Shaggy Muses: The Dogs Who Inspired Virginia Woolf, Emily Dickinson, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Edith Wharton, and Emily Brontë

by Maureen Adams

“Move over Marley. Make room for Carlo (Emily Dickinson's giant Newfoundland). Or Flush (Elizabeth Barrett Browning's golden cocker spaniel). Or, maybe, Keeper (Emily Bronte's intimidating mastiff mix). In self-contained chapters of "Shaggy Muses," the work of each author is viewed intimately within the context of the canine companions who provided love, comfort and inspiration."
- Elizabeth Taylor, Literary Editor, The Chicago Tribune

“With this book, Adams has created a niche that will thrill those who love literature, biography and dogs.”
- Bark Magazine

“Dog lovers and literary groupies alike will adore SHAGGY MUSES.”
- Bookpage

“These concise biographies are affecting and engaging.”
- Kirkus Reviews

“Written with lively, accessible prose, this absorbing, wholly unique book is a must-read for literature- and dog-lovers alike.”
- Booklist

“Lovers of both dogs and classic writers will identify with this sweet, quirky book.”
- Publishers Weekly

“An intimate look into the lives of famous women authors whose lives were more difficult than we would ever have imagined. Their dogs helped them to survive and create their great works of classic English literature. Lovers of literature and all of those interested in the human/animal bond should read this fascinating book.”
— Temple Grandin , author of Animals in Translation

“I so enjoyed SHAGGY MUSES. It manages very successfully to bring into focus exactly why these dogs were important to these writers—an intriguing mixture of providing some with confidence, some with love, some with protection and all of them with a curious sense of identification with another spirit which, sometimes, fuelled their writing. No mean feat.”
— Margaret Forster, author of Elizabeth Barrett The Life and Loves of a Poet

"Adams, a clinical psychologist, explores the many roles - companions, objects of affection, witnesses, protectors, guides - these dogs played in their owners' lives and their appearances in their work. How charming to visualize delicate Emily Dickinson with amiable Carlo, her Newfoundland, living their lives in Amherst, or Edith Wharton, traveling through Europe with her Pekes." - The Times-Picayune
"Adams, an English professor-turned-clinical-psychologist, shows verve and just the right amount of playfulness. Deftly, she places these furry inspirations into the environments that nurtured and restricted their 19th and 20th century mistresses. The result are five entertaining and insightful minibiographies, exquisite as the 19th century miniature of Barrett Browning and her lapdog Flush included in the text." - The Cleveland Plain Dealer
"These stories - based on diaries, letters and contemporary accounts with several photographs, many told here for the first time - reveal intimate details and new perspectives on these giants of English and American literature, made even more memorable by Adams' lively writing." - The Providence Journal

"Shaggy Muses' is readable and interesting. . .full of facts and insights. Adams goes beyond the superficial and provides real information." - The Oregonian

"Adams writes these concise biographies with intelligence, verve and tenderness, and her background in literature and psychology makes her uniquely qualified. She does not avert her gaze from each of her subject's troubles but rather shows how each became a greater writer partially through unconditional canine friendship and devotion." - Times-Dispatch

“You’ll call this sentimental–perhaps–but then a dog somehow represents the private side of life, the play side,” Virginia Woolf confessed to a friend. And it is this private, playful side, the richness and power of the bond between five great women writers and their dogs, that Maureen Adams celebrates in this deeply engaging book.

In Shaggy Muses, we visit Elizabeth Barrett Browning and Flush, the golden Cocker Spaniel who danced the poet away from death, back to life and human love. We roam the wild Yorkshire moors with Emily Brontë, whose fierce Mastiff mix, Keeper, provided a safe and loving outlet for the writer’s equally fierce spirit. We enter the creative sanctum of Emily Dickinson, which she shared only with Carlo, the gentle, giant Newfoundland who soothed her emotional terrors. We mingle with Edith Wharton, whose ever-faithful Pekes warmed her lonely heart during her restless travels among Europe and America’s social and intellectual elite. We are privileged guests in the fragile universe of Virginia Woolf, who depended for emotional support and sanity not only on her human loved ones but also on her dogs, especially Pinka–a gift from her lover, Vita Sackville-West–a black Cocker Spaniel who became a strong, bright thread in the fabric of Virginia and Leonard Woolf’s life together.

Based on diaries, letters, and other contemporary accounts–and featuring many illustrations of the writers and their dogs–these five miniature biographies allow us unparalleled intimacy with women of genius in their hours of dome...

Genres: Nonfiction, Biography, Animals, History, Dogs, Poetry, Audiobook

320 pages, Hardcover

First published July 31, 2007

Reviews

[Chrissie · Rating 3 out of 5]

The author Maureen Adams, English professor turned psychologist, writes about five authors and their dogs:

Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861)
Flush--Golden Cocker Spaniel

Emily Brontë (1818-1848)
Keeper--Mastiff mix

Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)
Carlo-- Giant Newfoundland

Edith Wharton (1862-1937)
Lapdogs—Foxy (Spitz), Me-Too (Papillon), Linky (Pekingese) and more

Virginia Woolf (1882-1941)
Shag (Irish Terrier), Girth (Sheepdog), Grizzle (Fox Terrier mix), Pinka (Black Cocker Spaniel)

Each of the five above are given their own chapter, at the end of which is a summary, listing in chronological order the important events of each woman’s life. The book does not limit itself to information about the dogs; a mini-biography of each author is given. Each author is followed from birth to death—their family situations, their emotional and physical health, their travels, marriages and friends, how thy came to be writers and the publication of their books are reviewed. All that the author could find in relation to dogs is added.

Are you interested in a book consisting of five mini-biographies?

A large amount of information is crammed in. The information is interesting, but the bond between dog and woman does not come to the surface. The book is good, but it does not give me what I was looking for. I wanted to feel the emotional bond between the authors and the dogs they loved.

Problem two—the author, being a psychologist, dissects the dog / human bond in a clinical manner. She analyzes the love between person and pet using clinical psychological terminology; she labels. Love is elemental. Through actions, words and behavior, you know when it is there and when it is not. Fancy terminology is not necessary.

The audiobook is very well read by Polly Stone. It is easy to follow. Four stars for the narration.

The chapter on Browning was best, followed by Woolf's.

[Deborah Markus · Rating 3 out of 5]

The short review: A pleasant overview of several important female writers and their canine companions. If you're not a dog person, you still won't be one after reading this book, but you may understand them a little better, even if you still think they're insane (because they are).

The details: Bear in mind that this was written by a woman whose idea of trauma is being wealthy, happily married, and the mother of two normal, well-adjusted children, and then moving from Kansas City, Missouri to Sonoma, California.

I am not wealthy and am stuck in a city I can't stand and can't afford to leave, so I'm in no position to sympathize with this kind of "problem." Specifically, my response to the autobiographical introduction to this book was to feel pretty sure that I'd read incorrectly and that Maureen Adams had actually been traumatized by having to move from the beautiful wine country of California to, no offense, freakin' Missouri. Which I'm sure is absolutely lovely, but I'm also pretty sure there's a reason you can still buy a huge house there for well under six digits, whereas just visiting Sonoma can set you back seven.

Anyway. Once the reader gets past the terrifying tale of being forced to move to a place so beautiful people are willing to pay big bucks to take even a brief vacation there, the book is an enjoyable enough read. I admire all the writers Maureen Adams discusses – in fact, they're all authors I singled out for study at some point in my reading career. It was great fun revisiting Emily Brontë's relationship with her huge dog Keeper, and learning additional details of the London dognappers who did such a brisk trade in ransoming the pets of the wealthy during Elizabeth Barrett Browning's life there with her beloved Cocker Spaniel, Flush.

I have to ding this book a couple of stars, though, because Adams gets a lot wrong when it comes to Emily Dickinson. When I saw Dickinson included on the list of women who, according to Adams, were "inspired" by their pet dogs, I thought, "Wow. That's strange. All the biographies I've read so far have hardly said a thing about Dickinson's dog."

It turns out there's a reason for that. Dickinson's relationship with her dog just wasn't all that intense, especially compared with the bonds between the other writers and their canine companions. She loved Carlo, and she mentioned him in her letters, and dogs certainly pop up in a few of her poems; but she loved almost all animals (saving cats), and she wrote far more poems about birds than dogs. Heck, she talks about mice in several of her poems, and you don't see anyone writing a book called Mouse as Muse: Vermin in the Poetry of Emily Dickinson. Which is a shame. I would read that so hard.

Anyway. Adams flubs a lot of facts in the section of this book devoted to Dickinson, which really makes me wonder what I didn't catch in the other chapters. Some of these mistakes are fairly inconsequential. It doesn't matter much that the book Emily and her brother Austin hid from their father in the piano (not the bench, Ms. Adams) wasn't Ik Marvel's Reveries of a Bachelor but Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's novel Kavanagh. Then again, maybe it matters a little. Kavanagh is the story of a friendship between two women so intense that some reviewers have insisted their love was an erotic one. (I read it. I yawned. But I digress.) Many writers have speculated about whether or not Dickinson was erotically attracted to women, based on letters she wrote that sound an awful lot like the conversations between the young women in Kavanagh.

There are larger mistakes than this, however. Adams describes Dickinson moving with her family to a house they called the Homestead. She claims this was a traumatic move "from her first home." Actually, the Homestead was Dickinson's first home. She was born there. She lived there with her family for about a decade. Then she and her family moved down the street; and then, about a decade later, her father was able to purchase the house that not only "had once belonged to Emily's grandfather," but that had been built by him. Yes, the move back to this home was undoubtedly an unsettling one to Dickinson; but any move is unsettling, and describing this as the first move of her life to a house she'd never known is incorrect and highly misleading.

Equally misleading is Adams' assertion that Dickinson used the death of her dog Carlo as an excuse not to take a trip to see a friend:

In response to some question from [Thomas Wentworth] Higginson, perhaps his oft-repeated urging "You must come down to Boston sometimes? All ladies do," Emily reminded Higginson that she was still mourning her dog: "Thank you, I wish for Carlo."

First of all, the standard collection of Dickinson's letters leaves no doubt that Higginson was indeed inviting her to come to see him in Boston, so it's odd that Adams would present this as a "perhaps."

Second, Dickinson made no such reply. She did say "Thank you, I wish for Carlo" in the letter in question; but only after her real refusal to visit Boston, which was phrased thus:

I must omit Boston. Father prefers so. He likes me to travel with him but objects that I visit.

The fact that Adams twists the facts to fit her own ideas makes this book a lightweight and not entirely reliable overview, rather than the insightful study it might have been. The end of the chapter about Dickinson is awkwardly abrupt because it has to be to suit Adams' purposes. Carlo died twenty years before Dickinson did, and Adams needs Carlo to be more significant than he really was, so she closes by suggesting, "The last twenty years of Emily's life were quiet."

Excuse me, but they weren't. Not any more quiet than the rest of her life had been, anyway. Those last two decades included the one confirmed romance of Dickinson's life -- a relationship so tender and passionate that her sister-in-law didn't want to cross the street to pay a visit in case she caught Emily on the sofa in the arms of her suitor AGAIN. (The man in question's niece later accused Dickinson of being "a hussy" and chasing "all the men." I love that so much.)

Those years also included her brother engaging in an extramarital affair that would directly impact how and when Dickinson's poetry was posthumously published. (More about that in another review.) That affair was conducted in Emily Dickinson's very own flippin' house, during the day. Hey, her brother couldn't go to his own house – his wife was there! And he couldn't have liaisons with his lover at night -- how would it look? So he met his mistress several times a month at the Homestead, and, um, visited with her while Dickinson sat upstairs trying to write poetry, or possibly plugging her ears and saying "LALALALALA." Maybe both at the same time, which would explain why she wrote so comparatively few poems in those last few years.

I'm not saying any of this belongs in an essay about Dickinson and her dog. I'm saying, stop implying, for authorial convenience, that Dickinson's life was boring and uneventful after her dog died.

I did enjoy the chapters about the other writers, especially Emily Brontë and Edith Wharton. But the afterword, "The Dogs," is intensely annoying, in part because once again Adams makes up facts. Like this one:

Unlike other domesticated animals – such as cows, sheep, or horses – dogs made the first move toward living with people. This occurred when a wolf ancestor, a bit less wary than other wolves, discovered it was easier to survive on food discarded by humans than to hunt.

I don't remember there being a consensus on that. And Adams doesn't cite a source. So I call shenanigans. That might be what happened, but it might not. Putting a hypothesis forward as a fact is not cool.

I do think this is a valuable book because the short biographies of each writer include a lot of engaging quotes that are sure to pique the reader's interest in learning more about that author's life and work. Full points to Maureen Adams for that. But – maybe try a little harder to get the facts right next time, please?

[Carla · Rating 4 out of 5]

Conhecer um pouco melhor estas cinco escritoras através dos seus cães foi um prazer e um privilégio.

[Carol · Rating 5 out of 5]

Loved this little book. It has five excellent "condensed biographies," of all women authors who have a "human-dog bond." They relied on their devoted dogs to help them through difficult times and more.

First was Elizabeth Barrett Browning and her dog, Flush (which was the subject for Woolf's book). I haven't read her biography and I was shocked at how limited her life was before she got Flush. That dog made it possible for her to leave her home, marry and have a full life.

Emily Bronte and her dog, Keeper, was an interesting relationship. Emily saw Keeper as a reflection of her own nature. Both refused to be dominated or to accommodate others expectations. In the end, Emily taught Keeper who was dominate and he was faithful even after her death.

Emily Dickinson suffered greatly from anxiety. Her father decided that she needed a big dog to make her feel safe. And he purchased a Newfoundland dog and she named him Carlo. In her 20s Emily had terrible pain in her eyes --rheumatic iritis -- which made her intolerant to light, but she had Carlo by her side. She even put Carlo in her "Master Letters."

Edith Wharton had a lonely life and a distant, loveless mother. As a young girl, she survived typhoid fever which shows how strong she was. Later she married a man who did not love her. But late in life finally had a loving relationship. But after that relationship ended, Edith found that she was very lonely. She loved dogs and they became her constant companions, especially Foxy, Linky and all the dogs inbetween.

Last, Virginia Woolf was also one who needed many dogs over the years to help her with her mental illness. The author retraced Woolf's walks over the Sussex downs. Both she and her husband Leonard knew the how important it was for her to have a dog. Virginia relied on Gurth, Grizzle and Pink.

[L.K. Latham]

A delightful book: What could be better than reading about the lives of the dogs of my favorite authors? I admit I read this book while pining for my own fuzzy companions (gone now for almost three years), but instead of this making me pine more, I lost myself in the lives of these women. I laughed and cried with them. You may need to enjoy dogs to enjoy this book. As I do, it was an easy one for me to read. If you're looking for scholarly insight into the lives of these authors, not the best source, but Maureen Adams provides just enough facts to make these essays believable.

[Natalie · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was one of the most satisfying, fascinating pieces of non-fiction I've read in a while! Well-written and well-researched.

[Martin Moriarty · Rating 5 out of 5]

“In an essay for M. Heger, Emily [Bronte] said that the link between owners and pets was based on hypocrisy. She believed that owners used their pets to fulfil their own needs and denounced a particular type of owner, ‘the delicate lady who has murdered half a dozen lap dogs by sheer affection’. In Wuthering Heights, Emily continues to argue against the prevalent idea in Victorian England that animals are created to be subservient to humans. Instead, she sees animals as an equal part of nature, neither less nor more worthy. In Emily’s view, pet keeping is not based on the natural order; rather, it occurs only because humans have more power than animals and can dominate them.”

[Stephen Raguskus · Rating 1 out of 5]

I guess I forgot that you can’t judge a book by its cover. I saw the title “Shaggy Muses: The Dogs Who Inspired Virginia Woolf, Emily Dickinson, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Edith Wharton, and Emily Bronte” and the adorable picture of a girl and her dog, and I thought “this will be a fun read!”

It wasn’t.

I expected a heart-warming book about these creative talents and their beloved sidekicks, but there was no warmth to be found. I kept thinking it felt like a scholarly approach to the subject and then, in the acknowledgments at the end I found I was correct. “‘Shaggy Muses’ began as papers presented at conferences… and as articles in scholarly journals.”

To me, there is little more precious than the love dogs share with their humans. This could have been an emotional story about these special bonds. Instead, it was dry and detached.

I got a bad feeling that the author just didn’t know what it meant to love and be enriched by a dog in the Preface when she wrote about her family’s move from Kansas City to California. She described how their dog Cody “seemed to express the whole family’s anxiety about moving from the Midwest.” She followed that with “When we picked him up in the baggage claim area at the San Francisco airport…” I literally read the line a couple more times, put the book down and said “What?!?” This was on page viii, the second page of text.

I shouldn’t have picked the book back up again.

[Cecily Black · Rating 3 out of 5]

Not a big I would have normally picked up but a decently interesting read. I am not too familiar with a lot of these poet/Author's work but I have at least heard of them and now know a lot more about them, at least some of their work, and their personal lives. It really gave some of their work more meaning and I enjoyed that. I like dogs but I am more of a cat person, so I wasn't as awed as some people may have been.
Interesting read!

[El · Rating 4 out of 5]

The author here takes five popular women writers of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries and focuses primarily on their relationships with their dogs. Each woman was emotionally attached to their pet dogs and used them to overcome sickness (physical and psychological) and as muses to their creative works.

I was excited by the concept of the book (especially about the chapter regarding Edith Wharton and her little "gentlemen" - and the photograph of her with her two chihuahuas sitting on her shoulders is included!) and was mostly not disappointed. The book was more just additional mini-biographies about the women with occasional paragraphs regarding their animals. I expected more - or perhaps I expected less of their personal lives (I feel I know enough already about Edith's extracurricular relationships and the fact that Emily Dickinson preferred to wear white). All in all, however, the information was relayed well and was interesting throughout. I did discover that Elizabeth Barrett Browning lived in Florence after disobeying her father and marrying Robert Browning, and had her precious cocker spaniel, Flush, buried there. The chapter about Emily Dickinson was surprisingly short to me; I would have liked to have learned more about her Newfoundland, Carlo.

For those of us obsessed with our dogs, and for those of us who talk about our dogs as if they are real people, this is worth a read and quite a comfort to know that this is a natural and normal behavior.

[Sumangali Morhall · Rating 5 out of 5]

They say that behind every great man there has to be a great woman, but behind a great woman? They do not mention. Perhaps we should look down toward the hearth. Shaggy Muses, by Maureen Adams, is a heartful tribute to the dogs who unknowingly, and unconditionally inspired five iconic female writers: Emily Brontë, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Edith Wharton, Emily Dickinson and Virginia Woolf.

I suppose there are dog-lovers in all walks of life. So, what makes this connection interesting, or is it just a coincidence? Having read to the end, I see that the dogs—differing vastly in breed, breeding, size and temperament—played differing roles in the lives of each woman, but there are themes in these interspecies bonds too strikingly similar to be coincidental. That makes for a fascinating read, but the dogs themselves make it heart-wrenchingly un-put-downable (for this dog-lover at least).

Sadly all women had one clear thing in common: traumatic lives. That is a well-trod path for writers in general; not so much in terms of life’s challenging events per se, but the heightened sensitivity and emotionality of creative people leaves them ill-equipped for bereavements, illnesses, emotional or physical abuse, the sheer overwhelming nature of creative output itself, and in many cases everyday life in general. In each of these five cases the dog (or dogs) had a soothing and joyful influence, keeping the writer grounded, as well as offering empathy, employing that other-worldly sixth-sensitivity which is the hallmark of their species.

[Angela · Rating 2 out of 5]

Too full of remote speculative psychoanalysis, especially built upon premises that were unsafe in the first place. One key example is the alleged beating given to her dog Keeper by Emily Bronte: a luridly told story from the Gaskell biography of Charlotte Bronte, which is known to be somewhat exaggerated and unreliable for many reasons. It leads the author (a psychologist) to then imply Bronte APPROVED of violence and looked down on certain animals, and that this informs her writing in Wuthering Heights. Thankfully other, more carefully reading scholars, have been able to show how Bronte used the animal and other violence in Wuthering Heights to CRITICISE violence, for example, Judith E Pike's 2009 paper 'My name was Isabella Hinton...'. In addition, predictably and depressingly, the author, as has been woeful common practice for many years now in biography/history writing, also gives psychogenic explanations to virtually all the physical illnesses suffered by these women authors. She ends up psychobabbling interminably, possibly to flesh out the relative paucity of known facts about the authors under study and their relationships with their dogs. A few more people (not just women perhaps) and less psychobabble might have meant a more measured, sober understanding of the relationships these authors had with their dogs.

[Stacey · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.75

Being a dog lover, and Virginia Woolf fan, I found Shaggy Muses an interesting bio about Victorian authoresses & poets (except for Virginia Woolf later) and their emotional and literary connections to their dogs. I became more familiar with Emily Dickinson, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Edith Wharton and Emily Bronte. Each of the women had aloof and dependent relationships with different dogs throughout their lives. And, they all relied on their dogs for emotional support, sanity, and learned lessons from them. Probably the most fascinating similarity in all the women, was their use of their dogs as a means to relate their feelings in letters, poetry and prose.

I want to focus on Virginia Woolf particularly. I know the most about her, and find her the most fascinating. She had many dogs throughout her life, some were peripheral, some abandoned or given away. But, there were a few dogs that affected her human connections, heart, mental health, view of life, and creativity in her writing. "Not only did the dogs provide an escape from sorrow, they also acted as a link to Vanessa. Virginia's diary shows that almost every day when Vanessa returned from her classes, the two girls took the reliable Shag, and the mischievous Jerry out for a walk. These excursions gave the sisters time alone and allowed them to act like children together."

As a young woman, Gurth (named from a character in Ivanhoe) was at her side for everything, library visits, cab rides, and a concert, where he accompanied one performer, and had to be rushed out of the theatre. She and Gurth "roamed" or "street-haunting", the streets of London, and like Vanessa had been, he was buffer between her and the world. These wanderings would later appear in her book Flush, questioning what a dog experienced with the multitude of smells he encountered. Gurth later would mostly be lost to Virginia when Vanessa got married and took Gurth with her on her honeymoon and kept him when she returned.

With Gurth gone, a mixed terror named Grizzle, she called Mongrel, became a part of Virginia and Leonards private lives. She watched Grizzle with curiosity and relied on him for protection, to quell her fears & loneliness, and as a companion. "Virginia realized that her happiness and Leonard's came from the appreciation for everyday life, which included Grizzle...'" Grizzle was the most important dog in Virginias life and would appear in Mrs. Dalloway.

The last dog in Virginia's life was from her lover, Vita Sackville-West, a pure breed cocker spaniel that Virginia and Leonard called Pinka. Pinka became one the most most important dogs in her life. In letters she would speak of her love for Vita, and her unhappiness through Pinka, "I had to explain (to Pinka) that Mrs. Woolf lived in London, a separate life, a fact which was as unpleasant to me as it could be to any spaniel puppy, so she has adopted me as a substitute." In letters to Leonard, she wrote about her loneliness through Pinka. She took Pinka on long walks to relax after writing, and in her dark moods found walking Pinka as the only "cheerful event". Pinka's death was devastating for Virginia's, "... private side of life-the play side." Virginia had depended on Pinka creatively, she had written entire sections by speaking them out loud while walking Pinka. After Pinka's death she couldn't settle into writing again. Not long after Pinka's death Virginia would take her own life by filling her pockets with rocks and wading out into the river.

[Nathan Albright · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is both interesting and troubling. On the one hand, there is a great deal of interest in pet parenting in contemporary times and the author certainly has a likely market to appeal to in women who want to read about other women who were very fond of dogs who in part inspired and shaped their lives and writing. On the other hand, there are at least some obvious limitations with a work like this that the perceptive reader will be able to pick up on. For one, the author is only interested in writing about women who were inspired by the dogs in their lives. There is, for example, no story of Jack London's love of dogs or that of a male author. This is strictly about women writers and the dogs in their lives. This leads to an additional problem, in that the personal lives of these female authors were not very good or worth emulating, and their fondness of dogs in part relates to their inability to deal well with people, and in the main these lives are pretty miserable, filled with all kinds of frustrated longings and loneliness and only one of the female authors even had any children, showing a major failure on their parts.

This book is a bit more than 250 pages long and it consists of lengthy chapters in which the author talks about the role of pets in the lives and writings of various women, whose lives she talks about in sometimes gossipy detail, dishing on their frustrated sexual longings, their quirks, their bad mental health, and their frequent early and miserable deaths. The book begins with a preface and an author's note. After that the author talks about the love of Elizabeth Barrett Browning for her dog Flush. This leads to a discussion of Emily Bronte's troubled relationship with her dog Keeper, with whom she had quite an abusive relationship. After that comes a look at Emily Dickenson's relationship with her dog Carlo, a rare case of intimacy in a generally secluded life. After that there is a look at Edith Wharton's relationship with a wide variety of dogs. This is followed by a discussion of the relationship between Virginia Woolf and a variety of dogs who may have but were ultimately unable to help the famously troubled writer with her terrible mood swings. The book concludes with a discussion of the dogs, acknowledgements, notes, illustration and text credits, and an index.

In the main, what do these shaggy muses say about the author and about the authors the author is writing about? The author, of course, finds it necessary to draw some feminist themes about the way that women were viewed as being similar to dogs in being ornamental but not particularly useful or well-respected. At times, it is likely that various authors included here were able to use discussion about their dogs as codes or as windows into their thoughts about intimacy and relationships and love and the like, as it provided a safe subject. By and large, though, the lives of these women authors was pretty wretched, and a significant part of that wretchedness appears to spring from dysfunctional family backgrounds. All too often, it appears that the cultivation of the artistic tendencies that lead someone to be a successful and/or prolific writer also tend to cultivate the quirks and eccentricities that make it hard to relate to others in love and marriage and other relationships or even to cope successfully with the demands of society. It is a shame that the author thinks of this as only a problem for women, though.

[Ellen Cutler · Rating 4 out of 5]

How wonderful that Maureen Adams chose to look at the lives and art of five great women writers through their relationships with their dogs! She is a psychologist as well as a professor of literature, thanks in part to the loving ministrations of her golden retriever, Cody, when she was in the depth of depression. When Cody finally departed that family after a long, loved life, she was bereft. More than that, as Adams writes, "Grief for Cody pushed me to examine this question: What explains our intense emotional attachment to our dogs?"

When she discovered a note by poet Emily Dickinson about the death of her dog, Carlo, she pursued that relationship as a research project. Adams then discovered the intense connections of the poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning and the novelists Emily Bronte and Virginia Woolf to dogs in their lives. A book was born. While each section is devoted to an exploration of the women and their canine companions, Adams also addresses them as writers, examining the importance of those relationships beyond subject matter to the writing process itself.

Each section includes a timeline for the author, her dogs and the births and deaths of the other four. It is a marvelous way to revisit the literature and think about it more deeply--especially for those of us either unfamiliar with the work or foggy on the biographies.

There are a scattering of sketches and photographs-- wasn't it wonderful that there was a time when everyone seemed to keep a journal and or a sketchbook and recorded everything whether or not they were an "artist" or a "writer"? The intimacy of this approach did more to secure them in my mind historically and socially than I think any class might have done.

The stories are not all warm and fuzzy, despite the charm of the featured dogs. There are details that may shock our 21st century sensibilities. But be that as it may. This is a wonderful book.

[Joan Colby · Rating 5 out of 5]

Perceptive accounts of the relationship between dogs and the women authors Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Emily Bronte, Emily Dickinson, Edith Wharton and Virginia Woolf. Adams capsulizes the writing careers of these women and notes their devotion to various dogs in their lives as well as the many references in their writings. I liked the chapters on Bronte and Dickinson the most. Dickinson in particular relied on her Newfoundland Carlo who accompanied her for 16 years. She was devastated by his death and never owned another dog. Anyone interested in literature and dogs would appreciate this book.

[Journey · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a great book to highlight the human/animal (dog) bond and the vital importance of this connection in the lives these five woman writers. The dogs are described as "loyal companions, staunch protectors, patient comforters, and constant support for the creative life." Good and irreplaceable friends.

I read this book some years ago. It recently came to to mind and I wanted to say a word or two about it. Very pleasant reading, although there are parts that may cause you to cry (the Preface, for instance, may be close to home for anyone who has loved a dog, but who has had to say goodbye).

[Sassafras Patterdale · Rating 5 out of 5]

ok i loved this book - loved loved loved it. I read the whole book in a weekend. it's a great read, so glad that I have this book on my bookshelf, one of the best books i've read recently. it's soooooo good. if you love dogs, if you love literary dogs? 100% suggest reading this book - also the old pictures made me very very happy

[Amanda · Rating 5 out of 5]

A beautifully sad book. Could be a bit repetitive and had some disturbing details, but I’ve given it a five star rating due to how much I am moved by this book. It made me miss my childhood dog, Lady.

[Kathy · Rating 3 out of 5]

Quotable:

“Father… buys me many Books – but begs me not to read them – because he fears they joggle the Mind.” -Emily Dickinson

In times of change and upheaval, we look to our dogs to keep us on track and to remind us of the inner core of self that always remains the same.

[Esther Grace]

What a fun read (listen). The author plays it a little fast and loose with some facts, and certainly takes some liberties with the psychological analysis, but the overall effect was successful. Women writers, dogs, triangulation, what’s not to love!?

[Tara · Rating 1 out of 5]

dnf. Just not into it.

[Connie Kronlokken]

This book describes the “limbic resonance” between several writers and their dogs. A refreshing look at the intimate lives of these writers.

[Audrey · Rating 4 out of 5]

An interesting perspective and engrossing introduction to five women writers.

[Denise · Rating 3 out of 5]

Interesting take on women that wrote and the dogs that were in their lives. So many things we do not know behind closed doors.
Dogs hold a special place for so many.

[Jay Resnick · Rating 5 out of 5]

Brilliant book about the dogs who inspired, comforted and followed Virginia Woolf, Emily Dickinsonn, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Edith Wharton, and Emily Bronte.

[Jordan · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.75 ⭐️

[Emily Marcum · Rating 3 out of 5]

I loved this unique take on a biography. Each woman and her dog(s) were given a section, with a biography woven into a literary criticism of her work.

Some of the author's conclusions came as the result of more than a little speculation. However, overall, I enjoyed the in-depth analysis of each woman's work.

[Lacey Louwagie · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was comprised of five short biographies of renowned women writers, telling their stories with an emphasis on their relationships with their dogs. This was an interesting angle, which allowed me to see even Emily Dickinson's story in a fresh light (Out of all the profiled authors, she was the one I knew the most about). The writing is also compelling enough that even the stories about the authors who interested me less kept me engaged, although I felt the Edith Wharton section went on a little long -- perhaps because Wharton struck me as somewhat spoiled, and harder to relate to than the other women.

The Emily Bronte section was my favorite. Although I've read Wuthering Heights several times, much of Emily's biography was new to me, and I was intrigued by some of the similarities between her story and temperament and mine, which led me to want to read further biographies about the Bronte sisters, not to mention the rest of Charlotte's novels. Emily Bronte's story was also one of the darkest, revealing how she sometimes took out her anger on the dog who was so devoted to her, and I appreciated the unflattering inclusion and the way it rounded out her character.

I also found it intriguing how most of the women profiled would write about their dogs as a proxy for their own feelings, or for the things they did not feel bold enough to say outright, particularly as relates to Virginia Woolf's love affair with a female friend. And since I was listening to this on audiobook, it was also a truly top-notch choice for when I was walking my own dog, which is when I get a lot of my book "listening" time in.

Since cats seem to be the more stereotypical writer's pet, I'd love to see a similar volume that explores that relationship.

[Monica · Rating 3 out of 5]

It's about what you would guess it's about. Five female writers who lived in different time periods and each had a special dog or dogs who helped them get through life. Shut-ins like Emily Dickinson and Elizabeth Barrett Browning who depended on their dogs, housekeeper Emily Bronte and the more cosmopolitan Edith Wharton and Virginia Woolf who were inspired by their dogs. A section is devoted to each writer and her life and how her dog(s) were mentioned and influenced her writings. The final section is more of a psychology of dog owners. It is interesting to note that each woman had a lack of maternal care after a point, and each had no children (Elizabeth Barrett Browning did in her 40s, by that time her dog Flush was no longer her most important connection to the outside world). So the dogs functioned as protectors and as children to be doted on.
It was just kind of a strange book, describing a writer's work in terms of the influence of their relationship with their dogs. It was interesting, though because I hadn't read any biographies of these writers before (although I have visited Emily Dickinson's house in Amherst). The sections on Emily Bronte and Elizabeth Barrett Browning were the least interesting to me, probably because they spent most of their time at their respective family homes (as did Dickinson, but I was more familiar with her life). It is amazing to think that they still were able to write so much and so well, considering the constraints on women at the time.