"His life had come to save a few deer from the jaws of dogs. He was a small man sent to perform a small task."Howard Elman is a man whose internal landscape is as disordered as his front yard, where native New Hampshire birches mingle with a bullet-riddled washer, abandoned bathroom fixtures, and several junk cars. Howard, anti-hero of this first novel in Ernest Hebert's highly acclaimed Darby series, is a mixture too.Howard's battle against encroaching change symbolizes the class conflict between indigenous Granite Staters scratching out a living and citified immigrants with "college degrees and big bank accounts." Like the winter-weakened deer threatened by the dogs of March -- the normally docile house pets whose instincts arouse them to chase and kill for sport -- Howard, too, is sorely beset.
Few novels so thoroughly explore how poverty shapes a person's mind, relationships, and life than Ernest Hebert's The Dogs of March. Exquisitely poetic language is veined throughout the book, and what's more, it repeatedly delivers deep insights into human nature. On self-righteous arrogance: she "felt a pleasing, malicious urge to 'improve' [the family], chloroform them and spirit them off to a clinic in Denmark to be cleansed, trimmed, dressed, manicured, pedicured, mentally honed to fulfill what she perceived to be their potential." On the estrangement between a poor father and his more educated son: "College had pulled his son apart, scattered beliefs, habits, and loves like so many bits of a machine, and was now rebuilding him into a customized version of" himself. On the self-loathing and contradictory excitement of betrayal: "He felt sad and yet exalted, as if he were the last man on earth setting out in quest of the last woman." On human nature: "When all the creatures agree on who the devil is, why, we'll all be friends." But these general observations are in the backseat to the detailed examination the novel brings to bear upon how its characters think. For instance, the novel is especially adept at portraying how the main character, Howard Elman, constantly approaches moments of revelation or intellectual depth but then flounders in a sea of confusing words and "his deepwater ignorance" until he has no choice but to back away. This is tragic not just because a lack of privilege took away so much of the main character's potential but also because the novel, by turning the very town setting into a character, suggests that Howard Elman is just one of many who've been thus deprived. Indeed, one of the novel's themes is that things repeat in tessellation on "greater and lesser scales," and we see this both in the town's other characters and in how Howard's life and relationships suffer because of how he's been denied access to his own deepest thoughts.
By using an omniscient POV that doesn't hesitate to go into the minds of all of its major characters, the novel explores an entire town's interconnected lives, revealing especially how each person's inner dialogue--with its richness of language or lack thereof--influences the very thoughts that character has and the decisions he/she makes. Ultimately, the novel shows how when a thought travels across the mind, a story is being told. The characters are constantly telling themselves stories, constantly mythologizing their own lives. One is the stranger in Camus' The Stranger (Freddy, the main character's son), another is the American rugged individual (Howard Elman, the main character), another the political mastermind who's going to "get the girl" and "tame the shrew" (Harold Flagg), another the downtrodden salt of the earth who shall inherit that very earth (Elenore), and yet another the jet-setter who can shape her surroundings to her will (Zoe Cutter). In the background of all these characters are the title's dogs of March, the domestic animals that become increasingly wild in the woods and run down deer to rip them apart, not to eat but just to kill for the pleasure of killing. And as the dogs cultivate this private and twisted side of their lives, so, too, do the human characters cultivate two sides to their lives as they try to resolve their conflicts. One man assassinates peoples' characters even as he puts on a smiling face during city council meetings. Another chainsaws a cow in half as he puts on the act (or perhaps non-act) of being the town "idiot." And in an interesting inversion, the antagonist (or so she's positioned in the story, but this novel deals with reality so there are no clear-cut "good guys" or "bad guys) cultivates the public image of NYC-efficient ruthlessness when in fact she's seeking family connection and human warmth; she finds this kind of connection in the main character's daughter (and, in a different way, his teenage son).
A sidenote: The omniscient POV is so skillfully done that even when it pulls a Tolstoy-like move and goes into the POV of, for instance, a cat keeping count of the humans in a room, the resulting shift in the narrative feels utterly organic and believable. This is a book that isn't afraid to take chances with literary techniques, and yet its doesn't make the typical mistake of applying them with exuberant clumsiness. Like Elman himself, it skillfully picks the right tools for the job.
Perhaps all of this suggests that The Dogs of March is so intellectual and so artistic that it doesn't leave room for a simply told good story. This isn't the case. The Dogs of March deals with a loom factory laying off its workers, a rich Manhattan widow showing up in the woods of New Hampshire and disrupting the town with a mix of good and bad intentions, a comic marriage proposal that keeps not happening, and infidelity on multiple levels (man betraying wife, son betraying father, father betraying daughter, man betraying society, and much more). But even though this book expertly weaves back and forth between the characters' inner lives and their external circumstances, this is still not the kind of novel whose interest relies wholly on external events. Like most of the greatest works, this book uses its plot in part as a vehicle to explore the deepest questions. Does God exist? If so, what is His nature? Is there an afterlife? How can man be moral in society? How does he reconcile his public and private lives? How does societal injustice shape society itself by deforming all of its individual members--both the have's and the have-not's? What on earth is a grown-up? The novel expertly weaves back and forth between the normal lives of its characters and their inner worlds, revealing tragic miscommunications and startling overlaps. The novel therefore demands a lot of the reader, the way William Faulkner and Melville do. It's not meant to be light airplane or train ride fare. It's meant to expand the way we see the world. One way it did that for me was get me to question what a true adult really is. The novel shows us a man who seems financially independent and responsible; he's a parent and has struggled throughout his life to work up to the position of a foreman. He's loyal to his boss and has raised and provided for several children. And yet he's trapped in a pattern of his own aggressive and patriarchal behaviors. When he breaks that pattern in his fifties (during the novel's climax), he finally becomes a true adult in the fullest sense of the word. It's as if adulthood is in the very act of freeing one's self from one's past, in the act of allowing one's former self to father one's current self but without passing on old sins. The Dogs of March is like a coming-of-age story, for one who has already come of age.
One of my favorite things about the book is that is refuses to pander to the sensational. Over and over again, the inherently interesting plot invites it to become a thriller, mystery, or even a romance. It could easily become a story of ultra-violence, of explosive conflicts, or of total scandal. But it adheres to the Literary with a capitol "L" and realistically shows us how events play out. It thus conveys how life actually feels. There's an emergent sense of genuine truth about all of the characters and the storyline. This sense of truth includes even the stranger plot elements, like a showdown between man and beast in the woods where the laws that govern everyday life seem temporarily suspended. These kind of events come and go without making the reader question their validity in the least. They are so deeply planted in the story's realism that they feel inevitable, even spiritually true.
By bringing us to acute moments in the language and story, by showing us like no other novel I've read how the shoreline between a man and his circumstances are so continually erased over and over again, The Dogs of March deserves to be a classic. In my particular copy, there's a handwritten note on the front flap: "Mary--If we insist on living in New Hampshire, we should know about this--Nancy." I'd amend the message. If you insist on living in America, you should know about this incredible work.
The first volume of the "Darby Series" by Ernest Hebert was well written, descriptive and lyrical in some places. Even though the book was written some time ago, readers of a certain age and inclination will be warmed by the events and described and characters brought to life by the authors obvious love and respect for his people. I don't say this with any condescension, Ernest Heberts celebration and affection for the fading numbers of the working class is well known. By his own description, "Hick Lit" is what this book and many of his other volumes are about. The people are flinty, passionate and willing to live life on it's terms. Good stuff for those who like their rural tales served up with credibility and grit.
Fiquei surpreendida com este livro. Fico normalmente surpreendida pela positiva quando compro um livro a custo zero e descubro que este livro deveria ser vendido pelo menos por cinco ou seis euros. É um bom estudo sobre a psicologia de quem passou pela vida tendo pouco ou quase nada. Examina a mente de forma imparcial, as lutas e dificuldades de quem não consegue vingar na vida por falta de intelecto, não de inteligência da alma humana.
O livro relata a história de Howard e Elenore, cinquentões (mais ou menos, pois Howard não sabe a sua idade ao certo) que vivem numa pequena cidade chamada Darby, no interior dos EUA. Howard e Elenore têm 4 filhos: Heather, Charlene, Sherry Ann (fugida há anos e nunca mais vista) e Freddy (rato de biblioteca vegetariano, como eu). Vivem uma vida recatada e simples, mas a verdadeira dificuldade começa quando Howard decepa um dedo numa máquina de tear na empresa onde trabalha como mecânico. O seu sonho era ter uma empresa de camionagem mas, por se achar demasiado simplório e saloio, deixa esse sonho de lado, até ao dia em que a empresa fecha e ele fica quase inválido, numa idade demasiado avançada para arranjar novamente um emprego que não lhe retire toda a dignidade masculina que tem.
A partir daqui a história constrói tensão e... murcha. Gostei muito da tensão que construiu até este ponto, em que de repente me vejo a olhar para a mente dos personagens envolvidos na trama, tendo Howard como o ponto principal e pivô, sobre o qual o enredo gira. Seria interessante se ao longo do retrato psicológico de todos envolvidos, houvesse algum desenvolvimento da prosa, pois acabei por me sentir tentada a fazer spreading em algumas partes pois acabou por se tornar demasiado maçador. Não me entendam mal, eu adorei a prosa deste autor: fluida, fácil de compreender, lírica em algumas partes, o que achei interessante no meio de alguns palavrões aqui e ali. Gostei do livro, recomendo, e talvez a parte maçadora para mim seja interessante para outros leitores. Nunca vi um livro que relatasse tão bem o que vai na cabeça de quem se acha menos capaz por ter tido menos oportunidades na vida.
Read this one a long time ago, but the memories of the character's junk of a front yard in rural New England are still vivid. His string of bad luck begins right in the first pages when he looses his finger in a textile machine in a factory, and then it just goes downhill. His lower class background as he fights against the upper class establishment is symbolized by the dogs of March who run in packs to chase the winter-weakened deer. A real look at poverty and how folk gang up to kick a man when he's down.
Great story about small town New Hampshire and class conflict. The main character, Howard Elman is full of reasons to judge him yet thanks to Ernest Hebert's compassion, I can only sympathize with him. As someone who lives in a town that still holds town meeting, I especially enjoyed the truthful description of this ritual.
I really tried to like this, but I couldn't even finish. It drug and kept going off on random tangents that made me want to doze off. I wouldn't recommend this one.
This is a memorable book. Mostly, we see the world of Darby, NH through the eyes of Howard Elman. Despite having no education, Howard's deep thinking brings the reader from losing his job at a textile mill to having peace of mind and working to improve himself in many ways at the end of the story. In between he must battle personal and actual demons. Excellent writing describes the people and town of Darby in lyrical and emotional prose that, at times, will leave the reader as breathless as the main characters.
Eventually, I will read the 6 other books in The Darby Chronicles.
I generally enjoyed the book, although it took me about 100 pages to begin to get into it. Howard Elman, the main character, can be summed up by Hebert's description: "[a]ll his life he had misunderstood the phrase 'bull in a china shop' to be a compliment." As the reader progresses through the book, she is left with the feeling that Howard is hurtling toward a specific fate. Fortunately, a few twists and turns prevent the book from ending with what might have easily been a pat conclusion.
I read this a long time ago (it wasn't even in my Goodreads "read" shelf). I'm going to see the author, Ernest Hebert, interviewed this weekend and thought it would more worthwhile if I skimmed it again. I'm not skimming, I don't remember any of it and it is excellent. Small town life in rural New Hampshire. That's where I live. Great!
Exquisite writing, bringing a town and its inhabitants vividly alive.
This is a classic. All the beauty, humor and pathos of a world most have never experienced brought startlingly to life. The work of a great artist. Can't wait to read the other books of the Chronicles. Can't believe I haven't discovered this author until now.
Very descriptive tale that paints a realistic picture of lower-class/lower-middle-class life in the rural cranies of New Englad. I can't remember much about it but it was pretty good. Check it totally out.
This book was recommended to me after I mentioned that I had been getting into New England fiction. So far I like it, very honest about New Englanders.
I am still unsure about the ending, it really made me think, still trying to unravel it
Very spicy. My buddy says he genuinely knew these people, and while I could recognize the caricature of the rich and liberal-coded antagonists, I hardly knew the protagonist at all. That certainly doesn't mean I ever doubted him at all, but merely that my milieu is too sheltered and small.
There are certain scenes that have really stuck with me, especially the deer-running. It was so vulgar and perhaps even lewd, that I struggle to forget them, and I wonder in fact if deer running is an equally true occurrence as Howard and as truly violent as depicted here. If so, I'm hardly sure I want a dog (of March?) at all.
Brutality, ignorance, hopelessness, inarticulateness. The cast of unlikable characters in a fictional New Hampshire town makes for a fascinating and powerful read.
The author is a former editor at the Keene Sentinel and uses many local references. The characters are recognizable as former and present rural neighbors where I live and grew up.
Highly recommended for all, but especially for those who grew up in rural New England.
Fortunately, a quick read. The characters are hard to like although I did develop a kind of condescending pity for them.
The chapter on the town meeting was a hoot and a half; I enjoyed it so much that I had my small town, New Hampshire-raised husband read it. His subsequent story about his town voting on a fire engine was even funnier.
So, amusing in parts. Exasperating in others.
Maybe I'm just too much of a suburban-raised, city person to appreciate it.
Came across this series in a bookstore in NH. Something about this drew me in. Big negatives for racism. Some content belongs on the “men writing women” subreddit. Some plot points just kind of fizzled in an abrupt, inconsistent manner where it seemed he just wanted to end the book. Generally enjoyed the writing style otherwise.
I've been meaning to read this for years, and I'm so glad I finally did. Set somewhere about here, all the warts of NH life in the seventies are lovingly explored. The description of the attendees at town meeting, divided into farmers, commuters, new people and shack people, is for the ages. If you live here, you have to read it.
I have mixed feelings about this book. The prose were beautiful. It was very character driven and I just didn’t care about any of the characters so it was a struggle to get through. I don’t mind unlikeable character but these were uninteresting as well.
I liked this book but I really wanted to love it. Howard and Zoe seem to be inconsistent characters. Surprisingly, the supporting characters are not inconsistent. For example, I was surprised to see Howard going to a party at Zoe's house. This is the same man that has the Hilly Billy king as his best friend and has worked as an illiterate laborer in a factory his whole life. Zoe is a rich socialite. Not only would Howard have NOT gone to her party he would have felt horribly out of place at it if his wife had insisted they go. Zoe ends up being Mother Theresa at the end.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Tale reflecting the change that has come over the working man
The novel has interesting insights throughout. It is well written, and the happenings between the main characters are real and gritty. It tells the story of the downfall of the opportunities for the man (or woman) who used to be destined to work at an often repetitive job to support his family. The problems that these often less educated people encounter when trying to become employed after losing a job with which they have been comfortable are well known to today's older workers. The resilience of such an older job seeker is also evident later in the novel. The relationship and caring between an aging married couple is touching. Also explored is the tearing asunder of The ties between the father with older American values and his various mostly grown children who seek to follow more modern paths is tempered with familial caring and love. All in all an enjoyable and worthwhile read.
The writing is so descriptive and creative the entire book sort of feels like an endless free-form poem. I love the author's ability to manipulate language...I don't like the author's attempt to tell a story. Like toast without butter, there was a sense of potential but it was dry from start to finish. A few quirky sections fooled me into thinking the novel was surely about to pick up if I could just get through the next chapter. It's dark and sad and lonely in this fictional world...and all in all, pretty dull - though really it shouldn't be. Strange and normal life, both, for some reason, sound monotone in this book. Maybe it's too mature or gritty or...something...for me to truly appreciate. Maybe when life has passed me by this story will enlighten me.
"What we have here is a failure to communicate." That about sums up the frustration and anger of the characters in this book--both the rich and the poor. I do not mean this in a dismissive or trivial way--this failure of communication is at the heart of the poverty most of the characters of this book suffer through.
This reminds me of a new setting (New Hampshire) for Erskin Caldwell and Flannery O'Connor--in a good way. It is a brilliant, moving, compelling, sensitive book, and one I am so very happy I stumbled upon. I have no idea why Hebert isn't as well known as others, such as Caldwell and O'Connor, but after reading this, I have no doubt that he should be.