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Ghost Dogs: On Killers and Kin
Essays from the literary master and bestselling author of Townie on a life of challenges, contradictions, and fulfillments During childhood summers in Louisiana, Andre’s grandfather taught him that men’s work is hard. Ever after, whether tracking down a drug lord in Mexico as a bounty hunter or grappling with privilege while living with a rich girlfriend in New York City, Andre worked―at being a better worker and a better human being. In his longest essay, “If I Owned a Gun,” he reflects on the empowerment and shame he felt in keeping a gun, and his decision, ultimately, to give it up. Elsewhere, he writes of violent youth and of settled domesticity and fatherhood; about the omnipresent expectations and contradictions of masculinity; about the things writers remember and those they forget. In conversation with writers and thinkers from Rilke to Rumi to Tim O’Brien, Ghost Dogs renders moments of personal revelation with emotional generosity and stylistic grace, ultimately standing as essential witness and testimony to the art of nonfiction.
288 pages, Hardcover
First published March 5, 2024
90 people are currently reading
4557 people want to read
About the author
Andre Dubus III
39 books1,124 followersAndre Dubus III is the author of The Garden of Last Days, House of Sand and Fog (a #1 New York Times bestseller, Oprah’s Book Club pick, and finalist for the National Book Award) and Townie, winner of an American Academy of Arts and Letters Award in Literature. His writing has received many honors, including a Guggenheim Fellowship, a National Magazine Award, and two Pushcart Prizes. He lives with his family north of Boston.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 86 reviews
October 20, 2024
Townie, published in 2011, is possibly the most haunting memoir I’ve read. It tells of the author’s tough upbringing in rough New England towns and how his violent past eventually shaped him into the man he now is. This books builds on Townie, it’s a series of essays – more often than not born out of memories of events in his life or related to people he was, or still is, close to – in which Dubus reflects his past and attempts to draw learning from it. Andre is the son of the renowned short story writer of the same name and first cousin to renowned novelist James Lee Burke (who he doesn’t mention here and possibly has had little contact with, their families having lived far apart from each other). So there is writing in his blood, so to speak, but he says here that although he's always enjoyed words and has always written, for a very long time he didn’t consider himself a writer.
For most of his early life, in fact right up to the time House of Sand and Fog, his third book, became a success he'd earned no real money from his endeavours. By the time money did start to come in, he was in his forties and hadn’t owned a house or even ever lived in a house that wasn’t rented. to this point, his income had primarily come from his work as a carpenter and a night-time barman as well as his wife’s earnings as a dancer and a dance instructor.
He talks of his relationship with his father, who’d left his mother quite early in his life but who’d stayed in touch and remained close through to his death. Around the time of his fiftieth birthday, his father lost a leg following a motor accident, he’d been mowed down on an interstate highway after he stopped to assist at the scene of an accident. He battled pain and depression for the remainder of his life. A really touching anecdote recalls the time Andre took his dad to an award ceremony where he met his fellow acclaimed short story writer Raymond Carver for the first and only time. Carver was to die shortly after this meeting.
Another reminiscence tells of the time when he’d just met the lady who was to become his wife and he took her up the roof of the New York Marriott Marquis hotel, in Times Square (coincidentally the hotel I stayed in during my only visit to the city). They looked down at the lights, the cars, and the tiny people below – a scene I can vividly recall from the floor to ceiling window of my room, more than forty floors up. The length of the stories – because stories is how they felt to me – varied considerably: some were barely a page or two in length whilst others, such as his rumination on his history with guns and his concluding desire to have nothing more to do with them, being of almost novella length.
There’s a sense of jeopardy in just about every piece, and though some are sad, others are unbelievably powerful in their messages of love and hope. A letter to his sons on the subject of love made me pause for an hour or more, so struck was I by it that I simply needed time to reflect, to clarify my thoughts and to attempt to rank myself on the pecking order of familial love. I’d call it all emotionally draining, but that feels like it contains a negative, and I really have no negative thoughts about this book. It’s full of honesty, humbleness, and clearly articulated feelings about how things, and above all people, have impacted him through his life, and also what lessons he’s drawn from this.
This is a deeply personal book. Some might find it somewhat self-ingulgent but certainly not, I believe, self-aggrandising. At heart, I think the author is simply a man who loves his family, acknowledges his weaknesses, and strives to be a better person. I guess we can all take something from that.
My sincere thanks to W. W. Norton & Company for providing an advanced reader copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
For most of his early life, in fact right up to the time House of Sand and Fog, his third book, became a success he'd earned no real money from his endeavours. By the time money did start to come in, he was in his forties and hadn’t owned a house or even ever lived in a house that wasn’t rented. to this point, his income had primarily come from his work as a carpenter and a night-time barman as well as his wife’s earnings as a dancer and a dance instructor.
He talks of his relationship with his father, who’d left his mother quite early in his life but who’d stayed in touch and remained close through to his death. Around the time of his fiftieth birthday, his father lost a leg following a motor accident, he’d been mowed down on an interstate highway after he stopped to assist at the scene of an accident. He battled pain and depression for the remainder of his life. A really touching anecdote recalls the time Andre took his dad to an award ceremony where he met his fellow acclaimed short story writer Raymond Carver for the first and only time. Carver was to die shortly after this meeting.
Another reminiscence tells of the time when he’d just met the lady who was to become his wife and he took her up the roof of the New York Marriott Marquis hotel, in Times Square (coincidentally the hotel I stayed in during my only visit to the city). They looked down at the lights, the cars, and the tiny people below – a scene I can vividly recall from the floor to ceiling window of my room, more than forty floors up. The length of the stories – because stories is how they felt to me – varied considerably: some were barely a page or two in length whilst others, such as his rumination on his history with guns and his concluding desire to have nothing more to do with them, being of almost novella length.
There’s a sense of jeopardy in just about every piece, and though some are sad, others are unbelievably powerful in their messages of love and hope. A letter to his sons on the subject of love made me pause for an hour or more, so struck was I by it that I simply needed time to reflect, to clarify my thoughts and to attempt to rank myself on the pecking order of familial love. I’d call it all emotionally draining, but that feels like it contains a negative, and I really have no negative thoughts about this book. It’s full of honesty, humbleness, and clearly articulated feelings about how things, and above all people, have impacted him through his life, and also what lessons he’s drawn from this.
This is a deeply personal book. Some might find it somewhat self-ingulgent but certainly not, I believe, self-aggrandising. At heart, I think the author is simply a man who loves his family, acknowledges his weaknesses, and strives to be a better person. I guess we can all take something from that.
My sincere thanks to W. W. Norton & Company for providing an advanced reader copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
February 15, 2024
'what we put into this world always comes back to us in one form or another...'.
After reading, and enjoying, Andre Dubus's 'Such Kindness' earlier this year, I was keen to grab this latest book full of his musings.
'Ghost Dogs' is a book of moments. Moments of love, moments of hate, moments of spontaneity, moments of gratitude and joy followed by moments of sadness and reflection: thoughtful moments. It is a book that is easy to pick up and put down, and ruminate upon regardless. Some of the essays compound upon each other, while others are just a brief, deep dive. I took away two main thoughts after reading this book: fear begets fear, which leads to anger and hate, and the hypocrisy of self-identity (what you admire in yourself, you might loathe in others and vice versa).
Overall, this is a great book if you feel in a contemplative mood. It's easy to pick off a story, take it away, and go back for more another day or immediately after. Such reflections are sure to provide epiphanies for any reader.
Thank you NetGalley and W. W. Norton and Company for the opportunity to read and review this advanced copy.
After reading, and enjoying, Andre Dubus's 'Such Kindness' earlier this year, I was keen to grab this latest book full of his musings.
'Ghost Dogs' is a book of moments. Moments of love, moments of hate, moments of spontaneity, moments of gratitude and joy followed by moments of sadness and reflection: thoughtful moments. It is a book that is easy to pick up and put down, and ruminate upon regardless. Some of the essays compound upon each other, while others are just a brief, deep dive. I took away two main thoughts after reading this book: fear begets fear, which leads to anger and hate, and the hypocrisy of self-identity (what you admire in yourself, you might loathe in others and vice versa).
Overall, this is a great book if you feel in a contemplative mood. It's easy to pick off a story, take it away, and go back for more another day or immediately after. Such reflections are sure to provide epiphanies for any reader.
Thank you NetGalley and W. W. Norton and Company for the opportunity to read and review this advanced copy.
April 16, 2024
With the care and diligence of an archeologist, Dubus has excavated memories of his life and laid them bare on the page. These deeply personal essays focus on family relationships, writing, his visceral loathing of bullies, his struggles with gun ownership, and his laudable insight into the vulnerability of women everywhere. Ghost Dogs is a shining gem of a book. My only complaint is that most of the stories have been previously published and have not been edited for redundancy.
I received a drc from the publisher via NetGalley.
I received a drc from the publisher via NetGalley.
February 1, 2024
Something about the way this author writes - - I just love it. Just an outstanding storyteller, whether fiction or non-fiction. I have not read his memoir, Townie (I will now), but this book also has the feeling of a memoir. It's a series of essays, each giving insights into Dubus' adult life. He's especially insightful when it comes to trauma in his childhood that manifests itself in adulthood and the interesting appeal of violence to men.
My one complaint about the book is that the essay format yielded some repetition. As if each essay is perfectly standalone and not part of a book. Some details are repeated, and that does allow the reader to dip in and dip out of the essays more readily; the order of them doesn't seem especially important. But the repetition seemed unnecessary.
I loved House of Sand and Fog so happy to be reminded that there's a lot more for me to read from Mr. Dubus. Looking forward to it!
My one complaint about the book is that the essay format yielded some repetition. As if each essay is perfectly standalone and not part of a book. Some details are repeated, and that does allow the reader to dip in and dip out of the essays more readily; the order of them doesn't seem especially important. But the repetition seemed unnecessary.
I loved House of Sand and Fog so happy to be reminded that there's a lot more for me to read from Mr. Dubus. Looking forward to it!
August 12, 2024
I loved every word of this book and it was made even better by the author being the reader. I didn’t realize how this man’s story/life was going to pull me in and cause me to reflect on my own life and family dynamics. When I read this I thought “this is a good human being, not perfect and we need more people like him.”
May 17, 2024
A forthright and honest, at times painfully honest, series of autobiographical essays that cover issues such as living with trauma, loving one’s family, and suddenly becoming wealthy after a lifetime of poverty.
I actually felt drained after reading some of the chapters as I was so deeply drawn into Dubus’ life stories.
A downside to reading essays like this is the facts often repeat themselves, which can be tedious. The copy I have is a library book, otherwise I would take a longer time to read this as it’s a lot to take in.
I actually felt drained after reading some of the chapters as I was so deeply drawn into Dubus’ life stories.
A downside to reading essays like this is the facts often repeat themselves, which can be tedious. The copy I have is a library book, otherwise I would take a longer time to read this as it’s a lot to take in.
April 24, 2024
The written word carries the possibility of broadening truths which "make the rest of us more awake and realized and alive."
Andre Dubus III, author of National Book Award-nominated House of Sand and Fog, digs deep and shares his life experiences over the course of several essays in Ghost Dogs: On Killers and Kin.
Andre, son of the acclaimed short story writer who shares his same first and last, was raised by a single mother in the half-dead mill towns of New England. His deeply personal reflections on life run the gamut and include...
His distanced relationship with his father, and how they came together later in life through a shared love of writing. One of his essays recounts accompanying his father to an awards ceremony and meeting the (also) acclaimed short story writer, Raymond Carver. Both Carver and Dubus Senior reportedly taught each other's works in the classes they each professored. Although meeting only the one time, and only knowing one another through their respective works, both authors repeated "I love you" before parting ways by evening's end.
Growing up poor - sometimes evicted to sleeping the night off in his mother's car, nicknamed "the pig." Andre, too, reflects on a romantic relationship he once had with a girl who had a $2M trust fund, describing her as "lovely and smart and kind," but from the Land of Yes whereas he was from the Land of No.
His decision to not keep guns in his family home, having had two near fatal encounters in his own life. "[G]uns, especially loaded ones, call us to use them," he shares. In fact, the topic of guns is but one essay that illustrates Dubus and his reckoning with the violent surroundings he grew up in, as fans of his may recall from his hard-hitting memoir, Townie. This reckoning courses through his veins, and only his better nature reminds him to show compassion, to build understanding, and - instead of throwing a right cross at some asshole at the bar - confronting aggression with both humanity and humility.
Ghost Dogs is an enormously powerful read. I'll leave you with another quote as Dubus said it best: "...the layered texture of our lives is shared by others;" and "reading one person's story can bring us more fully back into our own."
5 out of 5
Andre Dubus III, author of National Book Award-nominated House of Sand and Fog, digs deep and shares his life experiences over the course of several essays in Ghost Dogs: On Killers and Kin.
Andre, son of the acclaimed short story writer who shares his same first and last, was raised by a single mother in the half-dead mill towns of New England. His deeply personal reflections on life run the gamut and include...
His distanced relationship with his father, and how they came together later in life through a shared love of writing. One of his essays recounts accompanying his father to an awards ceremony and meeting the (also) acclaimed short story writer, Raymond Carver. Both Carver and Dubus Senior reportedly taught each other's works in the classes they each professored. Although meeting only the one time, and only knowing one another through their respective works, both authors repeated "I love you" before parting ways by evening's end.
Growing up poor - sometimes evicted to sleeping the night off in his mother's car, nicknamed "the pig." Andre, too, reflects on a romantic relationship he once had with a girl who had a $2M trust fund, describing her as "lovely and smart and kind," but from the Land of Yes whereas he was from the Land of No.
His decision to not keep guns in his family home, having had two near fatal encounters in his own life. "[G]uns, especially loaded ones, call us to use them," he shares. In fact, the topic of guns is but one essay that illustrates Dubus and his reckoning with the violent surroundings he grew up in, as fans of his may recall from his hard-hitting memoir, Townie. This reckoning courses through his veins, and only his better nature reminds him to show compassion, to build understanding, and - instead of throwing a right cross at some asshole at the bar - confronting aggression with both humanity and humility.
Ghost Dogs is an enormously powerful read. I'll leave you with another quote as Dubus said it best: "...the layered texture of our lives is shared by others;" and "reading one person's story can bring us more fully back into our own."
5 out of 5
March 9, 2024
because these essays were pulled from previously published works, they can be a little repetitive when read as a collection but they are truly, wonderfully written
April 24, 2024
Tease: Have you read André Dubus III’s inimitable memoir “Townie”? Must read. Nothing else like it. He has shared in several interviews quite a gift: that the essays in “Ghost Dogs: On Killers and Kin” are what he LEFT OUT of memoir “Townie”! You do not need to read “Townie” to gain full value from Ghost Dogs” — but its impact will be exponentially more valuable if you do.
I think that publisher W. W. Norton should release a 2-book set that includes “Townie” + “Ghost Dogs: On Killers and Kin”. Yes, I’ll make that recommendation.
Everything from working as a bail bondsman to capture a drug cartel leader in Mazatlán, Mexico (the “Killers” of title); living in 1980s Manhattan with a wealthy girlfriend from another world than his; domestic life on Massachusetts’ north shore with forever-family: his modern-dance wife Fontaine of 35 years & three now-grown kids; building his own home with his brother & wife; his maternal grandfather Pappy’s fierce work ethic in Fishville, Louisiana; why he doesn’t own a gun anymore; truly unusual past experiences with dogs; & always his writing, writing, writing. Goldmine. His “Kin” includes four very intriguing generations: his own; his memorable parents & grandparents; & his three now- grown children.
Tantalizing if you’ve read anything by André Dubus III — ‘Dubus’ rhymes with ‘profuse’ — including “The House of Sand and Fog” — & if you have not yet, do buckle up. You’re in for quite a ride and extraordinary experience.
I have not yet written my own complete reader review of these richly nourishing essays — must digest thoroughly first & first-reading reviews are premature for me. Probably listening to Audible he recorded for this book (and most of his others) will be a valuable resource for aiding digestion: he worked as an active too in his 20s & has a resonant, excellent voice. Meanwhile, comments made by writer Dani Shapiro on “Ghost Dogs: On Killers and Kin” are well worth sharing as fitting tribute to the masterpiece: “Ghost Dogs: Killers and Kin”:
“André Dubus III is a literary treasure. These tender, elegant essays come to us directly from his battered heart, his noble soul, his powerful reckoning with the legacy of his childhood. To read this book is to touch the pulsing core of what it is to be human.” [Dani Shapiro]
“Powerful Reckoning” — powerful words. Agreed.
I think that publisher W. W. Norton should release a 2-book set that includes “Townie” + “Ghost Dogs: On Killers and Kin”. Yes, I’ll make that recommendation.
Everything from working as a bail bondsman to capture a drug cartel leader in Mazatlán, Mexico (the “Killers” of title); living in 1980s Manhattan with a wealthy girlfriend from another world than his; domestic life on Massachusetts’ north shore with forever-family: his modern-dance wife Fontaine of 35 years & three now-grown kids; building his own home with his brother & wife; his maternal grandfather Pappy’s fierce work ethic in Fishville, Louisiana; why he doesn’t own a gun anymore; truly unusual past experiences with dogs; & always his writing, writing, writing. Goldmine. His “Kin” includes four very intriguing generations: his own; his memorable parents & grandparents; & his three now- grown children.
Tantalizing if you’ve read anything by André Dubus III — ‘Dubus’ rhymes with ‘profuse’ — including “The House of Sand and Fog” — & if you have not yet, do buckle up. You’re in for quite a ride and extraordinary experience.
I have not yet written my own complete reader review of these richly nourishing essays — must digest thoroughly first & first-reading reviews are premature for me. Probably listening to Audible he recorded for this book (and most of his others) will be a valuable resource for aiding digestion: he worked as an active too in his 20s & has a resonant, excellent voice. Meanwhile, comments made by writer Dani Shapiro on “Ghost Dogs: On Killers and Kin” are well worth sharing as fitting tribute to the masterpiece: “Ghost Dogs: Killers and Kin”:
“André Dubus III is a literary treasure. These tender, elegant essays come to us directly from his battered heart, his noble soul, his powerful reckoning with the legacy of his childhood. To read this book is to touch the pulsing core of what it is to be human.” [Dani Shapiro]
“Powerful Reckoning” — powerful words. Agreed.
January 24, 2024
To anyone who will listen to me, my number one choice as a memoir has always been “Townie” by Andre Dubus III. So as I read “Ghost Dogs”, his collection of short stories, I leaned towards those that touched on his angry, troubled, difficult childhood into his early adulthood, before he finally escaped New England, and went to the Midwest for college, where he discovered a more productive and fulfilling path as a writer. The other essays in the book bring a piece of his history that he did not cover in depth in that memoir, which were the summers he was able to spend with his mother‘s parents in Louisiana and how that also significantly shaped him.
My one critique is that some of the chapters literally have the same phraseology or even verbatim sentences that appeared in multiple stories, and I would’ve thought they would’ve been edited in such a way as to not seem like duplicate entries. It just struck me that each of these chapters was probably published individually at one point, but when put into this book the almost exact sentences regarding his single mom raising them and being so poor came across as repetitive and as if the reader couldn’t retain that image from the prior story. It left me feeling that the redundant sentences should have at the very least been rephrased to make them stand alone. Maybe give the same message but with a different image for the reader to ponder.
But overall I enjoyed this collection. My two favorite chapters were the aforementioned “If I Owned a Gun” by another reviewer, and especially the last story called “Relapse”, which I think explores in an interesting way how childhood trauma can still live within you; still bubble up to the top and want to present itself; is clearly PTSD waiting to be revisited, and how even if you try your hardest to ignore those feelings, they can arise and overtake you with certain triggering moments. I think Andre Dubus III recognizes this within himself, and it was interesting to me how he explored this tension that co-exists with his normally calm and ordered family life. I’m still firmly in this author’s fan camp!
My one critique is that some of the chapters literally have the same phraseology or even verbatim sentences that appeared in multiple stories, and I would’ve thought they would’ve been edited in such a way as to not seem like duplicate entries. It just struck me that each of these chapters was probably published individually at one point, but when put into this book the almost exact sentences regarding his single mom raising them and being so poor came across as repetitive and as if the reader couldn’t retain that image from the prior story. It left me feeling that the redundant sentences should have at the very least been rephrased to make them stand alone. Maybe give the same message but with a different image for the reader to ponder.
But overall I enjoyed this collection. My two favorite chapters were the aforementioned “If I Owned a Gun” by another reviewer, and especially the last story called “Relapse”, which I think explores in an interesting way how childhood trauma can still live within you; still bubble up to the top and want to present itself; is clearly PTSD waiting to be revisited, and how even if you try your hardest to ignore those feelings, they can arise and overtake you with certain triggering moments. I think Andre Dubus III recognizes this within himself, and it was interesting to me how he explored this tension that co-exists with his normally calm and ordered family life. I’m still firmly in this author’s fan camp!
April 8, 2024
This became a slog. I don’t recommend reading it this quickly. There is too much repetition for that I think a good read of these stories might take weeks or months between them so you an kinda forget the five or six things the author repeatedly visits in story after story, again and again, much like this sentence makes the same point more than once. Monotonous.
Maybe one needs to read the Townie book other reviewers rave about — and so does the author in this collection all the money he made from it. But I felt like I learned everything I wanted to about this guy here, plus some.
I read half of it the first night, then found myself skipping paragraphs of later stories as he repeated the same anecdotes or memories.
Can’t recommend this one. Sorry, fans of AD III. Glad it was a library book.
Maybe one needs to read the Townie book other reviewers rave about — and so does the author in this collection all the money he made from it. But I felt like I learned everything I wanted to about this guy here, plus some.
I read half of it the first night, then found myself skipping paragraphs of later stories as he repeated the same anecdotes or memories.
Can’t recommend this one. Sorry, fans of AD III. Glad it was a library book.
September 6, 2024
Reread: September 2024
I've now read a book three times in a year. That might be a first.
Reread: May 2024
It happened with his last release, Such Kindness, and it happened again with Ghost Dogs: I read it, and the book sat in the back of my mind for about a month until I reread it.
This almost never happens. The only books I've read twice in the same year were old favorites, and they were months apart.
Andre Dubus III is in his prime. With Such Kindness and now Ghost Dogs, it only cements his place as my favorite author.
I've now read a book three times in a year. That might be a first.
Reread: May 2024
It happened with his last release, Such Kindness, and it happened again with Ghost Dogs: I read it, and the book sat in the back of my mind for about a month until I reread it.
This almost never happens. The only books I've read twice in the same year were old favorites, and they were months apart.
Andre Dubus III is in his prime. With Such Kindness and now Ghost Dogs, it only cements his place as my favorite author.
December 26, 2024
More like narrative non-fiction than essays - and all the more interesting for it. There is a small amount of repetition and it doesn’t have the linking material a full-blown memoir (like his superb book Townie has). But the collection is far more than the sum of its parts.
Dubus has all the virtues of a realist and has the rare gift of recording what people actually feel. He recalls a little girl from a down-at-heels family helping him with a spot of manual labour. The girl’s father died when she was little: ‘She looked up at me and made a sad face, as if she were longer sad but felt that she still should be, that it wouldn’t be right to say her father was dead without showing me her downturned lips.’
Despite the blurb, only a few of the pieces are about violence, or America’s wearying obsession with firearms, or his sense (correct) that ‘the school bullies have broken into the principal’s office and taken over.’ One is a surprisingly moving essay about nothing more than misunderstanding a former girlfriend who liked knitting. Many more are about being a father, especially of newborn children. I don’t think many fathers will read the essay ‘The Door’ without feeling a charge of recognition travel up their spine.
Another favourite is about his father, Andre Dubus, finally meeting Raymond Carver. The latter is about to be inducted into the American Academy of Arts and Letters and is plainly living on borrowed time. The former has arrived in a wheelchair. Neither has ever met the other, though both have taught each other’s stories in their classes. It’s Carver’s night, the great and good are there to bear witness. Upon hearing that Dubus senior is present, Carver says, ‘He’s here?’ and immediately seeks him out.
Well done that man.
Dubus has all the virtues of a realist and has the rare gift of recording what people actually feel. He recalls a little girl from a down-at-heels family helping him with a spot of manual labour. The girl’s father died when she was little: ‘She looked up at me and made a sad face, as if she were longer sad but felt that she still should be, that it wouldn’t be right to say her father was dead without showing me her downturned lips.’
Despite the blurb, only a few of the pieces are about violence, or America’s wearying obsession with firearms, or his sense (correct) that ‘the school bullies have broken into the principal’s office and taken over.’ One is a surprisingly moving essay about nothing more than misunderstanding a former girlfriend who liked knitting. Many more are about being a father, especially of newborn children. I don’t think many fathers will read the essay ‘The Door’ without feeling a charge of recognition travel up their spine.
Another favourite is about his father, Andre Dubus, finally meeting Raymond Carver. The latter is about to be inducted into the American Academy of Arts and Letters and is plainly living on borrowed time. The former has arrived in a wheelchair. Neither has ever met the other, though both have taught each other’s stories in their classes. It’s Carver’s night, the great and good are there to bear witness. Upon hearing that Dubus senior is present, Carver says, ‘He’s here?’ and immediately seeks him out.
Well done that man.
May 25, 2024
Andre presents several essays about his life experiences and having lived in twenty-four locations before he left home, he has an abundance of material from which to draw. Hunting an escaped villain in Mexico, being unable to pass up a fight in a bar, and dealing with twelve pups that have been abandoned by their moms give the reader a variety of emotions about the life of a writer. A writer is appreciated more by other writers until he does a best seller taking him out of the poverty level and then one can repay all those who have carried you during the drought.
With family in Massachusetts and Louisiana, cultural issues are to be expected and add a little dysfunction, one has ample topics for chapters in this book. I would say it is mostly entertaining.
With family in Massachusetts and Louisiana, cultural issues are to be expected and add a little dysfunction, one has ample topics for chapters in this book. I would say it is mostly entertaining.
October 23, 2024
Strangely enough, I didn't like the main character or his family or his choice of stories he is compelled to tell. I love his books but not memoirs, better never have read this. I just don't care about him, his life is not interesting.
March 23, 2025
This collection of essays, immersed in memory, resiliency, hope and especially, grace, is exquisite writing. At the heart of the essays is love, love that I have come to associate with him, a love that is almost too big to contain, which brought me to my knees more than once. The depth of Debus’ honesty, sharing insights about family and his behavior over years, is humbling. Dogs of our youth loved too much or not enough…the lure of guns…a fight, itching for the first blow, even years after you’ve raised a fist…his relationship with his mother-in-law, his complicated connections with his Louisiana grandfather, the essays reflect the kaleidoscope of Debus’ complex life, and more importantly, maintaining a moral compass.
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May 11, 2024 I have known of Andre Dubus III since my college days. I first encountered him when I attended a book reading at my college campus. He was not reading alone, but with his father the celebrated short story from whom Andre III inherited his name. There was an unmistakably strong bond between the two. Andre was in his twenties then-six years older than me-but already had strong reading voice and impressive writing skills.
The first time I had book signed by him was a small local book store in my home town-he once lived there too. He recognized that I was writer too, thus further impressing me. My connection with him increased further when I joined his writing group. Now when he signed my books, his signatures were personal and encouraging. Further, he always wrote beautiful messages on his books which I bought for my mother. And each time he met her in person, he listened to her intently and with interest that was sincere and not just polite.
To put it simply, my knowledge of Andre Dubus III is that of a kind talented and vibrant man.
This is why Ghost Dogs was my most difficult book of his to read. Though it is essays, all of these essays are personal. Many were not new to me, but equally many were. It has taken me several weeks to process the book and come at it from unbiased opinion. Most strong in my mind are several incidents where he is not 'kind' to animals. One specifically involving his pet dog Rico. What I have come to decide is this; there are people I know personally who may or may not have always been kind to animals. Andre has chosen to bear his soul. So I am taking a step back and judging the book not the man.
Thus I must say Ghost Dogs moved- so much so that there were times I had to close and nurse the clog in throat, built up from the emotion of reading. No one writes like Andre Dubus III. In my opinion he has surpassed his father.
The first time I had book signed by him was a small local book store in my home town-he once lived there too. He recognized that I was writer too, thus further impressing me. My connection with him increased further when I joined his writing group. Now when he signed my books, his signatures were personal and encouraging. Further, he always wrote beautiful messages on his books which I bought for my mother. And each time he met her in person, he listened to her intently and with interest that was sincere and not just polite.
To put it simply, my knowledge of Andre Dubus III is that of a kind talented and vibrant man.
This is why Ghost Dogs was my most difficult book of his to read. Though it is essays, all of these essays are personal. Many were not new to me, but equally many were. It has taken me several weeks to process the book and come at it from unbiased opinion. Most strong in my mind are several incidents where he is not 'kind' to animals. One specifically involving his pet dog Rico. What I have come to decide is this; there are people I know personally who may or may not have always been kind to animals. Andre has chosen to bear his soul. So I am taking a step back and judging the book not the man.
Thus I must say Ghost Dogs moved- so much so that there were times I had to close and nurse the clog in throat, built up from the emotion of reading. No one writes like Andre Dubus III. In my opinion he has surpassed his father.
August 3, 2024
Found it to be very repetitive and then learned it was a book of essays. He has a very unique style of writing and I quite enjoyed this one!
May 18, 2024
I've heard Andre Dubus speak a few times; he's a totally engaging speaker with a good sense of humor. This memoir is thoroughly engaging as well, thoughtful and thought provoking, a portrait of a man who has worked to move on from the difficult childhood and young adulthood that he wrote about in his earlier memoir, Townie. A solid 5 star read for me!
September 6, 2024
This is a really raw book.
In a 1946 book, author Paul Gallico—best remembered now as the author of THE POSEIDON ADVENTURE—wrote something that has been co-opted or slightly reworded by authors ever since. He said, "It is only when you open your veins and bleed onto the page a little that you establish contact with your reader."
This is what Dubus does with this book. It's not an easy book to read by any means, and the reader can almost feel Dubus as he squirms, relaying uncomfortable truths about himself that most of us wouldn't admit.
Dubus, throughout his life, has seemed to struggle with growing up poor, in moving a lot so always being the outcast, in being first bullied, then fighting back and responding with violence, in growing up where physical work was the way to gain respect.
Contrast that with the man who is wealthy, who built his own home and has a safe place for him and his family, who has turned his back on violence and now only wants peace, in making a living putting words on a page.
The reader can feel these paradigm shifts twisting him, and Dubus struggles with them. He loves guns, but refuses to have one in the house. He never wants to fight, but still feels the thrill of it.
I imagine this is much of what John Lennon also struggled with...a violent youth that begged for world peace, an abandoned kid who grew into global adoration, from having little money to having more than he knew what to do with, yet sang of "having no possessions."
Dubus conveys these struggles beautifully. He's a master of language, and he gets to the heart of the issue, then slices into it to reveal those painful truths.
In other reviews, I'm reading the complaints of the repetition of facts, and they're not wrong, there is, however, I suspect these were a collection of separate essays written over different times. Taken separately, the explanations would have been required and, to be honest, while there is repetition, it's also brief.
Andre Dubus III is always someone worth reading, whether it's his fiction, or his non-fiction.
In a 1946 book, author Paul Gallico—best remembered now as the author of THE POSEIDON ADVENTURE—wrote something that has been co-opted or slightly reworded by authors ever since. He said, "It is only when you open your veins and bleed onto the page a little that you establish contact with your reader."
This is what Dubus does with this book. It's not an easy book to read by any means, and the reader can almost feel Dubus as he squirms, relaying uncomfortable truths about himself that most of us wouldn't admit.
Dubus, throughout his life, has seemed to struggle with growing up poor, in moving a lot so always being the outcast, in being first bullied, then fighting back and responding with violence, in growing up where physical work was the way to gain respect.
Contrast that with the man who is wealthy, who built his own home and has a safe place for him and his family, who has turned his back on violence and now only wants peace, in making a living putting words on a page.
The reader can feel these paradigm shifts twisting him, and Dubus struggles with them. He loves guns, but refuses to have one in the house. He never wants to fight, but still feels the thrill of it.
I imagine this is much of what John Lennon also struggled with...a violent youth that begged for world peace, an abandoned kid who grew into global adoration, from having little money to having more than he knew what to do with, yet sang of "having no possessions."
Dubus conveys these struggles beautifully. He's a master of language, and he gets to the heart of the issue, then slices into it to reveal those painful truths.
In other reviews, I'm reading the complaints of the repetition of facts, and they're not wrong, there is, however, I suspect these were a collection of separate essays written over different times. Taken separately, the explanations would have been required and, to be honest, while there is repetition, it's also brief.
Andre Dubus III is always someone worth reading, whether it's his fiction, or his non-fiction.
May 5, 2024
Audiobook read by author. My only complaint about this beautiful book is that the author is stingy about expressing emotion. Saw the author in Portsmouth where he did a reading. Down to earth, feel like I could be friends with him. Pappy is an exceptional essay. I wanted to cry when I read how tender his children were with him after his father died. Beautiful.
I grew up in a similar city atmosphere and understand wanting to give his children a different experience. I did the same and wonder if our children grew up in “the real world.” We do the best we can.
I grew up in a similar city atmosphere and understand wanting to give his children a different experience. I did the same and wonder if our children grew up in “the real world.” We do the best we can.
April 26, 2024
I don’t want to discourage women from reading this because it is terrific for everyone. But think men especially will resonate with what this author writes about in a series of memoir-like essays about work and security and anger and learning to be vulnerable in relationships.
April 17, 2024
Repetitive and thus a quick read. Less a book of essays and more a collection of magazine columns.
March 31, 2024
Towards the very end of “Relapse,” the concluding piece in Ghost Dogs: On Killers and Kin, the new collection of memoir-like essays by Andre Dubus III, the author recounts his eldest son’s carefully pondered response after reading his Dad’s memoir Townie (2011).* Townie lays bare a brutal childhood of neglect and violent fights in various New England mill towns.
. . .”Is that okay, Austin? You don’t think I’m crazy?”
“No, but Dad.” We let go of one another, and I looked into my son’s shadowed face.
“Yeah?”
“I could never write a memoir.”
“Yes you could. You’re a wonderful writer. Of course you can.”
“No, you don’t understand. I have nothing to write about. You and Mom gave us too happy a childhood. We weren’t raised with any conflicts.” (Pg. 266-267).
Is there any nicer compliment that a parent can receive? Don’t most of us strive to make the world a better place for our offspring? And, therein lies the conundrum: With ease comes the threat of mediocrity.** Having nothing to say or write about because no one wants to read about being coddled. Much like Mr. Dubus’ son, I felt the same way after growing up with parents who did not divorce, who stayed in the same rent-stabilized apartment for countless decades, and who made sure I went to college, burdened with no student loans. After graduating, I was horrified that I had nothing to write about. Only after throwing a monkey wrench into my future, shattering my trajectory into a middle-class humdrum existence, by joining a blue-collar sailing union did I really start maturing and understanding perspectives of people who did not have what I did. Over 35 years later, I do not regret my decision. As a result, the point made by the author’s son, Austin, hit me like a hammer. Perhaps it explains my unyielding attraction to the memoirs and fiction of Andre Dubus III.
Mr. Dubus is a brutally honest writer, or more recently, memoirist. His debut novel, The House of Sand and Fog is one of the finer books to illustrate culture clash in American society, the rift between Iranian immigrants in need of asylum and—comparatively—pampered Americans. The author, a magician with prose and insight, is blessed with a rare empathy and absolute honesty which—in turn—blesses his readers. We are all privileged to be able to read what Andre Dubus III writes.
Ghost Dogs: On Killers and Kin fills in many of the blanks left out of Townie. Only one essay in this later collection deals at length or dissects the author’s lifelong attraction to bare knuckle brawling. The other essays deal with—among other topics-- his grandfather, a lifelong Louisiana skilled blue-collar laborer; dogs throughout his life (hence the title); the decision to stop owning a gun; and the author’s father, a very renowned writer who ended up in a wheelchair due to a horrendous accident. The essay recounting his father’s one meeting with Raymond Carver is worth the price of the book alone. Finally, the essays are written in retrospect of a man comfortable in his own skin. A successful author and family man.
As anyone who has read Townie is aware, Andre Dubus III, came from a broken home and grew up in seedy, dilapidated New England mill towns. As he writes—I paraphrase—his childhood was one where his Mother’s car—or car of the moment-- often wouldn’t start. Thus, Andre Dubus III has a lot to relate to anyone who cares about or is blind to socio-economic rifts in U.S. society. America is very stratified. As Mr. Dubus’ son alludes in his reaction to reading Townie, adversity breeds resilience. Survivors gain experience. Experience that can lead to a successful writing career; gifted survivors can impart their hard-found knowledge to others.
In an era where memoir is all the rage, Mr. Dubus succeeds in writing about himself the way an outstanding memoirist should. A memoir should not be an accusation against society, meant to highlight unfairness in the world (Good Lord, there is enough of that), but a chronicle of struggle to overcome one’s own inner demons. I am a handful of years younger than Mr. Dubus, living in a neighboring New England town; I visit Dubus’ town, Newburyport, in a car, one that always starts, bi-weekly to buy wine and cheese and to walk an entitled Shiba Inu along the Merrimac river. Yet, at age 59, I have had to cope with my own fair share of trauma and adversity. What it takes to make that adversity and trauma digestible to others, is the brutal honesty and empathy that is so apparent in everything that Andre Dubus III writes.
______________
*My review of Townie is also posted on Goodreads and complements this review.
**One ex-girlfriend who had just gotten rid of me once recounted that I was “middle-class mediocrity” after an email exchange spat, a phrase that I did not deny.
. . .”Is that okay, Austin? You don’t think I’m crazy?”
“No, but Dad.” We let go of one another, and I looked into my son’s shadowed face.
“Yeah?”
“I could never write a memoir.”
“Yes you could. You’re a wonderful writer. Of course you can.”
“No, you don’t understand. I have nothing to write about. You and Mom gave us too happy a childhood. We weren’t raised with any conflicts.” (Pg. 266-267).
Is there any nicer compliment that a parent can receive? Don’t most of us strive to make the world a better place for our offspring? And, therein lies the conundrum: With ease comes the threat of mediocrity.** Having nothing to say or write about because no one wants to read about being coddled. Much like Mr. Dubus’ son, I felt the same way after growing up with parents who did not divorce, who stayed in the same rent-stabilized apartment for countless decades, and who made sure I went to college, burdened with no student loans. After graduating, I was horrified that I had nothing to write about. Only after throwing a monkey wrench into my future, shattering my trajectory into a middle-class humdrum existence, by joining a blue-collar sailing union did I really start maturing and understanding perspectives of people who did not have what I did. Over 35 years later, I do not regret my decision. As a result, the point made by the author’s son, Austin, hit me like a hammer. Perhaps it explains my unyielding attraction to the memoirs and fiction of Andre Dubus III.
Mr. Dubus is a brutally honest writer, or more recently, memoirist. His debut novel, The House of Sand and Fog is one of the finer books to illustrate culture clash in American society, the rift between Iranian immigrants in need of asylum and—comparatively—pampered Americans. The author, a magician with prose and insight, is blessed with a rare empathy and absolute honesty which—in turn—blesses his readers. We are all privileged to be able to read what Andre Dubus III writes.
Ghost Dogs: On Killers and Kin fills in many of the blanks left out of Townie. Only one essay in this later collection deals at length or dissects the author’s lifelong attraction to bare knuckle brawling. The other essays deal with—among other topics-- his grandfather, a lifelong Louisiana skilled blue-collar laborer; dogs throughout his life (hence the title); the decision to stop owning a gun; and the author’s father, a very renowned writer who ended up in a wheelchair due to a horrendous accident. The essay recounting his father’s one meeting with Raymond Carver is worth the price of the book alone. Finally, the essays are written in retrospect of a man comfortable in his own skin. A successful author and family man.
As anyone who has read Townie is aware, Andre Dubus III, came from a broken home and grew up in seedy, dilapidated New England mill towns. As he writes—I paraphrase—his childhood was one where his Mother’s car—or car of the moment-- often wouldn’t start. Thus, Andre Dubus III has a lot to relate to anyone who cares about or is blind to socio-economic rifts in U.S. society. America is very stratified. As Mr. Dubus’ son alludes in his reaction to reading Townie, adversity breeds resilience. Survivors gain experience. Experience that can lead to a successful writing career; gifted survivors can impart their hard-found knowledge to others.
In an era where memoir is all the rage, Mr. Dubus succeeds in writing about himself the way an outstanding memoirist should. A memoir should not be an accusation against society, meant to highlight unfairness in the world (Good Lord, there is enough of that), but a chronicle of struggle to overcome one’s own inner demons. I am a handful of years younger than Mr. Dubus, living in a neighboring New England town; I visit Dubus’ town, Newburyport, in a car, one that always starts, bi-weekly to buy wine and cheese and to walk an entitled Shiba Inu along the Merrimac river. Yet, at age 59, I have had to cope with my own fair share of trauma and adversity. What it takes to make that adversity and trauma digestible to others, is the brutal honesty and empathy that is so apparent in everything that Andre Dubus III writes.
______________
*My review of Townie is also posted on Goodreads and complements this review.
**One ex-girlfriend who had just gotten rid of me once recounted that I was “middle-class mediocrity” after an email exchange spat, a phrase that I did not deny.
June 27, 2024
Saw this while browsing the new-book section of the library. I'd never read anything by Andre Dubus III (or his father) before.
I found this somewhat uneven. A few of the 18 essays are brief, while others run for 30 or more pages. I read before bedtime, and the longer essays were a challenge. I couldn't/wouldn't commit to another couple dozen pages and ended up stowing the book, though I happily forsake sleep to read other books, mostly fiction.
The first few dozen pages were a bit off-putting, and it had to do with the tone. It felt as though Dubus was trying too hard, too soon. I don't know whether the tone, dynamic or my attitude changed, because I was soon won over, focused on the content.
Dubus writes about difficult topics: poverty, divorce, brokenness, self-doubt, everyday violence and more. I marked nearly a dozen passages that spoke to me. Some of what he writes (fighting his nostalgia for physical altercation and expecting to be disappointed or devastated by relationships with dogs, gun violence and mishaps, to name a few topics) are difficult to read. On one page, I wondered what was being filtered out. On another, it seemed I'd not read anything more raw.
Dubus' skill with words, both bare-knuckle prose and tender reverie, is impressive. What resonated:
"At their backs was a stand of banyan trees, their gray roots clawing up their own trunks like the ghosts of ancestors refusing to leave."
"I found myself marveling at how spare the sentences were and how that magnified the physical gestures of the characters." (I had that reaction to the writing of Dubus and went searching for titles to read by Raymond Carver and Dubus' father.)
"As I write these words now I think of how death is forever stalking the creative writer to get his or her work done."
"Holy. This was one of my father's words. He was a Catholic, and I was not. He believed there was a God who loved him; I did not. He believed he was being watched over, while I felt strongly that I was entirely alone and the only good that would ever come to me would have to come from my own hard work and occasional good luck." Are there any reflective people who don't make these comparisons with previous generations or perceived competitors?
"My father's high-caliber semiautomatics ... could fire off rounds faster than any thoughts you could ever have. That's what scared me; it was too easy to use these weapons without thought. ... A gun in my hands was a nuclear switch for a madman." I struggle with this choice, in a place where being heavily armed is the norm.
"It felt like we were speaking the language of scarcity, the only language we had ever known."
"One of the many things it showed me was just how narcissistic the roots of my own violence were. How clear it became to me that I would rather die a violent death than see a coward in the mirror ever again."
"What became clear to me ... is how much of the layered texture of our lives is shared by others. And how the reading of one person's story can bring us more fully back to our own."
"It is a moment between heartbeats and it is still and without sound, even if the air is loud with screaming voices or live music or cars whizzing by in the street. And while everything is muffled, it is also as clear as a blade and in it is the hovering presence of ancestors."
"I have never been a sports fan and am not one now, but I fear that without sports, without this cultural valve to release pent-up pressure and aggression, primarily in men, there would be even more bloodshed in the streets than there already is."
Now I want to read some of Dubus' fiction, in addition to short stories by his father and Carver.
I found this somewhat uneven. A few of the 18 essays are brief, while others run for 30 or more pages. I read before bedtime, and the longer essays were a challenge. I couldn't/wouldn't commit to another couple dozen pages and ended up stowing the book, though I happily forsake sleep to read other books, mostly fiction.
The first few dozen pages were a bit off-putting, and it had to do with the tone. It felt as though Dubus was trying too hard, too soon. I don't know whether the tone, dynamic or my attitude changed, because I was soon won over, focused on the content.
Dubus writes about difficult topics: poverty, divorce, brokenness, self-doubt, everyday violence and more. I marked nearly a dozen passages that spoke to me. Some of what he writes (fighting his nostalgia for physical altercation and expecting to be disappointed or devastated by relationships with dogs, gun violence and mishaps, to name a few topics) are difficult to read. On one page, I wondered what was being filtered out. On another, it seemed I'd not read anything more raw.
Dubus' skill with words, both bare-knuckle prose and tender reverie, is impressive. What resonated:
"At their backs was a stand of banyan trees, their gray roots clawing up their own trunks like the ghosts of ancestors refusing to leave."
"I found myself marveling at how spare the sentences were and how that magnified the physical gestures of the characters." (I had that reaction to the writing of Dubus and went searching for titles to read by Raymond Carver and Dubus' father.)
"As I write these words now I think of how death is forever stalking the creative writer to get his or her work done."
"Holy. This was one of my father's words. He was a Catholic, and I was not. He believed there was a God who loved him; I did not. He believed he was being watched over, while I felt strongly that I was entirely alone and the only good that would ever come to me would have to come from my own hard work and occasional good luck." Are there any reflective people who don't make these comparisons with previous generations or perceived competitors?
"My father's high-caliber semiautomatics ... could fire off rounds faster than any thoughts you could ever have. That's what scared me; it was too easy to use these weapons without thought. ... A gun in my hands was a nuclear switch for a madman." I struggle with this choice, in a place where being heavily armed is the norm.
"It felt like we were speaking the language of scarcity, the only language we had ever known."
"One of the many things it showed me was just how narcissistic the roots of my own violence were. How clear it became to me that I would rather die a violent death than see a coward in the mirror ever again."
"What became clear to me ... is how much of the layered texture of our lives is shared by others. And how the reading of one person's story can bring us more fully back to our own."
"It is a moment between heartbeats and it is still and without sound, even if the air is loud with screaming voices or live music or cars whizzing by in the street. And while everything is muffled, it is also as clear as a blade and in it is the hovering presence of ancestors."
"I have never been a sports fan and am not one now, but I fear that without sports, without this cultural valve to release pent-up pressure and aggression, primarily in men, there would be even more bloodshed in the streets than there already is."
Now I want to read some of Dubus' fiction, in addition to short stories by his father and Carver.
April 8, 2024
I am reading this, finding it hard to put down. Then, I get to page sixty, the conversation with Carver and the author's father, and I am hit with this attack of raw emotion where I want to go on. Still, I have to pause because it is just too much for me to take in, this beautiful moment between two writers struggling with their health issues and conveying their love to each other through spoken words. I put it down after trying to continue several times and venture outside into the cold, dreary morning to feed my cat, Bebe Starr, to calm my inner energy with this lovely moment captured by a son in his book. Raymond Carver is dying soon and this moment is so touching to read about their connection.
I read on, to where he writes about his firstborn, the medical procedure, and making it through it. His story is inspiring and his son becomes a student. The family connections are lovely to read.
As I kept reading, The section about Mary and the COVID crisis was very touching and heartwarming but it also made me cry at the end of this section. Her beautiful life with her family was where she could carry on without worry until this virus arrived and turned her world in another direction. Still, she kept hope in her heart and reached another birthday for a wonderful celebration of life. Andre treated her well and so did his other family members. He does so much for his family like having that grand celebration for his blind aunt that she would never forget. It would be the best vacation she ever experienced and with her family present to enjoy their company.
I reached the one titled, Ghost Dogs, and I can relate well to his feelings, emotions, and the walls he has put up, because I too, do this with animals and also people. After being let down so often, we tend to do so because the hurt is too much to deal with and we want to protect our hearts! Andre has done this to protect his tender heart from the pain that comes when they are no longer around. This comes through clearly as I read this section.
I have read about his relationships with women, parents, and grandparents. Pappy seemed to be a man that changed Andre's life in many good ways and a teacher to him as they worked side by side during hot, summer days, as his sisters helped their grandmother in the kitchen, and his brother was often a loner. Andre understood his brother but he believed his pappy did not understand either one of them. I love how he writes about these relationships with his family members and how important family is to him. Grandparents are to be cherished and he does this. His aunt is an important person in his life and he thinks about her often and what she is experiencing with losing her sight.
I finished this fantastic collection of writing about this writer's life and felt sad that it was ending. I will miss reading more about this family.
I read on, to where he writes about his firstborn, the medical procedure, and making it through it. His story is inspiring and his son becomes a student. The family connections are lovely to read.
As I kept reading, The section about Mary and the COVID crisis was very touching and heartwarming but it also made me cry at the end of this section. Her beautiful life with her family was where she could carry on without worry until this virus arrived and turned her world in another direction. Still, she kept hope in her heart and reached another birthday for a wonderful celebration of life. Andre treated her well and so did his other family members. He does so much for his family like having that grand celebration for his blind aunt that she would never forget. It would be the best vacation she ever experienced and with her family present to enjoy their company.
I reached the one titled, Ghost Dogs, and I can relate well to his feelings, emotions, and the walls he has put up, because I too, do this with animals and also people. After being let down so often, we tend to do so because the hurt is too much to deal with and we want to protect our hearts! Andre has done this to protect his tender heart from the pain that comes when they are no longer around. This comes through clearly as I read this section.
I have read about his relationships with women, parents, and grandparents. Pappy seemed to be a man that changed Andre's life in many good ways and a teacher to him as they worked side by side during hot, summer days, as his sisters helped their grandmother in the kitchen, and his brother was often a loner. Andre understood his brother but he believed his pappy did not understand either one of them. I love how he writes about these relationships with his family members and how important family is to him. Grandparents are to be cherished and he does this. His aunt is an important person in his life and he thinks about her often and what she is experiencing with losing her sight.
I finished this fantastic collection of writing about this writer's life and felt sad that it was ending. I will miss reading more about this family.
June 16, 2024
Highlights for me:
- Fences and fields: love the concept and illustraion of verbal high wires
- Ghost dogs: strong candidate for saddest thing I've ever ready
- Relapse: honest growth and introspection on changing perceptions of violence over several decades
- Fences and fields: love the concept and illustraion of verbal high wires
- Ghost dogs: strong candidate for saddest thing I've ever ready
- Relapse: honest growth and introspection on changing perceptions of violence over several decades
April 28, 2024
I had the very distinct honor and pleasure of meeting Andre Dubus III in January 2024 at the Writers In Paradise conference at Eckerd College in St. Petersburg, Florida. The authors who attend the conference hold workshops during the day and in the evening, the authors read from their latest works. That part of the conference is open to the public. I have read all of Andre Dubus III's books and had already pre-ordered Ghost Dogs. After the reading, Mr. Dubus headed to the lobby for book signings. I took along two of his books and stood in line. Mr. Dubus is one of the most humble, kind and personable people I've had the pleasure to meet however briefly. Ghost Dogs is a collection of essays of different points in his life - the good times and the bad but most impressive his is decision in his life to lead a life of good and kindness after a very rough upbringing. The two essays that left the strongest impression were the story of his father-in-law giving up his gun after a lifetime of owning it and Mary - the story he read at the writer's conference. I told Mr. Dubus that his work and characters had a big impact on my life. I told him that I worried for his characters and that his life story was a big influence on me. I told him that I never thought I would get to meet him in person - such a prolific and talented writer. My husband was with me and Mr. Dubus asked my husband if he could give me a hug. He seemed so humble and appreciative and happy to know that his work made such an impact. The stories in Ghost Dogs are intimate, sad, inspiring and reflect a life that was turned around due to sheer willpower and hard work.
June 4, 2024
"All my life I've told myself that I hate cruelty and injustice and violence, and I do, that I want the world to be free of them and I do, but how can we be free of anything if we're still sheltering old wounds inside us? The kind that keeps our hands up, our backs to the wall, our eyes scanning the room for danger at every turn? How can anything larger and better and more loving ever enter us unless we lower our hands?"
Ghost Dogs: On Killers And Kin - are eighteen Essays about the Author's inner search for peace from conflicts in his past - as a young adult from getting into too many fights - to constantly having to move from apartment to apartment as a child because his abandoned mother couldn't pay the rent.
It's also about his acceptance at finding unconditional love for his kin - folk, his three children and his loving wife.
The standouts here for me are :
"Carver and Dubus, New York City, 1988":
Which is a touching tribute to the Author's dad Andre Dubus ( also a writer) and the dying Raymond Carver who meet at an awards ceremony for the American Academy Of Arts And Letters. How the two of them come together to share their pure joy and love for each other's work.
"If I Owned A Gun":
Andre Dubus lll's realization of his dangerous and irresponsible use of guns and his awakening to finally rid himself of what has tormented him the most.
( And ) " Mary"
His deep relationship for his wife's ninety - nine year old mother and his attempt to keep her safe during COVID-19.
Ghost Dogs: On Killers And Kin - are eighteen Essays about the Author's inner search for peace from conflicts in his past - as a young adult from getting into too many fights - to constantly having to move from apartment to apartment as a child because his abandoned mother couldn't pay the rent.
It's also about his acceptance at finding unconditional love for his kin - folk, his three children and his loving wife.
The standouts here for me are :
"Carver and Dubus, New York City, 1988":
Which is a touching tribute to the Author's dad Andre Dubus ( also a writer) and the dying Raymond Carver who meet at an awards ceremony for the American Academy Of Arts And Letters. How the two of them come together to share their pure joy and love for each other's work.
"If I Owned A Gun":
Andre Dubus lll's realization of his dangerous and irresponsible use of guns and his awakening to finally rid himself of what has tormented him the most.
( And ) " Mary"
His deep relationship for his wife's ninety - nine year old mother and his attempt to keep her safe during COVID-19.
April 13, 2024
Review: Ghost Dogs (Andre Dubus III) I have now heard Andre Dubus III speak twice at the Music Hall Lounge. This book was presented just a couple of weeks back. He was being interviewed (I think that is a poor word for two authors who sit down together to jam in a literary sense!) by the most impressive Joe Hill (also the second time I've heard him as the discussion leader). One of the finest events I have attended there, and the book... not fiction, but a collection of essays, all dealing with his most ordinary/extraordinary life, from childhood sadness, poverty, violence as he learned to fight back against bullying, to learning of his Louisiana roots, growing via the love of a woman and then the overpowering love for his children into a man still fighting his ghosts (including some painful experiences with dogs in his childhood, hence the title), especially his knee-jerk reaction to situations in which his violence threatens to rear its ugly head again. But I was swept away by the ease and beauty of his writing in the way a good novel does and am in awe of the human and the writer he is/has become. Wonderful book encompassing so many human emotions and so very much sense of being human in this current world.
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