Tuesday, July 20, 2010

It's A Dog's LIfe

Narrow Dog to Carcassonne. If Bill Bryson (A Walk in the Woods, In A Sunburned Country) decided to take his wife and dog in a narrow canal boat to cross the English Channel and explore France, and if he decided to disregard almost all punctuation, this is the book he would write.

And the Fab 5 would read it all, given enough time. As it turned out, two of us almost finished it, and two of us merely got a taste of it. For the record, I am one of the two who almost finished it (and skimmed the rest). I report that only so you don't think I'm getting into a habit of reporting on books I haven't even made it halfway through. That will come later this year, when work picks up a bit!

Terry and Monica Darlington, along with their dog Jim--a whippet--made the journey through England, across the Channel, and through France in their 7-foot-wide English canal boat. Most travel books incite a renewed case of disastrous wanderlust in me, causing me to lose many hours of my life to Travelocity.com. The Fab 5 agreed that many months aboard a narrowboat (particularly crossing the Channel), waiting for locks to fill and open, isn't our next hoped-for adventure.

Sonya brought a catalog of canal boats along to the meeting. They look so cute and cozy, but yet so narrow. Perhaps it's having children at home that makes it sound so claustrophobic, or jobs that we must get back to, or the fact that most of our vacations are always fitted to the very limited time frame set for them. Terry and Monica are retired, which I realize doesn't mean they have nothing to do, but it gives them some freedom to take a leisurely pace if they so desire.

This book is hard to read. There are no quotation marks. And he jumps from topic to topic, allusion to allusion, event to event very quickly. I think he must have read Joyce's stream of consciousness novel Ulysses one too many times, or possibly even Finnegan's Wake. (Does anyone really read all of Finnegan's Wake?) But hard reading isn't necessarily unenjoyable. The book is hilarious, and the further we read, the more we liked it. It just takes a bit more time and concentration than we planned for a summer travel read.

Terry enjoys people, pubs and keeping his dog company. Monica, his tiny dynamo of a wife, keeps them moving in a straight line. Jim the whippet runs the show and keeps them on their toes. Jim encourages the pub habit and, sadly, hates boating. A couple of us might be next in line at the whippet adoption center. If you want to see a picture of Jim and his owners, you can look them up on http://www.narrowdog.com/.

I personally laughed out loud many times while reading, and I forced my husband to listen to many out-of-context readings that left me howling with laughter while he graced me with his patient smile, waiting for the opportunity to get back to his own book. Yes, I'm one of those people. But Darlington is a very funny writer, and his quiet exaggerations of certain scenes are worth the work of deciphering his paragraphs.

Talking about the book got us talking about vacations. Nancy is the opposite of Terry and Monica. While the Darlingtons are forever visiting other boaters or having them to visit, Nancy suggests that one good way to discourage strangers from talking to you at a campground is to display an Amway or Herbalife sticker in your vehicle--"Lose weight now, ask me how." She tried putting beer on the picnic table one time, but that only encouraged visitors. It would most certainly encourage Terry Darlington. Not so much a people person, that Nancy.

The follow up to this book is Narrow Dog to Indian River, in which they somehow take their boat (or at least a boat) down the United States to Florida. I definitely want to read this book, because I'd love to know Darlington's impressions of the American territory as he passes it by.

Next month we'll be getting our feminist groove on, reading When Everything Changed. It's something to do with the state of women in the US over the last 40 or 50 years. Get out the bras and the lighter fluid.

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