Readers' Reviews

The art of racing in the rain by Garth Stein

This is a six-hanky story. It made this reader weep buckets, particularly at the end, as Enzo, the novel's singular hero leaves this life and everyone he loves, and, even though the cover blurb warns us that this will happen, I still was not prepared for the way Enzo's demise touched my heart.

For Enzo is a dog. A nondescript bitser of a dog, who recounts in detail his life for more than ten years with Denny Swift, his owner and aspiring racecar driver, and the true friend of his heart. Enzo is constantly frustrated with the shortcomings of being a dog: inability to talk, thanks to that long, flat tongue, no opposable thumbs, and the perpetual assumption by most people that because he is 'just an animal' he is stupid. Well. Enzo may not be able to talk, but he knows how to listen and he relates for the reader a loving, intelligent and insightful account of Denny's relationship and marriage to Eve, initially causing Enzo to feel great envy: 'She was a person, unlike me. She was well groomed. Unlike me. She was everything I wasn't. I went for extended periods without a haircut or a bath, for instance; she bathed every day and had a special person to do nothing else but colour her hair to Denny's liking. My nails grew too long and scratched the wood floor; she frequently attended to her nails with sticks and clippers and polishes to make sure they were the proper shape and size.' For Enzo this is a no-win situation, but being a smart dog he decides that whomever Denny loves, he should too, including their little girl, Zoe, everyone's darling.

The remainder of this beautiful story deals with Eve's illness and slow, agonising death from brain cancer, and the different ways her loved ones cope: 'she leaned forward to give me my bowl of food and my nose was near her head. I detected a bad odour, like rotting wood, mushrooms, decay. It came from her ears and sinuses. There was something inside Eve's head that didn't belong. My nose - yes, my little black nose that is leathery and cute - could smell the disease in Eve's brain long before she knew it was there. But I hadn't a facile tongue. So all I could do was watch and feel empty inside; Eve had assigned me to protect Zoe no matter what, but no-one had been assigned to protect Eve. And there was nothing I could do to help her'.

Garth Stein writes beautifully and convincingly of love, loss and betrayal, and Enzo is such an enthralling character that no-one who reads this book will be able to regard dogs in quite the same old way ever again - except for dog afficionados, who will know already and understand completely what he is saying about all canines.

Contrary to the impression given by this reader that Mr. Stein has written, however brilliantly, a tale of woe, Enzo does a very nice line in ironic humour and this wonderful novel does have a happy, redemptory ending, with long-awaited success and eventual happiness for Denny and Zoe - thank goodness: my poor emotions couldn't have withstood more sorrows without having to stagger off to find something with which to drown them! 'The Art of Racing in the Rain' is not for the emotionally faint-hearted (as I found out) but is poignant, acutely observant of the human condition, and, in spite of the tears, a joy to read. Enzo and Garth Stein will remain long-term favourites with this reader: they are both unforgettable.

Reviewer: Julia Kuttner

22 August 2008