If I had to describe this novel in two (and a half?) words, I'd call it post-apocalyptic poetry. The story is told from the main character's perspective, but in a very intimate, almost stream-of-consciousness sort of way (think beautiful, rambling descriptions of things that take you away from the action for pages at a time; dialogue with no quotation marks, some of it entirely between the main character and himself; and so forth). I usually am not a fan of this style of writing, but it worked for me here. Hig's desperation and loneliness are so achingly beautiful, so sad and haunting and sincere - I just wanted to roll around in his words forever and ever. I appreciate that the author, who has an MFA in poetry, made Hig a poetry-lover and a bit of a poet himself - I think this is why I was able to savor the writing instead of just being frustrated or irritated by it. (Also, bonus points for creating a character who loves both hunting and 9th century Chinese poetry!)

As for the story, it's less about the apocalypse than it is about things like what it means to be human, whether it's enough to survive, and how to deal with joy and beauty in a dark and broken world. In this sense it reminds me a lot of Cormac McCarthy's The Road, although that book is much more brutal. Even though there is some hideous violence in The Dog Stars, and some pretty awful people, Hig's dreamy, poetic narration provides a sense of distance between the reader and the action. The gruesome bits in this novel didn't make me cringe nearly as much as those in The Road, even though they are similar in nature. Hig's story is much more about grief and loss (and ultimately, healing) than it is about survival. It's almost like the apocalypse was just the most convenient, most fitting, most symbolic setting for the story Heller wanted to tell. I admit, I did choose to read this because of the post-apocalyptic angle - but I ended up liking it for being so much more than that.