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The Boy and the Dog Are Sleeping
Eleven-year-old Awee came to live with Nasdijj, carrying a brown paper bag containing all his belongings, a legacy of abuse, and AIDS. But this beautiful, loving, and intelligent little boy also had enormous hope for his new life. In heartrending prose, Nasdijj writes about their tight-knit, untraditional family—and the precious time they spent together. This searing, poetic memoir will make you cry; yet it is ultimately triumphant, for Awee got what he wanted most in his short a real dad.
- GenresFiction
352 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2003
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 45 reviews
September 26, 2007
i really liked this book before i found out that it is a total fraud. nasdijj is actually some white writer who tried to tap into the market by pretending to be a navajo who adopts a child with aids. its written as a memoir but its just a callous attempt by some fool to make money. it was really disappointing to me cos i bought into it.
August 29, 2015
At this point in my life, I was primed to read a memoir of a non-traditional family struggling to cope with a terminal illness. I was especially open to a book that is emotionally deep and rich, at times lyrical, in which the protagonists decide to make the most of their days by sampling all the beauty and ugliness that our world has to offer. So when I found The Boy and the Dog are Sleeping on the “Native American” shelves of my local used bookstore, I instantly slapped a $10 bill on the checkout counter. When I returned home, I Googled the “Navajo” author. I was crushed to learn that Nasdijj is actually Timothy Barrus, a white social worker who cut his literary teeth writing gay pornography. Although I am posting a review today, I know I will be thinking about this book and my experience as a gullible reader for many months to come.
Written as a memoir, The Boy and the Dog are Sleeping poses as an account of a man of mixed white and Navajo background who adopts Awee, a 12-year-old boy with AIDS and a backstory of emotional and physical abuse. Together, they play baseball, take a motorcycle trip across Texas, volunteer for Head Start, build a hogan, and observe wolves close-up. The bittersweet narrative has all the makings of a movie script, including cinematic moments and poignant dialogue. Unfortunately, most of these scenes are fiction. Native people rightly criticize Barrus for making art of the alcoholism, child abuse, disease, and poverty that is very real in their communities. But this is not the only claim of lived experience he makes. As a person who is providing care to a terminally ill person, I was just as disturbed by Barrus’ account of adopting no fewer than 3 seriously-ill children and his complete commitment to their well-being, when in real life he adopted one child and returned him to the state.
Putting aside my disappointment in the book’s authenticity, I decided to read The Boy and the Dog are Sleeping as the work of fiction it is. I find Barrus highly skilled in describing bleak urban landscapes and unfeeling medical personnel. He captures the emotional truths of living as fully as one can while gradually resigning to an illness: “You did things now. You hugged him now. You did the dishes with him now. You took him places now. You talked late into the night with him now. There was no later safe to store your valuables in” (pg. 19). He also aptly depicts the anger and desperation of family and friends who will do anything – anything – to alleviate the pain of their loved ones: “I want them to leave him alone and I want them to save him. It is a contradiction. Deal with it” (pg. 44). Chasing treatments and relief from clinic to clinic, Barrus taps into the frustration many Americans have with a healthcare system that neither shows empathy nor operates efficiently as a “care system” should. In this regard, the most poignant chapters are “All His Goodbye-Buried Dreams,” where Awee digs graves for plastic soldiers which embody those who have hurt him (pgs. 101-117), “Two Dying Boys Dancing in Pajamas,” where both Awee and an older boy rebel against tyrannical nursing staff (pgs. 145-150), and “That Swallowed Us,” in which father and son spend hours in yet another incompetent clinic (pgs. 213-220).
This said, Nasdijj’s demi-erotic feelings toward his son and the road trip that sometimes seems to reinforce their dependency on each other has much in common with Humbert Humbert’s relationship with Dolores “Lolita” Haze. I first noticed this when reading of father and son smoking marijuana in bed, when Nasdijj states “I wish he would sleep. He is so dangerous. In his underpants.” On the next page, Awee is “seductive” and Nasdijj “hurt with him and me and all the things we could never be. Father and son would have to be enough” (pgs. 79-80). In the “Jack Knife” chapter, we learn that an adolescent Nasdijj was once sexually involved with a priest, and based on that experience he instantly recognizes Awee’s interest in a teenage mechanic named Jack as a similar “ministry” (pg. 129). The boys in fact do fondle each other. Oddly, this physical contact morphs into a chapter ending where father and son are riding naked out of town on their motorcycle, “the dark hard against our balls. His arms around my belly.” Such words and episodes are creepy and unacceptable given Awee’s age and how much the boy depends on adults for his care.
Beyond literary qualities and gut reactions, however, a larger issue is why Ballantine (the publisher), critics, and people like myself were snookered. This is the aspect of The Boy and the Dog are Sleeping that I need to reflect upon much more. Perhaps one of the unintended consequences of raising awareness about reservation pathology is that alcoholism, child abuse, disease, and poverty, have *become* the reservation in the literary imagination. Tellingly, this white man’s tale of a Navajo man and a Navajo boy includes no Native characters that aren’t significantly damaged. Here, grandparents, aunts, uncles, siblings, cousins, and mentors who often serve as inspirational or protective factors in stories written by (real) American Indians make no appearance. Perhaps we too readily expect to read of cigarette burns, drunkenness, and short lives in Native communities -- and we too narrowly define Native heroes as those that transcend them.
Written as a memoir, The Boy and the Dog are Sleeping poses as an account of a man of mixed white and Navajo background who adopts Awee, a 12-year-old boy with AIDS and a backstory of emotional and physical abuse. Together, they play baseball, take a motorcycle trip across Texas, volunteer for Head Start, build a hogan, and observe wolves close-up. The bittersweet narrative has all the makings of a movie script, including cinematic moments and poignant dialogue. Unfortunately, most of these scenes are fiction. Native people rightly criticize Barrus for making art of the alcoholism, child abuse, disease, and poverty that is very real in their communities. But this is not the only claim of lived experience he makes. As a person who is providing care to a terminally ill person, I was just as disturbed by Barrus’ account of adopting no fewer than 3 seriously-ill children and his complete commitment to their well-being, when in real life he adopted one child and returned him to the state.
Putting aside my disappointment in the book’s authenticity, I decided to read The Boy and the Dog are Sleeping as the work of fiction it is. I find Barrus highly skilled in describing bleak urban landscapes and unfeeling medical personnel. He captures the emotional truths of living as fully as one can while gradually resigning to an illness: “You did things now. You hugged him now. You did the dishes with him now. You took him places now. You talked late into the night with him now. There was no later safe to store your valuables in” (pg. 19). He also aptly depicts the anger and desperation of family and friends who will do anything – anything – to alleviate the pain of their loved ones: “I want them to leave him alone and I want them to save him. It is a contradiction. Deal with it” (pg. 44). Chasing treatments and relief from clinic to clinic, Barrus taps into the frustration many Americans have with a healthcare system that neither shows empathy nor operates efficiently as a “care system” should. In this regard, the most poignant chapters are “All His Goodbye-Buried Dreams,” where Awee digs graves for plastic soldiers which embody those who have hurt him (pgs. 101-117), “Two Dying Boys Dancing in Pajamas,” where both Awee and an older boy rebel against tyrannical nursing staff (pgs. 145-150), and “That Swallowed Us,” in which father and son spend hours in yet another incompetent clinic (pgs. 213-220).
This said, Nasdijj’s demi-erotic feelings toward his son and the road trip that sometimes seems to reinforce their dependency on each other has much in common with Humbert Humbert’s relationship with Dolores “Lolita” Haze. I first noticed this when reading of father and son smoking marijuana in bed, when Nasdijj states “I wish he would sleep. He is so dangerous. In his underpants.” On the next page, Awee is “seductive” and Nasdijj “hurt with him and me and all the things we could never be. Father and son would have to be enough” (pgs. 79-80). In the “Jack Knife” chapter, we learn that an adolescent Nasdijj was once sexually involved with a priest, and based on that experience he instantly recognizes Awee’s interest in a teenage mechanic named Jack as a similar “ministry” (pg. 129). The boys in fact do fondle each other. Oddly, this physical contact morphs into a chapter ending where father and son are riding naked out of town on their motorcycle, “the dark hard against our balls. His arms around my belly.” Such words and episodes are creepy and unacceptable given Awee’s age and how much the boy depends on adults for his care.
Beyond literary qualities and gut reactions, however, a larger issue is why Ballantine (the publisher), critics, and people like myself were snookered. This is the aspect of The Boy and the Dog are Sleeping that I need to reflect upon much more. Perhaps one of the unintended consequences of raising awareness about reservation pathology is that alcoholism, child abuse, disease, and poverty, have *become* the reservation in the literary imagination. Tellingly, this white man’s tale of a Navajo man and a Navajo boy includes no Native characters that aren’t significantly damaged. Here, grandparents, aunts, uncles, siblings, cousins, and mentors who often serve as inspirational or protective factors in stories written by (real) American Indians make no appearance. Perhaps we too readily expect to read of cigarette burns, drunkenness, and short lives in Native communities -- and we too narrowly define Native heroes as those that transcend them.
August 20, 2008
I loved this book - the writing, the story, the message until I found out that the author is a fraud - a former porn writer who fabricated the story. Such a disappointment as he is a good writer who could have marketed this as fiction instead of passing it off as a memoir. With that I have to give it zero for fraud.
Read
August 30, 2025I won't rate this book, because the man was a fraud. How do you 'rate' a 'memoir' that seemed great at the time, but turned out to have been completely fabricated? I had to read this book in college in 2005, and I liked it at the time, but "Nasdijj" later turned out to actually be a straight married man named Tim Barrus who wrote gay fetish erotica & was not Native at all. He co-opted a Native American identity for his own profit, and everyone who reads any of his work deserves to know.
December 23, 2025
I try to avoid books about pain and suffering but this book was an exception. I can honestly say I don’t remember where I got it from. I found it among the books I’ve accumulated over the years while working with children and families. They are not a collection of pleasure reading. I don’t know where this book came from but I’m glad it came to me. It has helped me to continue to grow compassion for people. This is not an easy read, but an important one.
August 26, 2018
I was absolutely blown away by this novel. A phenomenally raw story about the many faces of love, sacrifice, and what it means to live when death is imminent. I can't recommend this book enough, it completely changed my perception of storytelling.
November 13, 2018
I fell in love with the book after reading the first page. I finally decided to look at other reviews when I learned that the writer was a fake. Overall the writing style and the story was very beautiful! It would have been a million times better if it was true.
October 19, 2020
I loved this book, but later found out that it was a bunch of lies. It was published as memoir/non-fiction. Learning that the author made it all up really took all the joy out of it for me. It was a great story, but that is all that it was--a made-up story, passed off as true. Very disappointing.
February 16, 2021
Dang. I picked his up at a used bookstore not knowing anything about it and read it cover to cover. Only now do I know of the lies and racist co-opting of the phony white author. I feel even more sad about that now than I did reading the book, which by the way was beautiful.
July 6, 2017
Intensely personal. Deep imagery. The writer's emotions seem to bleed from the pages.
November 14, 2017
Oops! I’ve had this book on my shelf for years and read it a long time ago. This time, after a few hours of reading, I googled the author, as I often do, and found out he made all this up! Ick!
November 24, 2018
I stopped reading it when I found out that the author lied about everything.
January 21, 2020
Depressing. Finished it but only because his chanting style of writing is easy to plow through. On to better books.
Read
February 2, 2021Hard to evaluate a book that is so exploitive.
May 18, 2021
So I gave it 1 star because the story is good. However Nasdijj is an imposter and grew up in Lansing, MI as Tim Barrus.
August 11, 2010
Sigh. Here's another book I won't finish. I knew nothing of Nasdijj. I'm not much for memoirs and haven't followed some of the scandals that have shaken the already shakey publishing word. I picked up the book because I liked the first page --
"I want the mad ones. The children mad enough to struggle and survive. I want the children who have seen war...The children who have had everything taken away from them. The children who are broken and mad enough to attempt to repair themselves. The children mad enough to spit and fight."
And some of the subsequent passages seemed equally as lyrical and heartbreaking. I loved the beautiful Awee. His struggles with AIDS seemed true and fierce.
Yesterday, I finally read up on Nasdijj. Crap, the dude is as white as they come. His biggest claim to fame? Porn novels. His passionate, poetic style? Probably stolen from Sherman Alexie.
I tried to get back into the book this morning, but the connection was broken. The wonderful writing couldn't keep me going. Awee was a lie. His adopted father was a lie. His relationship to his adopted father took on homo-erotic overtones that turned fatherly love into a lie.
Tim Barrus -- the author -- is guilty of the worst kind of cultural appropriation. Like many white men before him, he made up a noble savage that had no basis in truth. I have to wonder why my white soul was so quick to believe in such a falsehood.
Caveat emptor. Next time I won't be easy.
"I want the mad ones. The children mad enough to struggle and survive. I want the children who have seen war...The children who have had everything taken away from them. The children who are broken and mad enough to attempt to repair themselves. The children mad enough to spit and fight."
And some of the subsequent passages seemed equally as lyrical and heartbreaking. I loved the beautiful Awee. His struggles with AIDS seemed true and fierce.
Yesterday, I finally read up on Nasdijj. Crap, the dude is as white as they come. His biggest claim to fame? Porn novels. His passionate, poetic style? Probably stolen from Sherman Alexie.
I tried to get back into the book this morning, but the connection was broken. The wonderful writing couldn't keep me going. Awee was a lie. His adopted father was a lie. His relationship to his adopted father took on homo-erotic overtones that turned fatherly love into a lie.
Tim Barrus -- the author -- is guilty of the worst kind of cultural appropriation. Like many white men before him, he made up a noble savage that had no basis in truth. I have to wonder why my white soul was so quick to believe in such a falsehood.
Caveat emptor. Next time I won't be easy.
August 27, 2007
Hmmm, I was torn between whether I actually liked this or was it simply 'okay'. I have to be honest and say that I have quite mixed emotions about Nasdijj. This was my first of reading him seeing as how I didn't read his much praised debut memoir, and seeing as how this touching and tragic story is also memoir, he seems to have pigeon-holed himself. Parts of this were incredibly endearing and tender. Parts of it were rather heartbreaking. And parts of it were rather infuriating. Is it good writing? Eh, at times his lyrical prose is exceptional. The sad, sad narrative drags on way too long as the inevitable is obvious from the start of the book. And there are times when the stroy is told with such an arrogance that you can nary muster any kind of empathy for a distraught soul trying to make peace in a world that they do not particularly like.
August 28, 2007
Hmmm, I was torn between whether I actually liked this or was it simply 'okay'. I have to be honest and say that I have quite mixed emotions about Nasdijj. This was my first reading of him seeing as how I didn't read his much praised debut memoir, and seeing as how this touching and tragic story is also memoir, he seems to have pigeon-holed himself. Parts of this were incredibly endearing and tender. Parts of it were rather heartbreaking. And parts of it were rather infuriating. Is it good writing? Eh, at times his lyrical prose is exceptional. The sad, sad narrative drags on way too long as the inevitable is obvious from the start of the book. And there are times when the story is told with such an arrogance that you can nary muster any kind of empathy for a distraught soul trying to make peace in a world that they do not particularly like...
June 1, 2010
Yes, it was a fraud. He used to write gay porn, and decided to start writing "memoirs" of being many things he is not, like Native American and the child of migrant workers. I appreciate that it is offensive to many people that he did this. But I thoroughly enjoyed all of them, and thought that he did in fact have stories to tell that were perhaps best told this way. If he had presented them as what they are, as fiction, what would have been the reaction? Not good, I expect, for the same reasons - he has apparently preempted the stories of people more marginalized than himself. This way he got to pull the wool over the eyes of the publishing industry, prank the literary world, and demonstrate his skill in doing so. It was quite successful, you realize. He got away with it for some time. I have to respect such a prankster, and the books, particularly this one, are wonderful.
December 29, 2020
I went into this knowing it was a fabrication.
At first I thought that that and the absolutely needless and disgusting sexualisation of an 11-year-old boy were a shame, because I enjoyed the writing style in itself. But I quickly grew sick of that too, especially the rhymes at the end of each chapter. When the author (I forget his real name) uses them to try to make a profound point it only cheapens the effect. The very last chapter might be an exception to that - but he still spoils it with the pithy last paragraph.
I knew I shouldn't have bothered, and I don't know why I did.
At first I thought that that and the absolutely needless and disgusting sexualisation of an 11-year-old boy were a shame, because I enjoyed the writing style in itself. But I quickly grew sick of that too, especially the rhymes at the end of each chapter. When the author (I forget his real name) uses them to try to make a profound point it only cheapens the effect. The very last chapter might be an exception to that - but he still spoils it with the pithy last paragraph.
I knew I shouldn't have bothered, and I don't know why I did.
February 16, 2015
I had to read this for med school. I remember finding him creepy and feeling a little sad I was so cynical. And then the author was revealed as a hoax, right around the same time James Frey was imploding into a million little pieces, JT Leroy was revealed as a middle-aged woman, that genius kid had her book ghostwritten, etc... So yeah, Nasdijj is really a creepy lying liar white dude who made it all up, all the while stealing Navajo cultural tradition.
August 20, 2016
I really liked the beginning of this book, being Hispanic, I was seeking to have a better perspective into what it is like to be Native American. This book tells a great story but after the first chapter, I was struggling to want to continue reading. The writing is so broken, it is like a long poem. The author isn't even Native American, just pretending to be. I couldn't finish the book, the connection was lost.
March 20, 2008
I liked this book, but then found out it joined the masses of fake memoirs. "Nasdijj" is a white guy from the Midwest and sources say not of any Native American decent. The report I read also stated that while this man (and I think his wife) did in fact adopt a sick boy, he didn't have AIDS and they ended up surrendering him back to the state. So disappointing!
November 23, 2009
The book is beautifully written and, despite it's difficult subject matter, is kind of inspiring. Unfortunately, it's not true. Nasdijj doesn't exist, but is the pseudonym of author Tim Barrus. Having read it as a memoir, I'm now feeling kind of cheated. This makes the world we live in, not the characters in the story, a little less beautiful.
June 13, 2011
This will forever be listed as one of my favorite books.
I cried through most of this book. Awee's illness is one that I had never read anything about. It opened my eyes to what people with AIDS suffer through. Especially the children.
What an inspiring and heart-wrenching novel. I can't wait to read more by Nasdijj.
I cried through most of this book. Awee's illness is one that I had never read anything about. It opened my eyes to what people with AIDS suffer through. Especially the children.
What an inspiring and heart-wrenching novel. I can't wait to read more by Nasdijj.
February 22, 2015
I didn't know what I was getting into when I bought this book from Logo's, my old favorite used bookstore in Santa Cruz, California. I thought it was about a Native man adopting a Native boy. But it's about desperate need, inexplicable ability to care for someone against all odds, and a voice so honest it pierces my heart and shocks me into a whole new perspective.
October 1, 2009
When I read this one, it was a "memoir," but it turned out to be fiction. I think it is a great story, even as fiction. It has stayed with me, years after I closed the book. If I had known it was fiction, I think I would have liked it more as I read it.
January 23, 2016
I was angry when i realized who the author really is but i still consider the book to be a great work of fiction. it was a really good book, i just wish the author had made it known that is was fiction instead of claiming to be someone he's not.
October 8, 2013
really more of an experience than it is a book. i don't have words for how beautiful this poetry is. the last chapter is at the same the best and worst thing that i've ever read (best writing, saddest story). i read and re-read the lines over and over due to the tears. wonderful
December 8, 2014
One of my favorite books of all time. It is a story about a man who adopts a boy who is going through a lot of medical issues. It's super interesting and has compelling characters, thus I loved it.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 45 reviews