Convinced that London’s young-professionals are being controlled by their dogs, a homeless bartender embarks on a drunken campaign to rescue his peers from domesticity.
Sofa-hopping across a Hackney overrun with hungover musicians, craft brewers and their canine masters, he slips further into fantasy the more obsessed he becomes with setting himself, and everyone else, free. But after falling in love with a young actress, the thing he’s fighting against may have become what he wants most of all.
The Shapes of Dogs’ Eyes explores the philosophies of love, homelessness, and a restless sense of uncertainty in a modern London as brittle and unmoored, as familiar and as chimerical, as the characters that move through it.
I've never read anything like this novel. I'm grasping for analogies to describe the reading experience. It was something like listening to free jazz. Like listening to Ornette Coleman. Like this:
I enjoyed it. It also exhausted me. I grasped for context clues to try to figure out what was going on. Failed, mostly. But I kept reading because Harry Gallon has a very interesting mind. For the hours I spent reading this novel I was completely willing to follow his train of thought, wherever it led. Every sentence, paragraph, page would flow in an absolutely unexpected direction. Even if the syntax was correct, the meaning I should attach to the words themselves frequently was less than transparent. The writing is syntactically simple, but intellectually verges on the edge of incomprehensible. I loved it. It infuriated me. It bored me. It won me back again. It's unreadable. I read it with pleasure.
This is a hipster book. It toes the line between playfully mocking the hipster culture, in the way that American Psycho pokes fun at the businessman culture, and actually just being hipster itself. The unnamed narrator is at the heart of this hipster culture, working in a London bar which specialises in craft beer, having been refurbished from its previous guise as a dive bar, much to the annoyance of the now banned previous regulars. The narrator is also homeless, and the book tries to say something about homelessness too, although I feel it is not a very accurate depiction as the narrator essentially travels around his friends' houses, sleeping on a different sofa each night, rather than the very brutal conditions a lot of homeless people find themselves in. The title of the book refers to a theory the narrator has, which is that the Shapes of Dogs' Eyes are the key to how dogs have begun to take over, with the narrator convinced that the dogs own the people, rather than the other way around. This speaks to a slight undercurrent of mental illness in the narrator, which never progresses beyond that as he gets closer to his girlfriend, Molly, eventually essentially moving in with her, the realisation that they love each other allowing the narrator to push his theory back. A strange novel which shows the potential of the author but is not quite there yet - I read his second novel, Every Fox is a Rabid Fox, first, and that one is far superior to this.
1. How could a publisher/agent get past the first 10 pages of this, let alone read it all to decide what is good about it? The writing is simply terrible.
2. It reminds me how subjective reading is/judging a book is.
3. It makes me realise how many bad books have been published. It also reminds me of David Foster Wallace being partially depressed when he had Infinite Jest accepted for publishing. He thought he must be a bad writer now, since all contemporary fiction is terrible
Incredibly hipster, incredibly London, incredibly male and very self indulgent. But there was something I liked about it? Can’t put my finger on it, but would read more by the same author, although not straight away.
I hate giving a bad review but sometimes you just don't connect with a book. Others may have found it some hip existential symbolic presentation of the struggles of today's youth, but it felt rambling and disjointed to me. First problem: the book is not about dogs controlling their owners and the fight to free these people. It is barely about dogs at all. The ramblings have more to do with the making, serving, and consumption of beer. Second problem: the main character isn't homeless and I think it does a disservice to those actually fighting homelessness to say that he is. He has a job but whether it is mental illness or plain laziness, he sleeps on friends' couches. Seems like a great deal since he doesn't have to pay rent! But, he isn't homeless. There is not a single incident in the book where he is struggling to find a roof to sleep under. Am I making too much of this point? Probably. But the plain fact is, he isn't homeless. Third problem: There is no forward progress or resolution in the story line. And maybe that is the worst part for me. I want an actual story with a beginning, middle, and end. I can't in good conscious recommend this book to anyone and that makes me very sad because Mr. Gallon put a lot of work into it, but I just don't get it.
A preview copy of this book was provided by NetGalley and Impress Books in exchange for an honest review.
I'd say I couldn't quite get through this book. The narration is similar to Joyce-like 'stream of consciousness', there is always the repetition of those shapes of dogs' eyes... I suppose the author wanted to convey not the idea, but just the atmosphere of London, people in there, just a general mood. It is kind of a hipster book, I suppose it may become quite fashionable to read. For me though, it was slightly 'too much' and I failed to get emotionally attached to it. It is well written though.
I've got my copy of this book from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review