Shon
05-30-2004, 11:46 AM
The first rule of dog fight club is bring a barf bag. A man killing a dog, or a dog killing a man, tends to be sickening. In his debut novel, "The Dog Fighter," Marc Bojanowski delves into the sordid and bloody world of canine clinches as seen through the eyes of one competitor.
This often-gruesome story is set in the 1940s, when most of the world was consumed with World War II. But in the remote Baja village of Cancion, Mexico, the battle is between the businessmen who want to develop the land and the townspeople who like the place just as it is. The unnamed narrator, a drifter damaged by childhood emotional wounds, arrives to help construct a huge new beachfront hotel. He is soon drawn into the violence of dog fighting, which lends him the power and identity that he lost during his unhappy childhood.
But as he becomes more famous as a dog fighter, he is soon stuck between the town's two factions. A couple of aging revolutionaries attempt to enlist him in the anti-development movement, yet the dog fighter continues to mix with the developers because he is obsessed with one of their mistresses.
The novel's plot is interesting enough, but the real action lies in the title character's interior evolvement. At first, the dog fighter seems too damaged to exist -- he's just a lean, mean, dog-fighting machine. Until he falls in love.
The second rule of dog fight club is bring a barf bag. A man drooling after a woman while standing in a puddle of puppy puke tends to be sickening -- or you could laugh yourself sick. Bojanowski's graphically bloody scenes can be comically over-the-top. But though he paints the emotions of love and hate with broad strokes, he reveals the dog fighter's inner life slowly, even delicately.
At first, Bojanowski seems overly concerned with his style. His prose is so minimal he can't even be bothered to use commas, quotation marks or apostrophes. His revolting descriptions gush shock value (see rules one and two). And his tone is quite grim and humorless; think Cormac McCarthy in a depressed mood.
But as the dog fighter becomes more entrenched in his new community and cultivates relationships, he softens, and so does the writing. The novel's idyllic setting, finely drawn with precise details, is evocative and unique -- the perfect backdrop to underscore the villagers' barbarity.
"The Dog Fighter" is a basic good-versus-evil tale, steeped in violence and sentiment. It examines the human compulsion toward savagery while longing for true love. The dog fighting scenes are grotesque, certainly not for the squeamish, but the author lays bare the chilling horror of sadistic blood sport. And the dog fighter's journey is simultaneously scary and sweet, with his final destiny revealed only on the novel's final pages. For a first-time rule-breaking novelist, Bojanowski handles his gritty material well -- as long as he keeps it on the leash.
Bojanowski reads from "The Dog Fighter" at 7:30 p.m. Wednesday at Twenty-third Avenue Books, 1015 N.W. 23rd Ave.
This often-gruesome story is set in the 1940s, when most of the world was consumed with World War II. But in the remote Baja village of Cancion, Mexico, the battle is between the businessmen who want to develop the land and the townspeople who like the place just as it is. The unnamed narrator, a drifter damaged by childhood emotional wounds, arrives to help construct a huge new beachfront hotel. He is soon drawn into the violence of dog fighting, which lends him the power and identity that he lost during his unhappy childhood.
But as he becomes more famous as a dog fighter, he is soon stuck between the town's two factions. A couple of aging revolutionaries attempt to enlist him in the anti-development movement, yet the dog fighter continues to mix with the developers because he is obsessed with one of their mistresses.
The novel's plot is interesting enough, but the real action lies in the title character's interior evolvement. At first, the dog fighter seems too damaged to exist -- he's just a lean, mean, dog-fighting machine. Until he falls in love.
The second rule of dog fight club is bring a barf bag. A man drooling after a woman while standing in a puddle of puppy puke tends to be sickening -- or you could laugh yourself sick. Bojanowski's graphically bloody scenes can be comically over-the-top. But though he paints the emotions of love and hate with broad strokes, he reveals the dog fighter's inner life slowly, even delicately.
At first, Bojanowski seems overly concerned with his style. His prose is so minimal he can't even be bothered to use commas, quotation marks or apostrophes. His revolting descriptions gush shock value (see rules one and two). And his tone is quite grim and humorless; think Cormac McCarthy in a depressed mood.
But as the dog fighter becomes more entrenched in his new community and cultivates relationships, he softens, and so does the writing. The novel's idyllic setting, finely drawn with precise details, is evocative and unique -- the perfect backdrop to underscore the villagers' barbarity.
"The Dog Fighter" is a basic good-versus-evil tale, steeped in violence and sentiment. It examines the human compulsion toward savagery while longing for true love. The dog fighting scenes are grotesque, certainly not for the squeamish, but the author lays bare the chilling horror of sadistic blood sport. And the dog fighter's journey is simultaneously scary and sweet, with his final destiny revealed only on the novel's final pages. For a first-time rule-breaking novelist, Bojanowski handles his gritty material well -- as long as he keeps it on the leash.
Bojanowski reads from "The Dog Fighter" at 7:30 p.m. Wednesday at Twenty-third Avenue Books, 1015 N.W. 23rd Ave.