Those of us who live with animals, like cats or dogs, often share
simple but reliable methods of communication with them. We know
when they are happy, scared, hungry, angry, or want to play. We may
talk to them in our language and think they are talking back to us,
but we know we can never really share language with them. Legends
of talking dogs and horses abound but seem silly, like the
punchlines of jokes, or just plain impossible. But in Carolyn
Parkhurst's novel, THE DOGS OF BABEL, the idea of talking dogs is
deadly serious.

Paul Iverson's wife died mysteriously, falling from the apple tree
in their backyard. The police and medical examiner rule it an
accident, but Paul finds some troubling evidence that makes him
doubt the conclusion. He feels that his only hope in uncovering the
truth of his wife Lexy's last day is their dog Lorelei, who was the
only witness to the fall. With this sad and interesting premise,
Parkhurst shares with the reader Paul's emotional first year
without Lexy. And Paul's search for the truth about her death takes
him in frightening directions.

THE DOGS OF BABEL is not a mystery; Paul is not searching for a
murderer, only the truth about Lexy and her state of mind on the
day she died. A linguist by profession, Paul begins to obsess over
the idea that if only Lorelei could somehow share language with
him, she could tell him what really happened. He takes a sabbatical
from his university position and devotes himself to teaching
Lorelei to talk. This desire to learn what Lorelei knows about
Lexy's death takes Paul, and the novel, in a bizarre and tense
direction as he encounters a group of dog abusers and mutilators,
and risks Lorelei's safety. Confronted with the impossibility of
getting Lorelei to speak, Paul realizes he must go elsewhere for
the answers he is seeking. So he searches his memory and finds a
sadness and fear in Lexy that he never clearly saw while she was
alive.

This beautifully written novel swings back and forth between the
present --- Paul's fixation on not only trying to teach Lorelei to
speak but on his attempts to uncover other aspects of Lexy's last
days, such as her call to a television psychic and why she
rearranged the books on their bookshelves --- and the past, Paul's
memories of his years with Lexy in courtship and marriage. But even
through the veil of heartbreak, Paul begins to put together the
pieces he needs to understand Lexy and the way she died. Lexy, who
made her living creating beautiful and one-of-a-kind masks, often
hid behind her own creations. For Paul, it becomes essential to
strip away Lexy's mask and thus come to terms with her sudden and
tragic death.

Masks, talking dogs, square eggs, animal abuse, grief and memory,
psychics, marathon dates, death and love: Parkhurst daringly
attempts to fit the entirety of Paul's life into less than 300
pages. Part fairy tale and part horror story, Parkhurst captures
the sorrow and desperation of both Paul and Lexy. An imperfect but
inventive novel, THE DOGS OF BABEL is an emotional and frustrating
tale of both the romance and heartbreak of one marriage. Readers
willing to indulge Parkhurst just a little as she struggles to fit
many ideas and themes into one short novel will find a surprising
and original story that, like Paul Iverson, is both naïve and
wise.