Beautiful Joe has been compared to the groundbreaking Black Beauty since its publication in 1893. This first person story of an abused dog runs many parallels to Black Beauty and Margaret Marshall Saunders made no secret of having been inspired and greatly influenced by the horse novel. The two even met comparable success. Black Beauty was already famous and Beautiful Joe soon became the best-selling Canadian novel ever. (Though the true story it is loosely based on took place in Canada, the novel is set in Maine.)
Like so many modern day successes in books, these two are divided by a great chasm that is rarely acknowledged: One author was a superb writer: One was not.
Beautiful Joe follows a narrative so heavy-handed and explanatory that preaching is too soft a word. It's like being hit in the face with a sandbag over and over again while someone shouts at you, "Do you get it now?!"
Yet, even with Ms. Saunders' ham-fisted, long-winded, ranting at her reader, by the end of the book, I'm not sure I did get her message. (Clearly, I'm just as slow and ignorant as she imagined her audience to be.)
Beautiful Joe is a mind-numbing sermon on how human beings must stop being so cruel to animals and all God's creatures deserve kindness and compassion. Got it so far. Then, there is also the dated nature of the text to be considered. Yes, the book is very old and this should be taken into account for any modern review. Got that too. What I fail to understand is how Beautiful Joe ever struck such a cord, ever reached such animal-loving masses, ever got anyone to take it seriously, when nearly every animal kindness preaching human character (and all the characters in the book preach just as much as the author) are abusive to animals themselves.
The examples are rampant but here are a few. Main characters, the good guys: shoot their own dogs because they were "bad tempered" and growled at them, poison cats by prying open their mouths and pouring potassium cyanide on their tongues, whip dogs and ponies as part of their "training," hunt, trap, and set packs of dogs on wild animals, and all the time preach kindness to the animal kingdom, wild and domestic.
Miss Laura, the heroine of the story and Beautiful Joe's teenage mistress, beats her six-week-old Fox Terrier puppy with a bootlace when she finds him chewing her father's hat. This is followed by a quick reassurance to the reader in case you thought the angelic Miss Laura was mean to dogs:
"She never struck a little dog with her hand or a stick. She said clubs were for big dogs and switches for little dogs, if one had to use them."
Ohhh. . . . Now I get it. Of course. Nice girl. She would never beat him with a stick. Heavens no. Only big dogs should be beaten with clubs.
But, you protest, dated book? That was the way it was then? Everyone thought you had to hit a dog if you wanted to train it?
I'm a dog trainer myself and have been for many years. I've spent over fifteen years studying new, established, and antiquated methods—from whip and club to bridge signals and the No Change Response System. I've researched historical training and working dogs going back well before 1893. Beating a dog to "train" it was not a universally accepted technique at the time and positive training methods did exist.
These were the best methods to Ms. Saunders, however, and—since all the good guys in Beautiful Joe share her views and preach her sermon—that's how dogs were trained by kindly owners in her book.
Despite the painful writing (worse than the brutal events it portrays), endless sermons, and shocking contradictions, Beautiful Joe did make changes for the better in the way people treated and related to animals and animal welfare around the turn of the century. For that alone it deserves to still be on our shelves. Though perhaps not the same one as Black Beauty, which rises hooves and paws above the rest as the pioneering, and outstanding, first person animal story that started well organized animal welfare campaigns in the first place.