Edgar is born mute on a farm in northern Wisconsin to a family who breeds and trains dogs capable of the deepest compassion and companionship. But when tragedy befalls the Sawtelle family, Edgar is forced to grow up quickly and recognize "the strangest kind of curse had been laid upon him: knowledge without hope of evidence.”
What makes this novel unique is its seemingly effortless use of language to capture story. David Wroblewski's prose is clear and warm, and each metaphor is as natural as the image it conveys. Never is the language forced, contrived, or distracting from the storytelling. While prose of this kind is valued in any and all literature, I feel it is particularly well paired for this novel's protagonist and major themes: becase Edgar is born mute he lacks spoken language but what makes this novel extraordinary is we can see that Edgar in no way lacks the subtleties of understanding and communication. This idea is extended further in that Edgar is not only able to communicate abstract and complex ideas with humans, but he can also communicate emotionally with animals--his dogs, and this says far more about the power of language and community than any English dictionary entry ever could.
This novel is all about spaces where language can fail us, and where opportunities for genuine connection and companionship begin.
I also credit the author for following the arc of Hamlet unbeknownst to me for the first third of the novel (whoops!). What I mean to say is that I was in no way distracted by the story as a Shakespearean retelling. Instead, this allusive layer allowed me to engage with the story with a deeper timeless resonance. Coming of age, betrayal, death. These are aspects of the human condition we will never transcend.
Sometimes it's more important to keep old stories safe rather than re-invent them for the sake of reinvention.
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