CRITIQUE:

The Call of Domesticity

When Dad was a little boy, he loved a book called "The Call of the Wild". It was about a dog called Buck that was taken away from his home and sold to strangers. The author, apparently, was protesting against the "humanisation" of animals. In the author's mind, the dog did not think about doing any of the things he wrote about in the book, he merely did them. It wasn't directed by abstract reasoning, but by instinct, sensation, and emotion, and by simple reasoning. (1) The dog was most at home, and most dignified, in the wild, not in domesticity, at the beck and call of humans.

Nevertheless, when he read the book, Dad started a life-long ambition: he wanted to have a dog, ironically, at home. Not through any sympathy with the plight of dogs, Dad's parents never bought him a dog. They didn't want to be responsible for taking care of it.

When Dad got married to Mum, and they had two daughters, they, too, wanted to have a dog. But like his parents, Dad said no. Ironically, in the quest for a dog, Dad compromised little by little, first buying gold fish, then guinea pigs. They were no match for a dog, but, in a way, they were training, a kind of experiment to see whether Claudie and Lily could and would take care of their pets. The experiment didn't necessarily prove anything, but sooner or later, Mum and Dad went to a pet shop and bought me. They thought I was the cutest dog in the shop, and so did their daughters when they brought me home.

I was never a wild dog, I never bit anybody or anything, I soon learned all of my lessons, even though I continued to bark at anybody who passed our front gate. I always let Mum and Dad know if any robbers were near. They thought I was a good guard dog, but in reality I couldn't differentiate between the pedestrians who passed our home. Some were neighbours or lived in the street, and were just walking to the bus stop or the shops. Some had parked their car in the street, and were walking to the hospital where they worked. But the ones I barked loudest at, were the ones who had dogs of their own. I barked at them, and they barked back. Everybody thought we were mad dogs, but we were just playing a dog game with each other. Eventually, the other dogs' masters would take a different route and avoid our gate. I didn't have to bark as much, which was a relief.

Even so, a dog's life continued to be tiring, and I needed to sleep a lot, even during the day. I still needed to sleep at night, and Mum and Dad let me sleep at their feet, on the big bed. Although they think I'm pretty cute, I am a little lazy, and I'm always the last out of bed in the morning.

I might be lazy, but I still love it when Dad takes me for a walk in the afternoon. We used to start at 4pm, but bit by bit we've started earlier. Dad thinks it's because I love going for a walk with him, but it's really because I love the treats he gives me when we get home, so it's my way of getting to eat my treats earlier in the day.

The problem is that, if I have my treats early, I get hungry again the same day, and I need to have my dinner and my dinner treats. Mum gets annoyed with me, and won't let me have any more until an hour later. If I whimper enough, Dad will weaken and give me some more treats. It's not very noble of me, but I get what I need. Well, I get what I want, anyway.

Sometimes, Mum and Dad go away in the car and leave me at home by myself. I don't know where they go, although sometimes Mum comes back with plastic bags. Some of the bags have my food in them, I know, because I can smell my food, even if it's still in cardboard packaging. My nose still works, as if I lived in the wild.

Dad likes to go for a long walk every morning. He doesn't take me, because that's when I'm still sleeping in bed. He takes some treats with him, which I assume he gives to other dogs he meets on the way. I can tell, because I can smell other dogs on his legs, but most of all I can smell where he has had the treats in a pouch around his stomach.

Dad also likes reading books. Until recently, none of these books had been about animals, but he has just read two animal books in a row, one was about cats, and this book was about a dog. The dog was called Mr. Bones (aka Cal and Sparky), and he seemed to think and talk like a human. He wasn't wild at all. I don't know why humans think a talking dog is special. All dogs can talk. It's just that not all humans can hear or understand us.

Mr Bones had a number of owners. The first was Willy G. Christmas, who ended up dying. Willy tried to take him to an old lady who used to teach English to him, so she could take care of him when he (Willy) died and went to Timbuktu (his name for Heavens above). Instead, a Chinese boy called Henry Chow found him on the street and took him home, although he didn't let his parents know that he had found a dog. He thought they would make him take it to the pound. I've never been to a pound, but the other dogs I've spoken to have always said, you don't want to end up in the pound. They don't give you all the food you need, like your home parents would. A pound is a bit like having a bad owner who won't take care of you properly. Some owners even hurt their dogs. Why would you hurt a dog, let alone your own dog?

Hold on, I think I smelled Dad coming in through the front gate. I have to go now. I'll try to meet him out the front. With any luck, he might have a treat left for me. Besides, I don't want him to find out that I've been typing on his computer. He thinks he's the one who writes all these reviews on GoodReads.

Ciao,
Charlie Gronson
Maltese Lhasa-Apso cross



FOOTNOTES:

(1) The Call of the Wild

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Cal...


SOUNDTRACK:

Cat Stevens - "I Love My Dog"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWT2q...

Fionn Regan - "Put a Penny in the Slot"

https://youtu.be/THTmZyWQNFY

Pavlov's Dog - "Julia"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k3KSp...

Pavlov's Dog - "Song Dance"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IZ_vM...

Pavlov's Dog - "Valkerie"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p7RtI...

Se conseguíssemos saber, exatamente, no que pensam os cães, tenho a certeza que era algo como o que aqui foi escrito!
Triste e bonito, Paul Auster conseguiu surpreender-me outra vez!

I have had this book on my shelves for a number of years, but despite being a fan of many of Auster's books, I had failed to read it due to the premise of it being written from the point of view of a dog-ludicrous surely? When I saw the book available as Audible's Daily Deal for $3 I thought it was worth checking to see if this was the case, and I'm pleased to say that it was quite the opposite.

As a massive dog lover, it quickly became apparent that I was going to empathise with the character of scruffy mongrel Mr Bones, and I quickly found myself relating my own wee dog's traits to his. When his original owner, Willy Christmas, an equally scruffy and mentally unstable character, passes away, we follow the dog as he wanders Baltimore's streets in search of a new owner, and interacts with a number of different humans.

Auster does a superb job in portraying canine characteristics from the point of view of Mr Bones' stream of consciousness, without being too fantastical or patronising. I was gripped by the story, and found myself laughing out loud at times, and at the edge of my seat at others, as the mutt went about his business. Of course, we find out about the human characters in the novel via their interactions with Mr Bones or their interactions with each other in his presence, but it's definitely the mongrel who is the star.

I couldn't stop myself listening on to finish this book in a couple of days. It's definitely one that I'll return to in future!

2.5/5
Sinceramente, no sabemos qué estaba pensando el autor a la hora de escribir un libro tan básico. No es que sea una mala novela, puesto que resulta agradable de leer, pero tampoco buena, puesto que se nota vacía de contenido: un libro que deja mucho que desear a muchos niveles. Reseña completa:
http://www.libros-prohibidos.com/paul...

3.75 stars rounded up

It’s difficult for me to rate this book for many reasons. I loved the narration being from Mr. Bones’s point of view but did not like the long-winded stream of consciousness style. Mr. Bones is the dog of Willy, a homeless man and poet living in Brooklyn, and the title Timbuktu refers to what Willy calls the afterlife or where you go once you die.

I purchased this book years ago and the black Labrador dog on the cover looked so cute. It wasn’t til years later when I adopted my dog in 2015 that I remembered the book- “oh he’s like that dog on the cover of that Auster book!” I have a picture of him in my goodreads profile; he looks just like Mr. Bones. It still took me quite a while to get around to reading this but I’m very glad I finally did. It has made me quite sad however- the ending, missing my own dog (he’s alive but living with my ex across the country), and just all the emotions of the New Year. Paul Auster novels never fail to make me feel some sort of way after I finish reading them.

I did not like the first 50% of this novel but I loved the mid-way section onward. Warning for readers that you might not enjoy this as much due to the long chapters that don’t have many breaks and the somewhat “where is this going?” feeling. It’s not the best Auster novel I’ve read nor is it the best dog book I’ve read, but it was interesting and unique.

“I could sit here and tell you everything’s going to work out but what’s the point in lying to you? Maybe it will and maybe it won’t. I’m no fortune-teller, and the truth is not all stories have happy endings.”

I genuinely loved Mr. Bones and applaud the great characterization as our narrator. Dogs forever!!

Μια βαθια συγκινητικη ιστορια μεσα απο τα ματια ενος σκυλου που αποχωριζεται απο το αφεντικο του οταν εκεινος χανει τη ζωη του.ετσι ο τετραποδος πρωταγωνιστης πρεπει να ξαναβρει ενα νεο αφεντικο , μια ασφαλεια και την αγαπη που του πηραν βιαια..ομως οπως αναφερεται και μεσα στο βιβλιο, δεν έχουν ολες οι ιστοριες αισιο τελος...
ενας Auster πολυ διαφορετικος απο αυτον που εχω συνηθισει.πολυ συναισθηματικος, ευαισθητος καταπιανεται με ενα θεμα που δε θα αφησει ασυγκινητο κανεναν ζωοφιλο.η προζα του για αλλη μια φορα εξαιρετικη...
3.5 ��στερια

It's rare that I feel indifferent about a Paul Auster novel. They inspire in me either wonderment or intense dislike. The New York Trilogy changed the way I read books. Travels in the Scriptorium remains one of the few books thrown by my hand. While Timbuktu didn't quite muster up enough feeling to risk pulling my arm out of socket once again, it certainly falls on the terrible side of Auster's work. Really, it's strange to me that this is even a book he wrote. It's so un-Auster-like. There are no red notebooks full of strange cryptographs, no nameless characters spying on the nameless protagonist. Paul Auster himself, nor any of his doppelgängers, make any cameos. It's just a simple picaresque about a dog who understands everything humans say to him, but is incapable of communicating back. And what the reader is left with is a strange mush of un-Auster-like sentimentality.

من که به شدت باهاش حال کردم. اگه ترجمه اش بی اشکال بود پنچ ستاره هم بهش می دادم. خلاصه اینکه واسه من اثر کلاسیکی شد. فعلا این بهترین کتابیه که از استر خوندم؛ بخور و نمیر و کشور آخرین ها بعد از این کتاب قرار می گیرند

قبل از ورود به بحث ترجمه باید تأکید کنم ترجمه علی رغم مشکلاتش اصلا سخت خوان نیست و می شه راحت و روون خوندنش

هزارتوی ترجمه

شهرزاد لولاچی رو از شهر شیشه ای و اتاق در بسته می شناسم و ذیل اون کتاب ها نقایص کارش را گفته ام به صورت کلی. برای همین وقتی سراغ این کتاب می آمدم از پیش می دانستم که روی ترجمه ای معقول و مطابق نباید حساب باز کنم. حال که کتاب را خوانده ام باید اذعان کنم که حتا از آنچه فکر می کردم هم بدتر بود ترجمه. از بی دقتی های معدود که بگذریم - مثلا جاافتادگی یا قاطی شدن زمان افعال - ، مترجم گویی در مورد اصطلاحات عامیانه یکسره از مراجعه به واژه نامه ابا دارد. کتاب پر است از اصطلاحات خودمانی؛ ارجاعات فرهنگی هم بعضا حی و حاضرند. اما نویسنده همه را سرهم بندی کرده. بسیاری اصطلاحات را یا یکسره اشتباه ترجمه کرده یا نادیده گرفته. اشارات فرهنگی هم بدون توضیح رها شده - مثلا اسامی این یا آن آدم یا این یا آن برند و ... . اینها اگر در چاپ اول قابل گذشت باشد - که در دهه ی پیش بوده - دیگر با وجود دسترسی همگانی به اینترنت و وفور فرهنگ های لغات عامیانه به صورت آنلاین در این سال ها قابل پذیرش نیست. متاسفانه مترجم نسبت به خواننده تعهدی از خود نشان نمی دهد و این مایه ی نگرانی است

مواردی از اشتباهات رو مشخص کرده بودم که اینجا بنویسم اما دیگه حوصله اش نیست و چون معدود نیست به نظرم هر خواننده ای می تونه با تطبیق چند صفحه بهشون برسه

Ik stond wat argwanend tegenover dit boek omdat ik niet zo hou van dieren die het hoofdpersonage vormen. Het duurde ook een tijdje vooraleer ik in het verhaal kwam. Maar na een tijdje kon ik niet meer stoppen met lezen en heb ik zo genoten van dit boek. Het geeft je een visie van hoe de hond zich zou voelen, wat we natuurlijk niet kunnen weten. Maar het kwam zo natuurlijk over dat het precies echt was.
Zeer knap geschreven!

کتابی متفاوت از زبان یک سگ به اسم مستر جون ارزش خوندن رو داره:)

جميل، عذب، لطيف جدا
نهاية لسلسلة قراءات سيئة

Se han preguntado alguna vez ¿qué va a ser de la vida de un perrito cuando lo único que tiene es su dueño y este falta algún día para siempre?

Yo por ejemplo, siempre que veo a un habitante de la calle con su perro al lado, que lo acompaña en las miserias y alegrías me pregunto eso con nostalgia. Pues eso es Tombuctú, la vida de Mister Bones durante los últimos días con su dueño y su vida sin él. Un libro conmovedor y sincero que te enamora con las ocurrencias de sus personajes.

Cuando uno lee Tombuctú dan ganas de correr donde nuestro perro, decirle que todo va a estar bien, contarle nuestras tristezas y felicidades, porque seguro, al igual que Mister Bones te escuchará de alguna forma y te mirará hasta que entiendas que la vida es más sencilla cuando la miras a través del corazón de un perrito.