I do like Jonathan Carroll's voice. He creates some very real and visceral scenery and some of his witticisms are of a Vonnegut caliber. In short bursts, he uses words to great effect. But the larger story, well that's something else. For those of you that are Carroll fans and asked me to read more of his work, I invite you to stop reading this now, because I am done saying nice things about this book.The first quarter of this book started off well enough. It centers on Harry Radcliffe. Harry is a highly successful architect who, by his own admission, owes his success to natural talent rather than actual hard work. He is also an exceedingly shallow, arrogant shit bag that treats his friends like idiots and his multiple lovers even worse. A complete douche bag. He suffers a mental break down and seeks help and enlightenment from a crazy old guru. To this point, okay, interesting story. Then an earthquake hits and Harry's life is shaken up. Ooooo, see what he did there? Harry discovers magic is real and attains some level of enlightenment when the sultan who is trying to convince him to build a dog museum saves his life. Apparently though, it's none of the levels about being a better person or treating people well or anything like that. He's still a self-centered asshole and he keeps right on with that. No, instead he gains the level of enlightenment where you feel compelled to make really trite, long and crass Palahniuk-styled commentaries on society at large except he does it with less blatant shock value and more of a conservative/consumer culture apologist type of style. (some paraphrased examples- 'If America is so bad, why does everyone want to be us?', 'Eating at McDonalds is like a religious experience', 'My wealth is proof I deserve wealth' etc.) Oh, and he, as well as all the other characters in the book, suddenly develop a completely blasé attitude toward the existence of magic. Harry then embarks on some world hopping in search places to launch into more tired commentary and talk about how much one of his girlfriend’s eats. He also spends a lot of time arguing with the Sultan and offering his take on affairs in the middle-east that would have seemed pretty simplistic and naive in the 80's, let alone 2005. That's basically the next two-quarters of the book. It's boring, and if there was much point in it, it was lost on me. Oh, there's also a bunch of largely pointless magic shit that happens and there's a villain named 'Cthulhu'. Isn't that cute? Cthulhu. Yeah, we went there. I'm not sure if it's supposed to be a rip on Lovecraft or homage, but it's pretty fucking cheesy either way.**spoilers**Then we get to the real fun bit. At this point the tired commentary starts to more resemble sermons and Carroll starts setting up his big 'We're building the Tower of Babel' story-line. Apparently he doesn't think we're smart enough to catch all the symbolism so he actually has the main character sit down and go, 'Hey! I think I'm building the Tower of Babel!'. In keeping with his blasé attitude toward magic, he just rolls with it while he battles with his ex-girlfriends. Then, just in case the symbolism and blatantly stating it wasn't enough, in comes an angel to pound us on the heads with, 'Yes, we're you're building the Tower of Babel' and there's a bunch of sermons more or less about the glory of God and the arrogance of man. The tower gets mostly built as things come to a head with his exes. Then Cthulhu shows up and blows it to bits, but since Harry makes the one unselfish decision of his life and attempts to save his ex even though she did some mean shit to him (never mind that the mean act she committed on him could be seen as an honest, if slightly vengeful, act on her part and he deserved much worse) instead of save his building, he is redeemed. It's also interesting to note that at this point in the story, a man who has seen his dog return from the dead, his former guru visit him in the form of a child that is yet to be born, projectiles stopped in midair, been visited by an angel and a seen car shrunk and eaten by a man, for some reason completely loses his shit over seeing a guy turn into a deer. Sure. Makes a lot of sense. Oh, and he also discovers that Tyler Durden was actually him all along. Palm! I meant Palm, not Tyler Durden.Overall, the book was really preachy and crass while being conservative and not-so-subtly pro western culture. It's like Palahniuk channeling Ayn Rand. Not an enjoyable experience for me. The story had a throw-shit-at-the-wall-and-see-what-sticks feel to it. It didn't flow well and there was a lot of inconsistency and things that just didn't make sense narratively. Most of the characters in this book either poses Zen-like wisdom or are completely obtuse assholes. It was hard to like just about anybody in this, particularly the protagonist. I wanted to see terrible things happen to him. And while I get that it's supposed to be about redemption or God's grace etc., he is redeemed on, as I pointed out above, the most flimsy of pretenses. By the end the book becomes so preachy that had I not already invested several hours into it I would have abandoned it. It has a nice style and some really good parts, but as a whole it's a turd. Granted, it's a well written turd, but it's still a turd.
There are times when I'd like to punch that hamster in my head, that one that wakes me up in the middle of the night to start spinning its stupid little wheel or causes every action to be immediately followed by a paralyzing few hours of second-guessing, did I say the right thing or wouldn't it have been better if I had done that instead ohgodletmegobackintimeandredoit! It reminds me a little of that Calvin&Hobbes strip where the dad points out angular velocity to Calvin and the last panel shows Calvin in bed, little hands clutching his pillow with bloodshot eyes and knit brows, hah! Sigh. That hamster has been making a move on my enjoyment of reading, its squeaking and incessant running-in-place preventing the slow fade and melt into a book where I lose track of the time and awareness of my surroundings...I miss that. I'm tired.This would be an easy one to stutter through, stopping to think overmuch about significance and parallels. I wish I could be as effortless in that as certain others! I am put to shame. But I'm glad Carroll is a skilled enough storyteller that it was possible to read this with the hamster in a chokehold. I admit, I didn't attempt to fold this into my own life though it's always tempting to find ways to put me in the center of the universe. :) There was stuff about communication, meaning of life, selfishness, and a surprising thread of Biblical that appeared towards the end. But, also, magic dogs!I finished this while shivering outside a cafe, the sun failing to break through to let me look at it. People were walking by with their labs, setters, poodles, but just one, some kind of terrier with a pushed-up nose, sniffed my hem. The lady said he likes you (more likely, I need to do laundry). That warmed me a little bit. Later, as I rounded the corner to leave, I saw this lady with her dog waiting for her companion. She asked about this book and laughed when I told her it involved dogs. She said if it's on the NYT best-seller list she probably wouldn't like it. I gave her the book. It seemed appropriate. I hope she likes it.
What do You think about Outside The Dog Museum (2005)?
I usually love Jonathan Carroll but this is a mess which goes nowhere slow. Unlike many of his books which set up believeable characterisation and then insert an element of 'magic' and proceed to completely f*ck up those characters, this feels like the disparate threads of several books have been sewn together badly without any dramatic tension or interest. An architect coming through a mental breakdown is given a commission to build a Dog Museum - but really it's a test of his strength and abilities to build something else (no spoilers here). It feels like a pot boiler of a book - magical, fantastical elements are introduced matter-of-fact, the protagonist never sufficiently questioning what is happening to my personal satisfaction. This is a half-book, an unworked premise, and - like much of Carroll's work - the ending is flat. Despite occasional intriguing moments, this low key work didn't engage. But it's an easy enough read for Carroll completists.
—Andrew
The only reasons I picked up this book were that it was on the $1 rack at Half Price Books, I'd recently acquired a dog, and I like museums. I had never heard of the author. Oh, the main character was supposed to be an architect, and I like architecture, too. So I decided to give it a shot, and since it is a quirky book that was off my radar, I am reviewing it as well. Do not read this book if you have no tolerance for mysticism (e.g. if you are my brother-in-law). There are magical realist elements, mixed with Islamic folklore - the protagonist is suspected of being an afrit. Dreams can be difficult to distinguish from reality. God is invoked. The eventual significance of the dog museum is perfectly preposterous. Also do not bother if you are completely over the privileged middle-aged white male genius in crisis as narrator. Having got past those caveats, however, I found myself enjoying the book a lot. The main character's initial crisis is not just ennui but full blown mania, which is a lot more interesting. Some of the minor characters were well drawn, including a charismatic sultan and a terminally ill photographer. I had imagined conversations in my head with an architect friend over some of the juicy, opinionated passages related to architecture. And besides a good story, there is a great deal of philosophical interest here. Not a great book by any means, but certainly an intriguing one.
—Rebecca
I am so very glad to have discovered Carroll, because I enjoyed this novel immensely. The book is told from the point of view of the protagonist, Harry Radcliffe, a famed architect who is just recovered from a bout of lunacy and embarks on a commission to design a dog museum for the sultan of a fictional middle eastern nation. The story takes a lot of twists and turns and contains enough magical and metaphysical events to put the book into the category of fantasy or at least magical realism. Harry is often rather a jerk, but he's a basically good guy. His brash narration is full of wit and wonder, making Outside the Dog Museum a lot of fun to read. Yet this novel also has a lot of very important and striking things to say about the human urge to create. Carroll has the delightful gift of mixing the humorous and the profound, and combining fun with depth.
—Carol
