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Fiction. Literature. Romance. Science Fiction. HTML: The twentieth anniversary of a postmodern classic, blending the gothic novel with bleeding-edge science fiction After a century of cruel experimentation, a haunted race of genetically and biomechanically uplifted canines are created by the followers of a mad nineteenth-century Prussian surgeon. Possessing human intelligence, speaking human language, fitted with prosthetic hands, and walking upright on their hind legs, the monster dogs are intended to be super soldiers. Rebelling against their masters, however, and plundering the isolated village where they were created, the now wealthy dogs make their way to New York, where they befriend the young NYU student Cleo Pira and�acting like Victorian aristocrats�become reluctant celebrities. Unable to reproduce, doomed to watch their race become extinct, the highly cultured dogs want no more than to live in peace and be accepted by contemporary society. Little do they suspect, however, that the real tragedy of their brief existence is only now beginning. Told through a variety of documents�diaries, newspaper clippings, articles for Vanity Fair, and even a portion of an opera libretto�Kirsten Bakis's Lives of the Monster Dogs uses its science-fictional premise to launch a surprisingly emotional exploration of the great themes: love, death, and the limits of compassion. A contemporary classic, this edition features a new introduction by Jeff VanderMeer..… (more)
User reviews
This book, applauded by the literary set, is a good example of how a science fiction premise – here the surgical modification of dogs to become intelligent soldiers – is built upon and evaluated by the literary and sf sets. I don’t
I’m in the sf set, and I liked parts of this book: the central premise, the accounts of Augustus Rank, creator of the monster dogs and his grotesque experiments (including reversing the front and back hooves on a cow), the colony of scientists in the Canadian wilderness, and the revolt of the monster dogs (told via opera lyrics composed by a monster dog) which destroys the colony’s human inhabitants.
However, there were major flaws which violated sf aesthetics.
First, Bakis rapidly glosses over the establishment of the Canadian settlement and the development of the monster dogs in about 4 pages. The typical sf reader would like some account of the logistics of establishing the colony, and the techniques of creating monster dogs. Sf tradition doesn’t insist the details be plausible but that they be given, even if only in glib technobabble.
The second flaw is the monster dogs. Monster dog historian Ludwig von Sacher says they are monster dogs because they have no culture of their own and live pathetic imitation of humans. They not only don’t have a culture of their own; they don’t have a personality of their own; they don’t seem like alien creatures or dogs. The only real difference between the monster dogs and humans is the former’s reliance on smells. Their sexual habits and thought patterns seem very human like. Thus I suspect the monster dogs are here just for obscure metaphorical purposes and not as a seriously explored premise to be treated both realistically and metaphorically as true sf aliens often are. Bakis seems to be either totally uninterested in lending verisimilitude to her conceit – thus the quick gloss on the birth of the monster dogs and the Canadian settlement – or trying to avoid hard intellectual work.) One mention is made of the monster dogs repressed violence (unleashed in Mops Rank’s revolt), but this is never explored and is only realized in the opera. We do not get the sense of repressed bestiality of Wells’ The Island of Dr. Moreau nor even of a modern version of the same idea like S. Andrew Swann’s Moreau series.
Finally, the dogs are lapsing into senility because of a disease very unsatisfactorily explained as being the mystical result of Augustus Rank’s memory fading from the world. The metaphysical conceit is that Rank’s creations decay when their creator’s spirit fades. The whole book seems an incoherent metaphor for the influence of memory on the world and our lives.
"A bizarre, haunting, fiercely original first novel!"
Created by a German mad scientist in the 19th century, the monster dogs are as intelligent as humans, speak our language (though the long muzzles give them trouble), have prosthetic hands and walk upright on hind legs. Because they're from another era, they wear the latest in Victorian fashions, complete with walking sticks and top hats.
They've been a well-kept secret up in the woods of Canada for more than a century. But, through a series of human failures, they're unleashed on the rest of the world. The dogs' descendants arrive in New York City in the year 2008, still acting like Victorian-era aristocrats and hoping to find their place in the world. It's no surprise they quickly become celebrities. After all, every dog has his day.
The narrator, Cleo Pira (the novel's most uninteresting character), is a struggling NYU student chosen as the dogs' human scribe by Klaue ("Claw"), their paranoid, power-drunk leader (the novel's most interesting character). She also befriends Ludwig, the dogs' historian, and Lydia, a gentle Samoyed. All is not perfect in the kennel, however. Soon, it's discovered there's a flaw in the design of the dogs, causing them to revert back to their original state--things like flea-scratching and chewing the legs of tables signal the eventual decline of their western civilization.
I really wanted to like this novel. I was intrigued by the idea of a race of dogs who finally had the chance to bite the hand that fed them all these years. How often have you looked at your pooch and thought, "I wonder what Fido thinks about eating Kibbles 'n Bits every day?" If he was Ludwig, he'd probably bite your ankle. There's a quirky originality in the turned-tables concept of this novel. All it needs is Charlton Heston and it would make great entertainment: "Planet of the Poodles."
Then there's the jacket cover--a formal portrait of a Malamute in a smoking jacket. The darned mutt looked so intelligent, like he had a lot to say to me.
Unfortunately, once I got into the story, I found that Bakis really didn't have much of a message. Or, if she did, the point was lost in all the growling and gnashing of teeth.
I did like the pseudo fairy tale nature of "Monster Dogs," but Bakis dulls the book with pages of unimaginative language and clumsy handling of the plot. I also had a hard time connecting with the characters. Sure, they're dogs, but I wanted to feel their pain.
Perhaps it's unfair to compare "Monster Dogs" with "Planet of the Apes," but somehow I was able to make a quick and deep connection with the chimpanzee Cornelius in those movies. There was a heart behind the ape; there's not much under the fur of Bakis' hounds.
I really loved this, but...the book does fall flat at the end, so much so that I wondered whether Bakis intended a sequel. (If she
The narrator Cleo's relationship with the genetically altered, intelligent, speaking dogs explores what we mean by friendship, by love, by
The story is told by Cleo, a young woman who loves the dogs, and Ludwig, who wants to write a history of their creation and lives and who is also different from the other dogs, who
Thanks to the work of a madman, Augustus Rank, and his followers, the dogs walk upright, speak with the help of a mechanical voice box, have prosthetic hands, and are intelligent. They were created to be the supremely loyal soldiers. Unfortunately they are treated as slaves and, like good soldiers once they have a leader, they rebel, slaughtering all of Rank's followers, who live in a remote village. Eventually the dogs end up very rich and dressed in the height of Prussian elegance in New York.
The story is apparently a parable---one of the blurbs says so---but I guess I'm not literary enough to understand what that means. Rank is portrayed as creepy; but the dogs must see him as a god---certainly a Creator. Even though Rank is evil and insane, the results of his horrible experiments and plans want to be decent. The sadness in the story comes from the way the dogs were created, their unfair treatment, the terrible reaction to it, the fact that even though New Yorkers takes them to their hearts, we know that it's only because they are the newest craze, the fact that, as much as they try to behave like humans, they never can be, and, as much as they doggedly try to deny their "dogness", they cannot help reverting to it. Surprisingly, the ending is not as totally bleak as I had expected it to be.
It was an arresting premise (and an eye-catching cover), and the backstory was promising. I especially liked the way the dogs were taken up as fashionable and how they
But the last part of the novel simply fell apart. It was as though the author had wound the spring of a windup toy too tightly, and so, instead of running forward like a good little fictional device, it spun wildly in all directions and then fizzled out. Once she lost control of it, she never got it back.
A few months ago I read Carmen Dog by Carol Emshwiller, and obviously I was reminded of this -- since both are New York novels featuring intelligent talking canines -- when I picked up Bakis's book. In reality, the two are quite different creations: Emshwiller's is a feminist surrealist satire
Back at the end of the 19th century and first part of the 20th, mitteleuropean sociopath Augustus Rank had a dream of creating, by use of prosthetics, dogs that could walk and talk. Fleeing eventually to Canada where he founded a remote settlement to further his project, he was still never to see the success he craved. Those who survived him, however, did manage to bring into being the monster dogs of the book's title -- dogs who, in our present (the book's near future), massacre their human creators and come to New York in hope of finding their place in human society . . . and also of rediscovering their own past. By happenstance, a young woman called Cleo becomes their chronicler. You might expect that those chronicles of hers would comprise the novel's text, but no: here we have Cleo's own informal reminiscences of her encounters and interactions with some of the canine leaders and intellectuals, plus various documents -- even including an opera libretto! -- depicting the dogs' past. Far too soon, though, the dogs realize they can have no future -- that their construction includes irreparable flaws -- and they prepare the way for their species to have a dignified exit.
To say this book is odd would be trite -- and also misleading, because one of the wonderful things about it is that it's almost not odd: before very long I found myself accepting its narrative, which avoids all temptations to lurch into Dr Moreau territory, as something quite naturalistic, as if there were nothing outrageous at all about a community of talking dogs having implausible adventures in NYC. This is a haunting, marginally disquieting book that I suspect I'll be remembering for a very long time to come.
The book is one that definitely holds potential but it also holds a lot of missing ends. She looks like Maria but there is never any explanation and the character of Maria seems to be hazy itself for one minute she is an invalid but then you find that she has been having an affair this whole time. For her character it just doesn't fit. Furthermore there were at least two spots that held a possible attempt at helping to explain Cleo's ties to the dogs but they were never explored but just left hanging.
The author does have a wonderful way of voice for you can tell the characters apart by how the writing is. Ludwig is more scientific and more dry while when Cleo is talking you want to rattle her around a bit. Cleo seems to have been lacking on the build-up of her character for she is more flat than the dogs while it makes me wonder if this is where "Lives of the Monster Dogs" was suppose to be a Beauty & Beast variation with a larger cast than just two.
And what flattened the book for me after seeming so promising was the end. it was working truly well but then it just broke up as things went confusing. The story went off on a goose-chase that didn't make sense while seemingly garbled before finishing up with a flattened end.
It is one of those books that is not a recommended type for me. Basically an individual will need to pick this up of their own choosing and after reading it make their own choice whether it is a keeper or to be reshelved.
Something with such an interesting title should not be allowed to
Amazon: “Created by a German mad scientist in the 19th century, the monster dogs possess human intelligence, speak human language, have prosthetic humanlike hands and walk upright on hind legs. The dogs’ descendants arrive in New York City in the year 2008, still
Although this was well-written and interesting, I wasn’t as caught up in the tragic lives of these dogs as I should have been. 3½ stars
Kirsten Bakis is great!
The plot, a synopsis of which was what interested me originally in this book, involves a
Rarely has such a good premise, full of so many ideas ripe for exploration, been utilized so poorly. Even Cleo, the dogs' human spokesperson, is underdrawn. We learn far more about her taste in clothes than about the reason for her fascination with the dogs. Ultimately, while this book isn't monstrous, it is a dog. I wonder why it was short-listed for the Orange Prize.
I can describe the whole plot in about 3 sentences, but this isn’t a character
The writing is haphazard and rambling. It starts with the first half alternating styles and then abandons it halfway through. The lead character isn’t very interesting (or fleshed out), but we’re supposed to believe that she has been picked out of everyone else in New York for some special quality, yet we’re never given a hint what that might be or why the dogs thing she’s so special. There are many such unexplained phenomenon, missing narrative, and even giant plot holes. This isn’t a long book, but it still has too much pointless conversations and random thoughts of the lead character that I just wasn’t interested in.
It’s exactly as if someone said "I have a great idea for a book" (and did) but then couldn’t fulfill that promise. Many of the details of the ideas and settings are really good. I want to like this book so much that I want to tell the author to go back and take another shot at it.