn't is? You're lost and alone, and every inch of you is tuckered out."
You got that right, Polly.
I really liked this. Chien à tout faire. Recommended for mutts.
_______________________________________
*
Nobody cried when Old Yeller got shot? I cried my eyes out.*
----- ----- ----- ----- -----
And you will fall for Mr. Bones too, as you see the world through his eyes. Or maybe his snout. There is, indeed, a Symphony of Smells within, and other assorted delights. (Some plot spoiling follows.)
Mr. Bones is smart, as dogs go. He knows what you're saying and is frustrated that he can't speak back. Woóf! Woóf! Woóf! He is loyal, and cautious. He is not bitter about his dog's life. That's just how it is, you know. He had a ten-day affair with Greta, a malamute from Iowa City; other romances had been brief, impetuous.
He learned most of what he knows from his first master, Willy G. Christmas, a promising young poet until college happened and Willy's mind followed the drugs. "We're talking about highly combustible materials here, aren't we? You walk around with nitroglycerin in your brain, and sooner or later you're going to bump into something." But Mr. Bones learned some dog tricks and some human tricks too.
He would have a short stay with Henry, a Chinese-American boy who hides Mr. Bones from his restaurant-owning father and re-names him 'Cal'. See, Henry is a Baltimore Orioles baseball fan. Mr. Bones has to flee to avoid being the 'Chicken' with broccoli and rice entrée, or so he imagines.
His next stop is a family of four. He is found by daughter Alice. Auster tells us that Alice is no ordinary person -- and isn't it nice that he only tells us that much? Alice's mother, Polly, is whom Mr. Bones falls for though. We do too. Her husband is appropriately named. Dick is the one who insists on getting Mr. Bones fixed.
It is Polly who says, "You understand what we're saying, don't you, old dog? ... You're a special one, aren't you? And you're tired and beat-up, and you need something to put in your belly. That's it, old-timer, isn't is? You're lost and alone, and every inch of you is tuckered out."
You got that right, Polly.
I really liked this. Chien à tout faire. Recommended for mutts.
_______________________________________
*
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Reading Progress
April 25, 2015
–
Started Reading
April 25, 2015
– Shelved
April 27, 2015
–
Finished Reading
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Fionnuala
(last edited Apr 27, 2015 03:01PM)
(new)
Apr 27, 2015 02:56PM
And you say Paul Auster wrote this? Well, I'll be dog gone!
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Fionnuala wrote: "And you say Paul Auster wrote this? Well, I'll be dog gone!"Shocking, I know. Auster is a mixed bag for me. He doesn't overwork things here. It's spare. But I read for hours last night when I was supposed to be sleeping.
I'm shocked too. You mean I will have to revise my opinion that Auster only ever writes about Auster? Or is he a dog?
This was my first Auster - does anyone ever forget their first? The book's final sentence literally brought me to my knees. For me, the most potent closing lines ever written.
·°²¹°ù±ð²Ô· wrote: "I'm shocked too. You mean I will have to revise my opinion that Auster only ever writes about Auster? Or is he a dog?"Funny that you mention this. I considered several transportations. Was Auster trying to channel himself through Mr. Bones? I decided 'no' ultimately because Mr. Bones was just too nice a guy. Was Auster, instead, being played by Willy G. Christmas, torn between the rush of genius and the certainty of failure? Maybe. But there's this: Willy G. talks about his college roommate: a guy named Anster, Omster, something like that--who had gone one to write a number of so-so books and had once promised to find Willy a publisher for his poems..... He just can't help himself.
Janet wrote: "This was my first Auster - does anyone ever forget their first? The book's final sentence literally brought me to my knees. For me, the most potent closing lines ever written."Janet, I thought of you as I was reading this. I'da recommended it to you if you hadn't read it already.
You deserve a treat for this, old feller!
Ian wrote: "You deserve a treat for this, old feller!"Woóf! Woóf! Woóf, Woóf, Woóf!
