It's 1975. Bud Salem, 18-years-old, is fleeing his mother's TV church and meets a woman pitching oranges in the Mojave. She's Sylvia Cushman, a 45-year-old housewife, who loves driving alone through the desert. They odyssey through western motels and Apache gas stations where Sylvia gives long lectures about Emily Dickinson and drags Bud up into the mesas to search for petroglyphs. After sharing adventures in Detroit, New York, and Amherst, the travelers part... In many ways Let the Dog Drive is an askew detective novel— when a character dies under strange circumstances in Texas, Bud goes to the panhandle to uncover what happened. His strange narration does contain pleasures of the a shootout inside an aquarium; a faked death; another shootout on a chicken farm in Texas...But Let the Dog Drive is also a freewheeling merging of many other genres and concerns-- Hollywood, hardboiled novels of the 1930s, Emily Dickinson's white dress, hallucinatory cacti, The Book of Luke...And dogs.
I read about this novel from Jonathan Lethem's essay collection, "The Collapsing Frontier". I always enjoy reading Professor Lethem's assessment of literature and film. The plot of Mr. Bowman's 18 novel intrigued me: a dog that drives a car, and the story of the doomed affair between 18 year old Bud and 45 year old Sylvia.
Driving around aimlessly across vast American landscapes: From the Texas prairies, Sunny California, wild New Orleans, the bright, bleak lights of New York- their affair weaves back and forth misadventures, jealous lovers, and violence. Often brimming with sadness and a violence that often erupts at unexpected moments, it's a mercurial novel that is reminiscent of both Kerouac, Ginsberg, and John Rechy.
It reminded me most of Rechy's classic "City of Night"- protagonists without an aim often searching for themselves. The darkness that Mr. Bowman's novel also alludes to classic film noirs: The Big Heat, In a Lonely Place, the work of Emily Dickinson (her poetry is often brutal in its violent search for meaning) Hammett and Chandler. The narrative meanders back and forth where it is somewhat disjointed. At the end, I did not care about this quibble- still an excellent novel
Thank goodness for goodreads ... Now I know others have read this book and been left feeling something like I was ... confused, angry, sad. While I desperately wanted to talk to someone about it, I didn't want to share the disturbing imagery or the rather fantastic writing style in which he described those images. I can't quite say what this book was about about. I can say that my life would not be less if I had not read it. It was disjointed and seemingly random in a ridiculously absurd way. Ultimately, the story makes me feel like ... the dog who wasn't there ... wasn't there at all.
wanted badly to love this but it felt like i was the only one putting work into the relationship. every time the bizarre flourishes of it that i loved (the narrator's father killed by hippo in a used car sales stunt; a padded, noiseproof kitchen; sylvia's glovebox full of molten almond joy) threatened to coalesce into, yknow, a narrative, the whole thing would just sublimate into a bunch of floating signifiers -- dogs & oranges & emily dickinson thrown together w/o rhyme or reason -- for pages upon pages. the elements are here of the ultimate pomo noir... it just never actually happens
Wish I could give this 3.25 or 3.5 stars but alas that is not an option
This book has its weak points definitely, it feels disjointed at points and sometimes lacks sense, but for some reason I still felt very connected to the characters. The story does seem to devolve as the book goes on and I don’t know if it’s just me but I found it hard to follow the logic of the plot (maybe there wasn’t any). And it doesn’t help that there’s so many references to pop culture phenomena and literature that you would have to be the same age as the author at the same time and/or be quite well read to understand everything. But reading around that, the writing is good and there’s a lot to draw you in. My most major complaint about the plot itself is that the main woman is very clearly a MPDG (manic pixie dream girl type) for the narrator which can be cringeworthy but also might be able to be written off as part of his own characterization. Overall I just love books about weird and quirky people and this definitely falls into that niche. I wish the conclusion offered more closure than it did but nevertheless I will be thinking about this book for quite a while. Not a must read but I’m glad I did
This book has perhaps the strangest last couple of chapters of any book I've ever read. It starts out so normal--boy meets Emily Dickinson-obsessed woman twice his age throwing oranges while hitchiking through the California desert--but after getting a bit bogged down in the middle, it just gets really weird. So weird that the narrator warns readers at the start of the penultimante chapter that they are about to descend into "the black stomach" of the book...
David Bowman is one seriously kick-ass writer, though. I first found out about him when I read "This Must Be The Place", his biography of Talking Heads, probably one of the best "rock biographies" ever written. The man has an amazing talent for turning incandescent, sardonic phrases page after page without ever coming off like a serious wanker.
I'm definitely going to read his other book, "Bunny Modern", but I think I need to take a short break first and clear my head.
I picked up this book for two reasons: the title, and because it made the New York Times Notable Book list. Besides, I always like a good love story, even May December (or maybe May-September) ones. It had moments of interest, and some of those chuckle out loud ones But my overall impression was that it was a little forces -- the author was trying too hard to be clever or offbeat. It just didn't work for me. That's not to say the writing wasn't good, just seemed a tad forced.
I think this is a "first book" of this author. I may keep an eye out for his later writings to see how he has developed his craft and talents.
Sigh. I think the only reason I finished this book is because although I didn't really like it, I was never bored! There were a few parts (maybe the equivalent of 5-10 pages) where I thought the author used some cool symbolism or made really intelligent points or had a really interesting and intellectual twist, but most of the time I kept asking myself why I was still reading it. I think the answer was that I was curious to know the point. To each his own I guess...
For about 120 pages or so, I thought this was going to become an all-time favorite. Funny, hallucinatory, fast-paced, and vivid -- and Sylvia is one of the most memorable characters I've read recently. Then it goes off the rails, collapses under the weight of its own cleverness and tries to do way too much.
I picked this up randomly for free and wow! Amazing literature and story. One of my favorite books, it's stuck with me. So many literary references and puzzles mixed with a quirky and deeply moving story of two peoples lives.
There are moments in this novel that are redeeming. The plot is fine, and the plot has a dark sense of humor, if you can call it that. But there are too many references that fall flat. There are too many times I read a sentence and cringed thinking, that was just unnecessary. To be clear: it’s not the plot but the writing that has not aged well. There are too many forced motifs, too many times when I read a sentence and thought, why add that there?
The illegitimate love child of Thomas Pynchon, Tom Robbins, and Richard Brautigan…not sure where I got the recommendation, but I’ve owned the book for a while and figured it was time to actually read it. Has its moments, but seems a bit scattered, and I feel there is a glaring hole/misstep in the later part of the book that left me feeling a bit gypped, but overall, not a terrible read. I think, if able, I would have given it maybe a 2.6 or 2.7…
Very odd, but compelling for the first half of the book relating the non-traditional relationship of a middle aged mother and a teenage hitch hiker. But as soon as one of the characters dies midway, the novel devolves into noire fiction replete with non-sequiters, unexplained coincidences and attempts to squeeze meaning via metaphor out of a nonsensical plot.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I'm not sure what I just read... this was the most bizarre book. It had a semi-interesting plot with some wacky characters, but the time jumps and compromising situations dogs found themselves in were just wild. I had to re-read so many parts of this because I wasn't sure if I had read it correctly. The ending was whole 'nother trip that I wasn't ready for, but it was exciting; I'll give it that.
Trying to decide between 3 and 5. Unique approach to a novel. Will probably read again to decide on my final rating, but it clearly is out of the ordinary.
I bought this book in 2002 because it won a prize for best first novel in 1992. It then sat on my bookshelf for another 11 years so in a way it probably isn't surprising that this seemed like an item from a literary fiction time capsule. It had many cultural references that made me think "oh, I haven't thought of that in years" and "few people born after 1960 would recognize that reference". It was a weird return to the 1990s perspective of being 18 in 1976 told in a mash-up of the great story-telling forces of the time: detective fiction, Hollywood, evangelical preachers and drug-fueled writers. For me, this book is locked into a specific time. Perhaps it's greater purpose was served in its creation. The key character chides the narrator several times to "write what you know". The author suffered a terrible brain injury after completely the manuscript, completely losing his memory, including the memory of this work. It was by re-reading and by editing 'Let the Dog Drive' that he gradually regained his memory and his self.
A very weird (often just for the sake of being so), post-modern, semi-detective story, novel within a novel. Mostly of value for its often humorous images and metaphors rather than for its plot, which meanders far too much to be worth following.
This book was many things: dark, disjointed, graphic, and disturbing. But it was also very tender at times and had an extremely colorful cast of characters. I burned through this book in less than 24 hours. It left me feeling uneasy and sad, but I loved the style and pace of the book.
Well. I really don't know what to say about this book. It's surreal, freaky, and I can't even decide if I even liked it. I will leave it unrated. Well-written but has unresolved plot elements, and definitely too weird for my tastes.
This book is a romp. Not deep literature, but a helluva read. Sylvia reminds me of Maude from Harold and Maude, so if that strikes the right note, check it out.