Lagomorph

by Alexander MacLeod

A short story told from the perspective of a father who brought home a rabbit for a family pet, “Lagomorph” explores the significance this critter takes on for the narrator as the family’s dynamic shifts and fractures. Originally published in the literary magazine Granta, “Lagomorph” was one of the winners of the 100th O. Henry Prize in 2019.

Typeset in Linotype Janson. Printed letterpress on Zerkell mouldmade paper, folded, handsewn and trimmed to 5 × 8 .5 inches making 48 pages. Includes an original wood engraving by Wesley Bates. Casebound (cloth over boards) and enfolded in a letterpress-printed jacket. Limited to 80 copies.

Genres: Short Stories

48 pages, Hardcover

Published January 1, 2020

About the author

Alexander MacLeod is a Canadian writer, whose debut short story collection Light Lifting was a shortlisted nominee for the 2010 Scotiabank Giller Prize.

The son of noted Canadian novelist and short story writer Alistair MacLeod, he was born in Inverness, Nova Scotia and raised in Windsor, Ontario, where his father taught at the University of Windsor. He currently lives in Dartmouth, Nova Scotia, where he teaches at Saint Mary's University.

Reviews

[Chantel · Rating 5 out of 5]

It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the subject matters of the book as well as those detailed in my review overwhelming. I would suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters which contain reflections on grief, animal endangerment, death, graphic descriptions of the physical ailments of a family pet, & others.

I often wonder about our ability to connect with one another. I have written reflections on solitude & what it means to be alone. This story finds me on a warm, slushy Monday. The streets are filled with brown molasses, once tender fluffy snow. The skies are drearily grey, highlighted only by the shadow of white clouds. Reading this story has felt like sitting down with a friend in the midst of the changing weather during a day that feels like the perfect time for tales, long & detailed. Who are we, really, but the stories we share?
 
When the reader meets Dave it feels rather quaint. The narrator of our reflection comes to us as a friend, someone we know, someone we care about; sitting down to tell us the ways in which his life has evolved since we last spoke. It took me no time to become immersed in the narrative of this tale because the writing style leaned so wholeheartedly on the intimate, & the tender. Dave seeks to present his life just as it is. He certainly does not have all the answers to what has taken place & in some cases he feels a little confused, maybe even a bit conflicted. Regardless, he wants to share these things with you.

As all good stories do, this one starts in the middle. I do not say this in earnest but rather to highlight that many of the stories I love find me when they need to. I am not a reader who necessitates standing at the marked line for a story’s transition to make sense to me; I am happy to be along when my ears, eyes, & mind are needed. I did, however, question what this story was about. In its entirety, we read about the quest that two parents have undertaken to adopt a family pet. At first, they must consider themselves, their individual needs & restrictions, before adopting another member.

We learn so much about the narrator & his partner through this segment. When once the recollection of these lists is done—allergies, attention, fur, the outdoors, etc.—they decide that a rabbit is as good a choice as any. I don’t know that we are ever fully prepared to adopt something new into our lives. The adults did not seem, to me, as unorganized folks. Rather I felt like they must have been the types to research & settle out details before jumping into the unknown. This turns out to be a false assumption. Even though we read about their attempts to narrow their search, these efforts are introspective instead of extrospective.

Can the reader blame them? As the story goes on we realize that the individuals leading the quest for a family pet are no two people, rather they are a singular orb that cajoles through life. There cannot be room for more; the orb’s nucleus is sealed tight. However, they adopt the rabbit anyways. Gunter becomes a part of the family that doesn’t know one from the other. Gunter doesn’t seem to mind. He either lives or dies. It is simple fate that brings him closer to the core of Dave’s person; a caring man with tenderness given in all of the silent ways in which we communicate in this life.

I am still unsure as to how I might interpret this story. I was lucky enough to have read this alongside « Scott » & « Olivia », both of whose perspectives helped shape my own. All the while I was reading this book as though someone had been telling me details as minute as mouse prints on a carpeted floor, they saw something more. All the while that I felt a connection to the silent maneuvering of the outside force that was the rabbit, they reflected on the man. I am appreciative of this fact. I might have forgotten that Dave was meant to be my friend had it not been for their points.

This leads me to question my own motives & we find ourselves at the onset of this review—solitude. How do we connect with one another? Can we understand the pain that lives in those with whom we share space? Do things need to be said to be understood? All the while I was reading about a divorce, a home made empty & changed to be something completely different & new, I thought about the rabbit who had no choice. Yet, I am a person, just like Dave who has had their life changed & seen the rising moon & setting sun. Why do I connect with the only entity in this story who has no lines, whose presence is nothing more than the fleshy mount that wanders close to the floor?

I do not wish for my comments to come across as lacking empathy. I love animals, a great deal, in fact. Yet, we cannot exchange thoughts. I cannot turn to the dogs in my family & ask them if they are okay in their hearts. There is no way for me to breach the silence that binds us to our differences. That being said, silence is often where I feel the most heard. I have been this way all my life. It is unsurprising that I should make eye contact with Gunter & feel comfort in the still air surrounding us. Maybe that is the point, for each of us to read & listen & reflect. Maybe tomorrow I will remember the ways in which Dave remembered love. Maybe next week I will look at my teeth & wonder if the sawing motion hurt Gunter.

The writing style of this story is transportive. It is intimate & kind, it is everything that lies within the mind; those words we sometimes don’t know how to say, those feelings that are uncomfortable to name. I appreciated this story very much because it was honest. Reading this story felt like meeting another living being at the precipice of their own story; not the beginning, yet not quite at its end. Reading these lines reminded me of how long we have on this earth if only a day; this is infinitely more than a moment, longer than a second, eternally bigger than a blink.

If you would like to read this story, please visit this •LINK•

[Scott McLarens · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a book that I read and loved.