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Dog Boy
A vivid, riveting novel about an abandoned boy who takes up with a pack of feral dogs
Two million children roam the streets in late twentieth-century Moscow. A four-year-old boy named Romochka, abandoned by his mother and uncle, is left to fend for himself. Curious, he follows a stray dog to its home in an abandoned church cellar on the city's outskirts. Romochka makes himself at home with Mamochka, the mother of the pack, and six other dogs as he slowly abandons his human attributes to survive two fiercely cold winters. Able to pass as either boy or dog, Romochka develops his own moral code. As the pack starts to prey on people for food with Romochka's help, he attracts the attention of local police and scientists. His future, and the pack's, will depend on his ability to remain free, but the outside world begins to close in on him as the novel reaches its gripping conclusion.
In this taut and emotionally convincing narrative, Eva Hornung explores universal themes of the human the importance of home, what it means to belong to a family, the consequences of exclusion, and what our animal nature can teach us about survival.
Two million children roam the streets in late twentieth-century Moscow. A four-year-old boy named Romochka, abandoned by his mother and uncle, is left to fend for himself. Curious, he follows a stray dog to its home in an abandoned church cellar on the city's outskirts. Romochka makes himself at home with Mamochka, the mother of the pack, and six other dogs as he slowly abandons his human attributes to survive two fiercely cold winters. Able to pass as either boy or dog, Romochka develops his own moral code. As the pack starts to prey on people for food with Romochka's help, he attracts the attention of local police and scientists. His future, and the pack's, will depend on his ability to remain free, but the outside world begins to close in on him as the novel reaches its gripping conclusion.
In this taut and emotionally convincing narrative, Eva Hornung explores universal themes of the human the importance of home, what it means to belong to a family, the consequences of exclusion, and what our animal nature can teach us about survival.
304 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2009
61 people are currently reading
3903 people want to read
About the author
Eva Hornung
8 books34 followersaka Eva Sallis
is an Australian novelist. Eva Hornung was born 1964 in Bendigo. She has an MA in literature and a PhD in comparative literature from the University of Adelaide. Sallis lived in Yemen while undertaking research for her PhD, and now lives and works in Adelaide.
Hornung's first novel, the best-selling "Hiam", won the 1997 The Australian/Vogel Literary Award and the 1999 Nita May Dobbie Literary Award. Her second novel City of Sealions was well received, and her novel-in-stories, Mahjar won the Steele Rudd Award. Her 2005 book Fire Fire, told the story of gifted children growing up in a dysfunctional, loving family in 1970s Australia. Her 2009 novel Dog Boy won the 2010 Australian Prime Minister's Literary Award for fiction. She is a human rights activist, helping to found the organisation Australians Against Racism
is an Australian novelist. Eva Hornung was born 1964 in Bendigo. She has an MA in literature and a PhD in comparative literature from the University of Adelaide. Sallis lived in Yemen while undertaking research for her PhD, and now lives and works in Adelaide.
Hornung's first novel, the best-selling "Hiam", won the 1997 The Australian/Vogel Literary Award and the 1999 Nita May Dobbie Literary Award. Her second novel City of Sealions was well received, and her novel-in-stories, Mahjar won the Steele Rudd Award. Her 2005 book Fire Fire, told the story of gifted children growing up in a dysfunctional, loving family in 1970s Australia. Her 2009 novel Dog Boy won the 2010 Australian Prime Minister's Literary Award for fiction. She is a human rights activist, helping to found the organisation Australians Against Racism
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February 24, 2013
Romochka is four years old when his mother and uncle never return home to their small apartment building in an outer suburb of Moscow, leaving the little boy to fend for himself. While his mother had always told him not to leave the apartment or the building, hunger and cold soon drives Romochka out to explore. He discovers that the entire building has been abandoned. Everyone has gone. The power is off. The phones are dead. All he has are some clothes and his blanket.
Outside, he ventures farther from his building than he's ever been before, and starts to follow a beautiful stray dog down the alleys. The dog, a female clan leader, takes the small boy to her den in the basement of a decrepit old church. There he lives in the nest with her four puppies, and begins his life as a dog.
There are seven dogs when he first arrives: the mother and leader, Mamochka (a Russian nickname meaning tender or sweet Mother); her two older offspring, Black Dog and Golden Bitch; and the four puppies: White Sister, Black Sister, Grey Brother and Brown Brother. Romochka becomes a member of their clan, sleeping and eating with them, hunting for food - first in the huge tip that forms a mountain nearby, picked over by human and animal scavengers alike - and later farther in the city, using his humanness to get them food in ways they couldn't before his arrival. He thinks more like a dog than a human, but since he was four when he came to them, he retains a mix of confusing and complicated desires and human instincts.
Romochka becomes ever wilder as the years go by; as an eight-year-old, he is something of a terror, infamous in the poverty-stricken area that the clan considers its territory. The militzia are a constant threat, as are the gangs of kids who hang out in abandoned warehouses before returning to their real homes and families. Romochka develops a bit of a reputation, and the possibility of discovering a real, genuine "dog boy" is tantalising to the psychiatrists who work with orphans.
I almost don't know what to say about this book. It's powerful and thought-provoking, tragic and wise. It speaks so loudly and clearly and beautifully for itself, what is left for me to say but Read It? I don't understand why is hasn't won more awards - it won the Prime Minister's Literary Award in 2010, but for a work of this scope and depth and sheer literary talent, I can't imagine why the Miles Franklin and Booker etc. didn't come knocking, too.
Dog Boy is an extraordinary work, a novel that is deeply moving for its profound insight into what it means to be human, as well as its compassionate, honest and realistic portrayal of a clan of dogs. I don't know all that much about dog behaviour - I'm a cat person, myself - but this had such a ring of truth and openness to it that I can well believe that this is exactly the way dogs behave when not pets or working dogs or feral. The dogs of Romochka's clan may not be able to speak, but their personalities come across loud and clear. I have to say how impressed I am with how Hornung managed to avoid anthropomorphising the dogs; while we can relate, empathise and understand their behaviours, and there are similarities across animal species of which human beings share, the dogs remain dogs.
And that's where it gets interesting. What exactly is Romochka, then? Things get even more interesting - and upsetting, for me anyway - with the arrival of Puppy. I don't want to share the details with you because I don't want to give things away, but my heart broke when Puppy came. I couldn't stop worrying over the question, Stolen or saved from abandonment? This is Russia, this is Moscow, this is the poorest of the poor and Romochka had already seen a baby, frozen, discarded in a dumpster. It's hard enough to read about this four year old who's just been left, forgotten, by his only family, let alone reading about Puppy. Especially now I have a child of my own.
The story is like no other story I've read that is told from the perspective of animals, or near enough. It is not like the Silver Brumby books. It is certainly no Charlotte's Web or any other children's book told from the point of view of an animal. In fact, this is no children's book at all. It's dense, descriptive, questioning, wondering and brutally honest. Beneath it all lies layers of philosophical thought, the riddle of human nature, and a hard poke at what separates us from other animals - or at what we think separates us. In one of the few descriptions of Romochka, we get to see him as others do, as something not human, but not precisely animal either: a figure from folklore, from legend, from superstition and nightmare.
Romochka is usually portrayed as separate from humans, but he is not entirely dog either - certainly not the way he wishes he were. He was too old when he came to them, too old to be able to develop a better sense of smell or eyesight. Too old to learn to walk on four legs. But with his human ingenuity, he learns ways to overcome these failings, and to use the strengths that come with being human. This is contrasted sharply with Puppy, as you will see. Yet you can never quite forget that he is just a child, a child abandoned by his family, one who still harbours a deep need for a mother's love, for the things other little boys get to play with. He possesses a child's curiosity for the world, and a child's understanding of it. But no matter how childlike he can sometimes be, these human parts of him are tangled up with the parts of him that are dog, giving him a unique perspective and a slightly off understanding. An almost naive innocence. A doglike innocence.
The world of dogs is a vastly different one to our own, and Hornung captures it seemingly effortlessly. Most noticeably, it is a world of scents that tell of many things, many truths, otherwise hidden. The way Romochka sees the two doctors, Dmitry and Natalya, speaks to this:
Another reviewer called Hornung's prose in Dog Boy "earthy" and I would have to agree. It is exactly the word I was looking for and couldn't think of. It is earthy in a literal as well as a figurative sense: dirt is everywhere in this book. It coats Romochka like a second skin, but it's also present in the city wherever he goes. When he finds himself in a more wealthy, immaculate part of the city, the absence of dirt is profound, and he quickly seeks out a park and its dirt. But it is earthy in the sense that Romochka symbolises a kind of return to the earth, or a return to more "primitive" days, a more animal sense of what it means to be human. Because, take away all the trappings of civilisation and advancement and progress, and you are left with the essential elements of humanness. Does Romochka still possess these basic qualities? And if he does, are they human or dog qualities? The real question being: Are not the things we think of as essentially human, actually essentially animal?
As I mentioned, this is a profoundly thought-provoking novel, but it is also one of deep compassion and empathy. It is emotional without ever being emotional - not melodramatic, not sensationalist, not self-indulgent, not weepy or cloying or manipulative. None of the things that I detest most about "sensitive" or tragic books. Hornung engages all your senses and every dark secret corner of your heart as well. Nothing is left untouched. And so when I reached the ending, I found myself surprised and unsure. Was this what I would have wanted for Romochka? Is this the ending that was most realistic, in keeping with the rest of the novel? What does this say about Romochka's journey so far? What meaning does it add to his life? What does it say in regards to the themes the book has been dealing with so far? I was definitely unsure, and in a way, that's the best kind of ending.
It is not straight-forward, because while the ending brings about the one thing that the human, the parent in you would wish for most for Romochka, it comes with such a price, such an awful price, that you're no longer sure it's the right thing, you're no longer sure that the human way is the best way, and you're definitely not sure that you have the right to decide that for Romochka. So does it have a happy ending? It is not so clear-cut as that, and in literary terms, it serves Hornung's aims well. To keep us thinking. To not let us presume, or assume. To not take the easy way out so we don't have to deal with any consequences or aftermath or to just shrug and say, yep, that's the way life goes, and move on, forgetting the whole ordeal. There is no way you can forget Romochka or his life. It's been two weeks since I finished reading it and I'm still wondering about him, how he's doing, what life could possibly be like for him now. And unable to say whether his life with the dogs was a bad one, a good one, or simply a difficult one. What it was was a loving, caring, protective, loyal one, and isn't that what we value most in all families? Isn't that what makes an ideal family?
Outside, he ventures farther from his building than he's ever been before, and starts to follow a beautiful stray dog down the alleys. The dog, a female clan leader, takes the small boy to her den in the basement of a decrepit old church. There he lives in the nest with her four puppies, and begins his life as a dog.
There are seven dogs when he first arrives: the mother and leader, Mamochka (a Russian nickname meaning tender or sweet Mother); her two older offspring, Black Dog and Golden Bitch; and the four puppies: White Sister, Black Sister, Grey Brother and Brown Brother. Romochka becomes a member of their clan, sleeping and eating with them, hunting for food - first in the huge tip that forms a mountain nearby, picked over by human and animal scavengers alike - and later farther in the city, using his humanness to get them food in ways they couldn't before his arrival. He thinks more like a dog than a human, but since he was four when he came to them, he retains a mix of confusing and complicated desires and human instincts.
Romochka becomes ever wilder as the years go by; as an eight-year-old, he is something of a terror, infamous in the poverty-stricken area that the clan considers its territory. The militzia are a constant threat, as are the gangs of kids who hang out in abandoned warehouses before returning to their real homes and families. Romochka develops a bit of a reputation, and the possibility of discovering a real, genuine "dog boy" is tantalising to the psychiatrists who work with orphans.
I almost don't know what to say about this book. It's powerful and thought-provoking, tragic and wise. It speaks so loudly and clearly and beautifully for itself, what is left for me to say but Read It? I don't understand why is hasn't won more awards - it won the Prime Minister's Literary Award in 2010, but for a work of this scope and depth and sheer literary talent, I can't imagine why the Miles Franklin and Booker etc. didn't come knocking, too.
Dog Boy is an extraordinary work, a novel that is deeply moving for its profound insight into what it means to be human, as well as its compassionate, honest and realistic portrayal of a clan of dogs. I don't know all that much about dog behaviour - I'm a cat person, myself - but this had such a ring of truth and openness to it that I can well believe that this is exactly the way dogs behave when not pets or working dogs or feral. The dogs of Romochka's clan may not be able to speak, but their personalities come across loud and clear. I have to say how impressed I am with how Hornung managed to avoid anthropomorphising the dogs; while we can relate, empathise and understand their behaviours, and there are similarities across animal species of which human beings share, the dogs remain dogs.
And that's where it gets interesting. What exactly is Romochka, then? Things get even more interesting - and upsetting, for me anyway - with the arrival of Puppy. I don't want to share the details with you because I don't want to give things away, but my heart broke when Puppy came. I couldn't stop worrying over the question, Stolen or saved from abandonment? This is Russia, this is Moscow, this is the poorest of the poor and Romochka had already seen a baby, frozen, discarded in a dumpster. It's hard enough to read about this four year old who's just been left, forgotten, by his only family, let alone reading about Puppy. Especially now I have a child of my own.
The story is like no other story I've read that is told from the perspective of animals, or near enough. It is not like the Silver Brumby books. It is certainly no Charlotte's Web or any other children's book told from the point of view of an animal. In fact, this is no children's book at all. It's dense, descriptive, questioning, wondering and brutally honest. Beneath it all lies layers of philosophical thought, the riddle of human nature, and a hard poke at what separates us from other animals - or at what we think separates us. In one of the few descriptions of Romochka, we get to see him as others do, as something not human, but not precisely animal either: a figure from folklore, from legend, from superstition and nightmare.
The residents of the rubbish mountain and the forest know him and leave him well alone, even go to great lengths to avoid him. What stands out at first sight is his mane of matted black hair. It sweeps back from his brow in a tangled ropey mass that reaches the middle of his back. He is, like everyone here, filthy and dressed in several layers of motley clothes and rags. He is uncommonly healthy for a child of this place, his body straight and wiry. His physique is harder and more agile than that of any normal child. He is more dexterous and twists through his spine more quickly than humans ever do. He swings the rough club in his right hand with easy proficiency. He is almost silent, except for the snarls that can rattle through his nose and teeth.
[...]
People avoid him because he is never alone.
It is whispered that his dogs can appear from nowhere and there are more than twenty of them. They are bigger and stronger than normal dogs. His own long, sharpened fingernails have the strength of wolves' claws. He is a demon, some say, who eats the flesh of humans and wanders alone in the form of a child to tempt people near. Others say he is a genetic mutant escaped from top-secret laboratories. Even the sceptics are, nonetheless, aware that he is dangerous. A ripple spreads across the mountain and forest at the sight of him. People wedge their shanty doors shut and watch him through cracks.
Their own dogs bristle and growl uneasily, snuffing the air as he passes. That dogs fear him adds immeasurably to his reputation. [pp.80-81]
Romochka is usually portrayed as separate from humans, but he is not entirely dog either - certainly not the way he wishes he were. He was too old when he came to them, too old to be able to develop a better sense of smell or eyesight. Too old to learn to walk on four legs. But with his human ingenuity, he learns ways to overcome these failings, and to use the strengths that come with being human. This is contrasted sharply with Puppy, as you will see. Yet you can never quite forget that he is just a child, a child abandoned by his family, one who still harbours a deep need for a mother's love, for the things other little boys get to play with. He possesses a child's curiosity for the world, and a child's understanding of it. But no matter how childlike he can sometimes be, these human parts of him are tangled up with the parts of him that are dog, giving him a unique perspective and a slightly off understanding. An almost naive innocence. A doglike innocence.
The world of dogs is a vastly different one to our own, and Hornung captures it seemingly effortlessly. Most noticeably, it is a world of scents that tell of many things, many truths, otherwise hidden. The way Romochka sees the two doctors, Dmitry and Natalya, speaks to this:
Dmitry didn't know everything but was trying to find out so he could help Puppy. Romochka found that dry voice, telling him these dry truths, comforting, but most of all, he liked Dmitry's smell.
He watched Dmitry and Natalya, noting the kisses and endearments; and the fights. Dmitry, Romochka knew, was most interested in Puppy. But to his huge gratification, he began to notice that Natalya was more interested in him. He frowned whenever she came near him. He imagined pulling her long brown hair. She smelled of slightly rotten flowers, of Dmitry, hair, soap and girl sweat. He could smell her vulva, too - spring mud and cut grass; so different from the musk and pungent anus smell of full-grown men. Very different from the cosy, sweet smell of Mamochka. He kicked chairs over and tried to bend or break things when she came near in order to show her how strong he was. He began to perform the boy most of all for Natalya. Her body-smell seeped into his dreams. [p.220]
Another reviewer called Hornung's prose in Dog Boy "earthy" and I would have to agree. It is exactly the word I was looking for and couldn't think of. It is earthy in a literal as well as a figurative sense: dirt is everywhere in this book. It coats Romochka like a second skin, but it's also present in the city wherever he goes. When he finds himself in a more wealthy, immaculate part of the city, the absence of dirt is profound, and he quickly seeks out a park and its dirt. But it is earthy in the sense that Romochka symbolises a kind of return to the earth, or a return to more "primitive" days, a more animal sense of what it means to be human. Because, take away all the trappings of civilisation and advancement and progress, and you are left with the essential elements of humanness. Does Romochka still possess these basic qualities? And if he does, are they human or dog qualities? The real question being: Are not the things we think of as essentially human, actually essentially animal?
As I mentioned, this is a profoundly thought-provoking novel, but it is also one of deep compassion and empathy. It is emotional without ever being emotional - not melodramatic, not sensationalist, not self-indulgent, not weepy or cloying or manipulative. None of the things that I detest most about "sensitive" or tragic books. Hornung engages all your senses and every dark secret corner of your heart as well. Nothing is left untouched. And so when I reached the ending, I found myself surprised and unsure. Was this what I would have wanted for Romochka? Is this the ending that was most realistic, in keeping with the rest of the novel? What does this say about Romochka's journey so far? What meaning does it add to his life? What does it say in regards to the themes the book has been dealing with so far? I was definitely unsure, and in a way, that's the best kind of ending.
It is not straight-forward, because while the ending brings about the one thing that the human, the parent in you would wish for most for Romochka, it comes with such a price, such an awful price, that you're no longer sure it's the right thing, you're no longer sure that the human way is the best way, and you're definitely not sure that you have the right to decide that for Romochka. So does it have a happy ending? It is not so clear-cut as that, and in literary terms, it serves Hornung's aims well. To keep us thinking. To not let us presume, or assume. To not take the easy way out so we don't have to deal with any consequences or aftermath or to just shrug and say, yep, that's the way life goes, and move on, forgetting the whole ordeal. There is no way you can forget Romochka or his life. It's been two weeks since I finished reading it and I'm still wondering about him, how he's doing, what life could possibly be like for him now. And unable to say whether his life with the dogs was a bad one, a good one, or simply a difficult one. What it was was a loving, caring, protective, loyal one, and isn't that what we value most in all families? Isn't that what makes an ideal family?
February 27, 2011
Let me say first that I understand that others will rate this book higher than I...and believe me I'm very close to going all the way to a 1 star rating. NOT because the book isn't well written, it is, and Not because it has nothing to say, because it does...thus a 2 star rating. The low rating is because (as I've said for other books) I've lived pain in my life and "mostly" I don't need it in my literature.
There is a book that I rated 5 stars that concerns a very painful experience and the loss of a dog (this book isn't per se about the "loss of a dog" but it is about loss, pain, dogs and a child [children?]). That book ( Julius Winsome: A Novel ) spoke to me, this didn't. That one touched me in a special way, this one didn't.
On the other hand this book literally oozes angst, pain, loneliness and as I said, loss. I felt pain enough that I pulled away from it and built a wall.
And I truly hate the ending.
Just me. A friend recommended it and I'm sure she likes it, so I'd say be aware what you're starting and then decide for yourself. As I said, it's well written, but as in (for example) Of Mice and Men that can just add to the pain in the end. To each their own this one you'll need to consider. I don't like it and won't return. To some you may find some insight here I suppose, but it's insight I've already gotten from life. There are mental pictures here I don't want. Having said that, the book may stay with you, in my case that's what I'm afraid of.
There is a book that I rated 5 stars that concerns a very painful experience and the loss of a dog (this book isn't per se about the "loss of a dog" but it is about loss, pain, dogs and a child [children?]). That book ( Julius Winsome: A Novel ) spoke to me, this didn't. That one touched me in a special way, this one didn't.
On the other hand this book literally oozes angst, pain, loneliness and as I said, loss. I felt pain enough that I pulled away from it and built a wall.
And I truly hate the ending.
Just me. A friend recommended it and I'm sure she likes it, so I'd say be aware what you're starting and then decide for yourself. As I said, it's well written, but as in (for example) Of Mice and Men that can just add to the pain in the end. To each their own this one you'll need to consider. I don't like it and won't return. To some you may find some insight here I suppose, but it's insight I've already gotten from life. There are mental pictures here I don't want. Having said that, the book may stay with you, in my case that's what I'm afraid of.
April 19, 2010
I won this through the first reads program here at Goodreads. My first win!
Romochka is a four year old boy who wakes up one morning to find his mother and uncle, along with everyone in his apartment building, gone. After a few days he ventures outside into the cold unforgiving streets of Moscow. The author doesn’t explain where everyone has gone as the story is told from the abandoned child’s perspective but my guess is desperation. The setting appears to be a war torn country.
Cold, hungry and scared he spies a large dog and knows her belly will be warm from prior experience so he follows her. Thus begins his integration into her pack. Mamochka, her brothers and her young puppies become Romochka’s new family and it isn’t long before he becomes more dog-like in mannerism than human. The dogs are feral and every day is a struggle for survival, hunting food and eating it raw, cleaning their wounds with only their tongues, marking territory and avoiding other stray packs of dogs in order to make it another day.
This story was a gripping and gory, if not always believable, account about what it might be like if a pack of feral dogs accepted a human toddler into their midst. Their habits and their love and protection for each other and the human boy were fascinating and heartbreaking and excellently portrayed. There isn’t very much dialogue for most of the book and as a result the story seemed even more intimate to me because we feel everything the dogs and boy experience. Parts seemed a bit too far fetched for me and at times Romochka seemed wise and physically capable beyond his years but who really knows what a young human with strong survival instincts is capable of when left out in the wild this way?
I must admit I was more entranced by the first half where the boys’ life becomes integrated with that of the dogs. The latter half where humans interfere broke my heart and the book then lost some of its appeal.
This is a book I’d recommend reading if you’re interesting in dogs as much as I am and/or enjoy a strong survival story with a unique take on things.
Romochka is a four year old boy who wakes up one morning to find his mother and uncle, along with everyone in his apartment building, gone. After a few days he ventures outside into the cold unforgiving streets of Moscow. The author doesn’t explain where everyone has gone as the story is told from the abandoned child’s perspective but my guess is desperation. The setting appears to be a war torn country.
Cold, hungry and scared he spies a large dog and knows her belly will be warm from prior experience so he follows her. Thus begins his integration into her pack. Mamochka, her brothers and her young puppies become Romochka’s new family and it isn’t long before he becomes more dog-like in mannerism than human. The dogs are feral and every day is a struggle for survival, hunting food and eating it raw, cleaning their wounds with only their tongues, marking territory and avoiding other stray packs of dogs in order to make it another day.
This story was a gripping and gory, if not always believable, account about what it might be like if a pack of feral dogs accepted a human toddler into their midst. Their habits and their love and protection for each other and the human boy were fascinating and heartbreaking and excellently portrayed. There isn’t very much dialogue for most of the book and as a result the story seemed even more intimate to me because we feel everything the dogs and boy experience. Parts seemed a bit too far fetched for me and at times Romochka seemed wise and physically capable beyond his years but who really knows what a young human with strong survival instincts is capable of when left out in the wild this way?
I must admit I was more entranced by the first half where the boys’ life becomes integrated with that of the dogs. The latter half where humans interfere broke my heart and the book then lost some of its appeal.
This is a book I’d recommend reading if you’re interesting in dogs as much as I am and/or enjoy a strong survival story with a unique take on things.
October 13, 2009
I have never read a book quite like this in my life. It is both sad, thought evoking, gruesome, horrifying, and educational at once. It will not be for everyone. You must have a very strong interest in dogs in general, dog/human relationships, or pack mentality as well as a very strong stomach to enjoy this novel.
It is about a four year old boy that has been abandoned by both his mother and a drunk, possibly abusive uncle. Finding no kindhearted humans on the Russian streets willing or interested to care for him, he takes up with a pack of feral dogs. He lives with them thru season after season, turning into years. He begins to think he is a dog. Thru his eyes we see the behavior of dogs in their lairs, learn about the pack mentality, and how they work together to survive. Much of dog behavior is explained. Do not, however, under any circumstances, read this while eating. It gets gross. The boy eats raw rats, pees on frozen food in order to eat it, and I almost lost my midnight snack of cheese and crackers when he puts his hands into a bird carcass and pulls out the heart to eat it. Funny, there was no mention of sickness, worms, or the internal parasites that tend to go hand in hand with the eating of raw meat..
For at least two years, Romochka survives this way. At some point, the "mom" dog brings into the lair a diapered baby and this baby grows up as a dog too. (I found this just a bit preposterous.) It is inevitable that humans are going to notice at this point. However, most of the human attention Romochka and his pack recieve is not of the good kind. When two "do good" doctors take in the baby tho, Romochka begins to live in two worlds. In one he is a boy. In one he is a dog. What will be his ultimate choice?
The ending felt more appropriate for a horror story, but you judge for yourself. Four stars for complete uniqueness, but not five due to the gruesome details I branded as "T.M.I" (Too Much Information)and also, the when the doctors came into the picture in the last quarter, I found their characters dull.
Surprisingly, I enjoyed this. Would I read it again? No, but I won't forget it either.
It is about a four year old boy that has been abandoned by both his mother and a drunk, possibly abusive uncle. Finding no kindhearted humans on the Russian streets willing or interested to care for him, he takes up with a pack of feral dogs. He lives with them thru season after season, turning into years. He begins to think he is a dog. Thru his eyes we see the behavior of dogs in their lairs, learn about the pack mentality, and how they work together to survive. Much of dog behavior is explained. Do not, however, under any circumstances, read this while eating. It gets gross. The boy eats raw rats, pees on frozen food in order to eat it, and I almost lost my midnight snack of cheese and crackers when he puts his hands into a bird carcass and pulls out the heart to eat it. Funny, there was no mention of sickness, worms, or the internal parasites that tend to go hand in hand with the eating of raw meat..
For at least two years, Romochka survives this way. At some point, the "mom" dog brings into the lair a diapered baby and this baby grows up as a dog too. (I found this just a bit preposterous.) It is inevitable that humans are going to notice at this point. However, most of the human attention Romochka and his pack recieve is not of the good kind. When two "do good" doctors take in the baby tho, Romochka begins to live in two worlds. In one he is a boy. In one he is a dog. What will be his ultimate choice?
The ending felt more appropriate for a horror story, but you judge for yourself. Four stars for complete uniqueness, but not five due to the gruesome details I branded as "T.M.I" (Too Much Information)and also, the when the doctors came into the picture in the last quarter, I found their characters dull.
Surprisingly, I enjoyed this. Would I read it again? No, but I won't forget it either.
December 19, 2014
Review for the Australian Women Writers Challenge 2012
This story is about an abandoned 4 year old boy Romochka, left hungry and cold in an apartment in Moscow. After a few days alone, Romochka is unable to tolerate the hunger any longer, and he sets out into the street on Moscow in search of food. On the street he sees a pack of feral dogs where he became curious and slowly approaches them. The mother of the pack is welcoming and lures Romachka into an abandoned warehouse where his is warm, fed and dry. But the longer Romachka stays with the pack, he starts to develop attributes similar to his canine companions.
I had a very difficult time getting though the start of the book, as the writer doesn’t hold anything back. She goes into explicit and gory detail of their survival techniques; the constant licking of pus and blood from their wounds, the hunting and what they were eating. It became unbearable to stomach at times but something kept me going. The turning point I think was when Romachka ventured out to the city. I soon realised that these dogs weren’t the repulsive one here; they guarded and protected him, they were loyal and caring and they showed Romachka the only way they knew how to survive. It was the humans in the story that truly disgusted me. I won’t go into details of what did to Romachka but all I can say it was utterly devastating and distressful to read. And by the end of the book, I highly respected the pack of dogs.
I have to admit, it certainly wasn’t an easy read initially, but towards the end I really liked it and thought it was original. It’s hard for me to recommend this book to everyone, as I don’t know if it will appeal to all taste - so I’ll leave it up to you to decide.
This story is about an abandoned 4 year old boy Romochka, left hungry and cold in an apartment in Moscow. After a few days alone, Romochka is unable to tolerate the hunger any longer, and he sets out into the street on Moscow in search of food. On the street he sees a pack of feral dogs where he became curious and slowly approaches them. The mother of the pack is welcoming and lures Romachka into an abandoned warehouse where his is warm, fed and dry. But the longer Romachka stays with the pack, he starts to develop attributes similar to his canine companions.
I had a very difficult time getting though the start of the book, as the writer doesn’t hold anything back. She goes into explicit and gory detail of their survival techniques; the constant licking of pus and blood from their wounds, the hunting and what they were eating. It became unbearable to stomach at times but something kept me going. The turning point I think was when Romachka ventured out to the city. I soon realised that these dogs weren’t the repulsive one here; they guarded and protected him, they were loyal and caring and they showed Romachka the only way they knew how to survive. It was the humans in the story that truly disgusted me. I won’t go into details of what did to Romachka but all I can say it was utterly devastating and distressful to read. And by the end of the book, I highly respected the pack of dogs.
I have to admit, it certainly wasn’t an easy read initially, but towards the end I really liked it and thought it was original. It’s hard for me to recommend this book to everyone, as I don’t know if it will appeal to all taste - so I’ll leave it up to you to decide.
February 17, 2012
Every now and then a book comes along that you know will change your life. You may not know how, exactly, but the reading of it touches you in a way so profound, resonates so deeply inside you, that you recognize at once it will become part of your “soul”, for want of a better word, part of your being.
Eva Hornung’s Dog Boy is such a book for me.
See my discussion here.
Eva Hornung’s Dog Boy is such a book for me.
See my discussion here.
February 16, 2020
5*
Despite feeling super on edge about my own humanity and having to face my inner animal, I cannot give this book less than 5 stars.
It's the kind of read that leaves you wanting nothing more than to close the book and stop reading only to open it again and continue. It's rare that I am this conflicted about enjoying a book.
The ending reminds me a lot of Chinua Achebe's "Things Fall Apart" in that with a single sentence, it flipped my entire perception of the story.
Despite feeling super on edge about my own humanity and having to face my inner animal, I cannot give this book less than 5 stars.
It's the kind of read that leaves you wanting nothing more than to close the book and stop reading only to open it again and continue. It's rare that I am this conflicted about enjoying a book.
The ending reminds me a lot of Chinua Achebe's "Things Fall Apart" in that with a single sentence, it flipped my entire perception of the story.
July 3, 2010
This book is an intelligent page turner and written in the influence of Jungle book and maybe loosely based on a true story of a Russian/Soviet child? Anyway no matter this story will pull you along. Our main character is a throwaway child from a collapsed society and the story begins as he befriends a stray dog who raises him with her puppies. I almost put the book down in the first segment where our protagonist is adapting with the dogs but I'm glad I didn't. After that one very small slow part, I couldn't put it down. He starts to grow as a human and of course as a member of the pack and leads the pack through misadventures/situations. This is one of those books that will make you stay up through the wee hours of the morning, even if you MUST get up and go to work the next day. The author really did her research even in her description of the dogs riding on subways. When I read that in the book it was fun as part of the story but incredulous. But I was surprised when I looked it up, there are actually articles on line that talk about this strange behavior in Russia. One final note, this is not a cute story about dogs. It's about a collapsed society and the many crazy things that come from that including stray dogs, orphaned street children, violence and poverty. But it's a great story with an incredible and moving ending. I'll definitely be reading more from this author. Highly recommended one of best books I've read in a really long time.
March 16, 2019
Es la historia real de una sociedad colapsada, de perros callejeros, niños huérfanos viviendo en la calle, violencia y pobreza.
Una gran historia.
Una gran historia.
September 29, 2010
As soon as I saw this book sitting on a shelf in Waterstones I made a bee line straight for it. I am such a huge animal lover and I am a sucker for books with animals on the cover, in the title or narrated by them. Wolf Totem, Animal Farm, Black Beauty and Life of Pi all feature in my list of favourite books of all time.
Dog Boy is narrated by Ramochka, a four year old boy who lives with his mother and his latest “unlce” in a high-rise appartment block in Moscow. After several days of his mum not returning, seeing Unlce moving out all the furniture, and being left to fend for himself in freeing conditions and with no food, he finally ventures outside. Cold and hungry, Ramochka follows a large sandy coloured dog back to her lair. The dog becomes the only source of food,warmth and comfort that Ramochka has available to him and he begins to see the dog as his Mamochka. The puppies that Mamochka is already nursing become his siblings and they accept him into their fold immediately and unquestioningly. The two older siblings, however, take more convincing but eventually Ramochka becomes a permanent and invaluable member of their little family, all living together in the basement of a derilict church in the harshest of conditions. The longer the new family are together, the more Ramochka begins to forget his old life, and before long he is eating rats and other fresh kill that any one of the pack manage to bring home.
What I loved about this book was the real love and strength of the bond between human and animal. It was amazing to see how the pack of stray dogs veiw the world, through the eyes of a small boy. The story is alternately shocking, pitiful, heartbreaking, tender, joyful and fascinating. I fell in love, smiled, cried and hoped. To live with this group of animals for a few days was a privelidge and one I won’t forget easily.
A highly recommended read. This is firmly in the top few books I have read so far in 2010. Wondeful, captivating, a must-read.
Dog Boy is narrated by Ramochka, a four year old boy who lives with his mother and his latest “unlce” in a high-rise appartment block in Moscow. After several days of his mum not returning, seeing Unlce moving out all the furniture, and being left to fend for himself in freeing conditions and with no food, he finally ventures outside. Cold and hungry, Ramochka follows a large sandy coloured dog back to her lair. The dog becomes the only source of food,warmth and comfort that Ramochka has available to him and he begins to see the dog as his Mamochka. The puppies that Mamochka is already nursing become his siblings and they accept him into their fold immediately and unquestioningly. The two older siblings, however, take more convincing but eventually Ramochka becomes a permanent and invaluable member of their little family, all living together in the basement of a derilict church in the harshest of conditions. The longer the new family are together, the more Ramochka begins to forget his old life, and before long he is eating rats and other fresh kill that any one of the pack manage to bring home.
What I loved about this book was the real love and strength of the bond between human and animal. It was amazing to see how the pack of stray dogs veiw the world, through the eyes of a small boy. The story is alternately shocking, pitiful, heartbreaking, tender, joyful and fascinating. I fell in love, smiled, cried and hoped. To live with this group of animals for a few days was a privelidge and one I won’t forget easily.
A highly recommended read. This is firmly in the top few books I have read so far in 2010. Wondeful, captivating, a must-read.
February 6, 2011
THIS BOOK SURELY DID BREAK MY READING HIATUS OF THE LAST 2 MONTHS.
You ever see those pictures of people and dogs kissing? I saw a picture of just that yesterday where an attractive, middle aged professional woman was letting a dog lick her mouth in her FB profile picture. Is there psychology behind human and canine relationships...certainly. Do humans substitute pets for children they've never had...surely they do!
I have an old poem I wrote years ago (20 to be exact) while travelling Califnoria with my wife to be...titled: "The Man Who Treated His Metal Detector as if It Were a Dog & The Woman Who Dressed Her Yorkie as if It Were Her Daughter"
We met these nice folks at a campground up in gold rush country I think near Angel Camp, maybe on the fringes of the New Madrid Reservoir...there was a dam I think on the Stanslaus River?
Anyway, I started wondering about human/dog relationships and what they tell us about each other...seems like most of the time the study reveals positive benefits.
So be it with "Dogboy" an excellent study of a boy who abandoned by his family during peristrokia nests up with a family of wild dogs who love and teach him to survive in the wilds on the fringes of Moscow. Yes, Russia. It gets rather cold there in winter as all good Germans and French remember!
He becomes a dog at least in so much as a human boy can: he eats raw meat regularly, licks his brother and sister dogs in return, marks his canine family territory with urine.
Needless to say he has to make the ultimate decision of whether to stay dog-human or join the ranks of city people who cut their hair and wash with water and soap instead of mongrel spit.
Now, I'm no dog specialist;however, the animal relationships described are the strongest, the human bonds and insecurities real enough and the over-all psychology works for me.
There are a few rough transitions especially where the human interlopers start intersecting with the pack.
Here's a parting question: Why do even the most civilized dogs like to roll, twist and shout on maggoty roadkill?
June 14, 2012
What to say about this book? Omigosh.
Halfway through reading, I had to go Google to establish whether I was reading fantasy or reality, so convincing was the story. and yes, I was both disturbed and saddened to hear that there were millions, yes millions of orphaned homeless children surviving however they could in post communist Russia, and that there were documented cases of children living with dogs, as in the case of Ivan Mishukov.
in a wealthy country like Australia, it's hard to imagine the kind of harsh child-unfriendly culture that developed in this era, that children would be left to fend for themselves and be treated with derision.
The story is so very well written. the author doesn't flinch with the facts of survival and the book may be a bit strong, too visceral for some readers.
I liked the fluid prose, an interesting foil for the often raw content. And I liked the way the story was held largely within the boy's view of the world...apart from the ending.
Being a dog person myself, I give the author a big tick for the authenticity of the dog behaviour.
The story often rides the borderline between disbelief and engagement, such is the subject matter.
The ending just didn't work for me. It felt like it was wrapped up in a hurry and missed quite some telling of the boy's transition.
Apart from that, an excellent read, more of an experience.
Halfway through reading, I had to go Google to establish whether I was reading fantasy or reality, so convincing was the story. and yes, I was both disturbed and saddened to hear that there were millions, yes millions of orphaned homeless children surviving however they could in post communist Russia, and that there were documented cases of children living with dogs, as in the case of Ivan Mishukov.
in a wealthy country like Australia, it's hard to imagine the kind of harsh child-unfriendly culture that developed in this era, that children would be left to fend for themselves and be treated with derision.
The story is so very well written. the author doesn't flinch with the facts of survival and the book may be a bit strong, too visceral for some readers.
I liked the fluid prose, an interesting foil for the often raw content. And I liked the way the story was held largely within the boy's view of the world...apart from the ending.
Being a dog person myself, I give the author a big tick for the authenticity of the dog behaviour.
The story often rides the borderline between disbelief and engagement, such is the subject matter.
The ending just didn't work for me. It felt like it was wrapped up in a hurry and missed quite some telling of the boy's transition.
Apart from that, an excellent read, more of an experience.
January 27, 2018
I really wanted to like this book as it was highly regarded by two fellow readers whose opinions I respect. Perhaps this led me too embark on the journey with too high an expectation. I wanted to give up on it, but perservered hoping that in completing the journey I would view the book more favourably. Aspects of the story were very fascinating, and I did enjoy reading how Romochka, the child protagonist, adjusts to life living with the canine species. However, although interesting, I don't think Hornung explored any additional knowledge about dog behaviour I was not alaready familiar with. As Romochka and his dog family struggle for survive, some elements of the book were violent and disturbing. Essentially, though, I was not drawn into the story and actually felt bored quite often. I didn't find her writing style particularly engaging at all. I felt this to be a very uneven book, and while parts of it were well written, conversely, I felt other parts were quite poorly written. I was also not entirely convinced by Romochka's experience. I understand that it is loosely based on the abandoned children in Russia and I understand that it was written in the third person, but in this story Romochka is abandoned at the age of four; hence one would assume his human verbal and conceptual skills remained at this level. However there were times that the narrator was explaining either/or his behaviour and feelings and they were truly beyond those of a four year old and this annoyed me. I guess all novels require the reader to suspend belief and go along with the journey. Had Hornung succeeded t0 to hook me into this particular journey, these elements of the book probably would not have bothered me - I possibly would not have even noticed. I became rather interested in the final chapters of the book, which took on a different perspective, but in the end I found this element rather trite and so it did not redeem my experience. However, something must have worked as I felt disturbed after reading it, it made me feel uncomfortable and it resonated with me for a couple of days. I was relieved to be finished and hence i cannot give it a good rating. I tend to stop reading books if I am not engaged - initially it used to be up to page 50, but then I extended this to page 100, however I recently made a commitment to finish everything I started. Having read this however, I think I will abandon a book if I am not enjoying it as there are so many books to read and life is too short. This is a novel that demonstrates how subjective the reading experience is; I am not alone in not enjoying the book, but the overwhelming majority of goodread readers seemed to have rated it very highly.
February 8, 2011
I'd picked up Dog Boy a number of times and having finally read it I'm glad I did. The theme of Dog Boy is the age old one of a boy being raised by dogs..yet this rendering by Eva Hornung was to me in the end an emotional look at the modern world, the harshness of life and the tenderness and caring of the pack.
Romochka is four when he discovers that he is alone in his abandoned apartment building on the outskirts of Moscow. His mother and uncle have disappeared, where they have gone is anyone's guess and we never find out. He ventures out into the freezing cold to find food and it is then that he sees Mamochka who leads him to her lair and is adopted into the clan. Romochka becomes one of Mamochka's puppies and learns to interact with the clan in their own 'language.'
Hornung makes this world believable in everyway; from Romochka's envy of the dogs teeth and claws as he grows and tries to hunt and his hankering for contact with some of the humans that he comes across after he ventures from the lair with the pack. To say more would spoil the story.
Dog Boy and especially the ending has lingered with me over the weeks since I finished it and I must say that Hornung has written a very thought provoking book that I would highly recommend.
Romochka is four when he discovers that he is alone in his abandoned apartment building on the outskirts of Moscow. His mother and uncle have disappeared, where they have gone is anyone's guess and we never find out. He ventures out into the freezing cold to find food and it is then that he sees Mamochka who leads him to her lair and is adopted into the clan. Romochka becomes one of Mamochka's puppies and learns to interact with the clan in their own 'language.'
Hornung makes this world believable in everyway; from Romochka's envy of the dogs teeth and claws as he grows and tries to hunt and his hankering for contact with some of the humans that he comes across after he ventures from the lair with the pack. To say more would spoil the story.
Dog Boy and especially the ending has lingered with me over the weeks since I finished it and I must say that Hornung has written a very thought provoking book that I would highly recommend.
April 1, 2010
A first-read win.
Reading this book is a very uncomfortable experience. I say that meaning the highest compliment. This fictional story about a four year old boy being abandoned by his family and being raised by feral dogs in Moscow is often repulsive and horrifying. The author pulls no punches when describing the filth and the horror. Yet this immersion into a very realistic horror is what makes this story riveting.It is essentially a survival tale but also a strange tale of family and love even if the family isn't all human. This novel often asks us to examine what defines the human and what defines the animal. It may not be as clear as you may think. As uncomfortable as this book may make you feel, It is impossible to put down and remains so until the last paragraph.
Reading this book is a very uncomfortable experience. I say that meaning the highest compliment. This fictional story about a four year old boy being abandoned by his family and being raised by feral dogs in Moscow is often repulsive and horrifying. The author pulls no punches when describing the filth and the horror. Yet this immersion into a very realistic horror is what makes this story riveting.It is essentially a survival tale but also a strange tale of family and love even if the family isn't all human. This novel often asks us to examine what defines the human and what defines the animal. It may not be as clear as you may think. As uncomfortable as this book may make you feel, It is impossible to put down and remains so until the last paragraph.
January 16, 2011
I won't forget this heartbreaking story. I couldn't put it down. It was a tough read for me, sort of like The Road by Cormac McCarthy, in that I was dreading what might be coming next, but cared so much about the boy that I was compelled to keep reading because I hoped for the best.
The main themes for me were: what it means to be human, people's capacity for cruelty & indifference, and the importance of family (or pack) for survival.
I highly recommend this book. The author has done a remarkable job of making the journey inside the mind of a feral child feel genuine. I know this one will stick with me a long time.
The main themes for me were: what it means to be human, people's capacity for cruelty & indifference, and the importance of family (or pack) for survival.
I highly recommend this book. The author has done a remarkable job of making the journey inside the mind of a feral child feel genuine. I know this one will stick with me a long time.
October 17, 2021
This book is quite the read. It explored animal/human boundaries in a very unique way, and the ending was amazing. The book felt like it had come full circle and the ending tied the plot together perfectly. The reason I can’t bring myself to give it 5 stars is the fact that this book at many times is downright disgusting. I completely understand that it was important to the book and I definitely wouldn’t remove any of grosser parts. But at the same times it had me almost gagging on multiple occasions.
August 15, 2013
The story of a young boy Romochka,abandoned and alone, adopted by dogs is an emotional and moving one.
Initially I was repulsed by many of the very graphic descriptions of their lives...hunting,eating,cleaning one another but I'm so glad I didn't give up. This is truly an extraordinary story of the nurturing nature of dogs and the relationship between them and this young boy. I don't feel I can do this book justice in a review and you really need to read it to fully appreciate it.
Initially I was repulsed by many of the very graphic descriptions of their lives...hunting,eating,cleaning one another but I'm so glad I didn't give up. This is truly an extraordinary story of the nurturing nature of dogs and the relationship between them and this young boy. I don't feel I can do this book justice in a review and you really need to read it to fully appreciate it.
December 18, 2018
this was so fantastic, and so very special, have never read anything like it.
September 24, 2020
4.5 stars. We don't deserve dogs.
October 13, 2021
If I ever thought I understood the human/animal boundary, this book made me reconsider my beliefs. Disgusting at times, but overall an intriguing tale of society failing. Or is it?
September 30, 2024
So depressing but amazing none the less. Really made me think about the complexities of life and doing the right thing.
February 16, 2020
I am rarely touched by a book but this one made me cry like a baby! It is a beautiful story of a contemporary Mowgli, influenced by the medical curiosity of today. Although slightly dull in the beginning, the end makes up for it beautifully.
May 10, 2010
This is an amazing book, but it is not for the fainthearted.. Stories about feral children are not new and such tellings have been presented in an almost mystical way. But make no mistake, feral children become feral because those who should protect and care for them do not. They are abused, neglected or both. Author, Eva Hornung, spares us no grim detail about the limits of human beings’ inhumane and cruel qualities at the same time juxtaposing those with the warmth, acceptance, and loyalty of dogs.
Four-year-old Romochka has been abandoned by his mother and uncle to fend for himself in their old Moscow apartment. As his food supply runs out he is forced into the larger world as his food runs out. He eventually finds himself following an alpha female dog back to her den and his life as a dog begins. Dog Boy is told almost entirely from Romochka's (the feral boy’s) perspective. And though his life with the dogs is brutal and, at times, violent, the most horrifying parts of this story prove to be his encounters with humans. The author is frank and uncompromising in talking about life on the streets, for dogs or for humans. She is masterful in describing how a feral dog pack works and survives, and one can almost smell the various nuances of the lair and feel the itch of the fleas. Romochka and the dog pack live in the terrible landscape of the slums of Moscow, foraging and feeding on scraps from dumpsters, rodents, birds, and seeking warmth and sustenance from each other. The only difference, it seems, is that the dogs remain loyal to one another through even the most desperate times, while the humans consistently fail or persecute their own kind, and the animals around them, with an often casual cruelty.
Romochka is incorporated into the pack and treated as a puppy, suckling for food and warmth during the bitterly cold winter Moscow months. He learns their verbal and body language, and soon becomes more canine than human. His attempts to be loved and to please the dogs are touching and believable, and we share his frustration at the inferiority of his senses of smell, hearing and sight. As he grows and leaves the den, he becomes a figure of fear and hatred persecuted by most humans, although a few good hearted souls take pity on his plight and feed both him and his dog family.
He is brought back to civilization by the authorities and given over to two well meaning, but somewhat bumbling educational psychologists in a center for abandoned children. I was a bit disappointed by her thin portrayal of these good people, especially given her rich rendering of dog-boy and dog life.
Central questions plague Romochka back in the human world that go to the core of his humanity and identity. Is he normal? Is it better for him to be with dogs or humans and how far has his feral life compromised his humanity. These are answers he must find and choose his path accordingly. Frankly, half way through the book, I was tempted to choose the path of dogs.
Four-year-old Romochka has been abandoned by his mother and uncle to fend for himself in their old Moscow apartment. As his food supply runs out he is forced into the larger world as his food runs out. He eventually finds himself following an alpha female dog back to her den and his life as a dog begins. Dog Boy is told almost entirely from Romochka's (the feral boy’s) perspective. And though his life with the dogs is brutal and, at times, violent, the most horrifying parts of this story prove to be his encounters with humans. The author is frank and uncompromising in talking about life on the streets, for dogs or for humans. She is masterful in describing how a feral dog pack works and survives, and one can almost smell the various nuances of the lair and feel the itch of the fleas. Romochka and the dog pack live in the terrible landscape of the slums of Moscow, foraging and feeding on scraps from dumpsters, rodents, birds, and seeking warmth and sustenance from each other. The only difference, it seems, is that the dogs remain loyal to one another through even the most desperate times, while the humans consistently fail or persecute their own kind, and the animals around them, with an often casual cruelty.
Romochka is incorporated into the pack and treated as a puppy, suckling for food and warmth during the bitterly cold winter Moscow months. He learns their verbal and body language, and soon becomes more canine than human. His attempts to be loved and to please the dogs are touching and believable, and we share his frustration at the inferiority of his senses of smell, hearing and sight. As he grows and leaves the den, he becomes a figure of fear and hatred persecuted by most humans, although a few good hearted souls take pity on his plight and feed both him and his dog family.
He is brought back to civilization by the authorities and given over to two well meaning, but somewhat bumbling educational psychologists in a center for abandoned children. I was a bit disappointed by her thin portrayal of these good people, especially given her rich rendering of dog-boy and dog life.
Central questions plague Romochka back in the human world that go to the core of his humanity and identity. Is he normal? Is it better for him to be with dogs or humans and how far has his feral life compromised his humanity. These are answers he must find and choose his path accordingly. Frankly, half way through the book, I was tempted to choose the path of dogs.
September 4, 2014
This is an odd book for a number of reasons, and one of them is that social interaction between humans is totally absent for at least two thirds of the text - which is just how I like it. In the first pages there’s no lengthy introductions to characters with complex background histories and networks of friends and family; there’s not even any dialogue. All we have is a little four-year-old boy lost and alone in Moscow. The world around him is stark and cold and it seems impossible that he will survive. Other people are not interesting to little Romochka, and they are not interested in him. But then in the street he sees a mother bitch, and he follows her home to her pups, and things go from there; he becomes the Dog Boy of the title, a semi-mythical figure roaming the hidden world of the Moscow underground amongst the homeless and derelict and criminal.
What I crave in fiction is the kind of intimate narrative that takes me into another world. This could be either the subjective inner world of a character, or an actual place or society foreign to me, or a combination of both of those things. This book offers all of that stuff, and it was greatly refreshing to pick it up and be plunged straight into a context that was both psychologically and physically alien. So strange is the idea to me that such a young child would be able to survive on his own, let alone be adopted by a pack of dogs even to the extent of suckling like a puppy, that at first I found the whole thing completely implausible. But it is in fact inspired by a true story.
Still, I am not especially bothered by the idea that it is fanciful. It is a work of fiction, after all, and plausibility is less important to me than sense of place, of acuity, of imagination. I was always aware here that I was being told a tall and somewhat fantastic story, but it’s a good story, funny and sad and often beautifully written. Best of all is that it doesn’t outstay its welcome — it’s quite short for a novel, and the scope and pace of the thing feels tight and well-defined.
If I have any reservations about it, it’s that near the end of the book the perspective shifts somewhat and a human element is introduced that never entirely worked for me as a reader. By this point I was too fully involved with Romochka’s world to be interested in these new characters, and though they are perfectly fine as people, it was quite a shock to be back in their world of clean clothes and frightened minds.
They, of course, are tasked with dealing with the boy and bringing him back into society, and this is the inevitable direction where a novel like this must go if we are expected to read it as semi-realistic and not the stuff of science fiction. But I was pleased to note that the ending contains a few keen and perfectly judged twists that kept me hooked until the last line, and for that at least I’m willing to forgive a great deal of the slacker sequences in this book.
What I crave in fiction is the kind of intimate narrative that takes me into another world. This could be either the subjective inner world of a character, or an actual place or society foreign to me, or a combination of both of those things. This book offers all of that stuff, and it was greatly refreshing to pick it up and be plunged straight into a context that was both psychologically and physically alien. So strange is the idea to me that such a young child would be able to survive on his own, let alone be adopted by a pack of dogs even to the extent of suckling like a puppy, that at first I found the whole thing completely implausible. But it is in fact inspired by a true story.
Still, I am not especially bothered by the idea that it is fanciful. It is a work of fiction, after all, and plausibility is less important to me than sense of place, of acuity, of imagination. I was always aware here that I was being told a tall and somewhat fantastic story, but it’s a good story, funny and sad and often beautifully written. Best of all is that it doesn’t outstay its welcome — it’s quite short for a novel, and the scope and pace of the thing feels tight and well-defined.
If I have any reservations about it, it’s that near the end of the book the perspective shifts somewhat and a human element is introduced that never entirely worked for me as a reader. By this point I was too fully involved with Romochka’s world to be interested in these new characters, and though they are perfectly fine as people, it was quite a shock to be back in their world of clean clothes and frightened minds.
They, of course, are tasked with dealing with the boy and bringing him back into society, and this is the inevitable direction where a novel like this must go if we are expected to read it as semi-realistic and not the stuff of science fiction. But I was pleased to note that the ending contains a few keen and perfectly judged twists that kept me hooked until the last line, and for that at least I’m willing to forgive a great deal of the slacker sequences in this book.
March 28, 2010
Inspired by the real story of Ivan Mishukov, Dogboy sidesteps both cheap sentiment and tawdry sensationalism in its tale of an abandoned boy taken in by feral dog clan. Romochka could have easily become one more child among the frost-bitten dead, the shack-city poor, or the bridge-dwelling bomzhi. Instead, the four-year-old followed a golden stray he would come to think of as “Mamochka”— sucked at her teat and curled to sleep among her puppies.
As Romochka becomes a full-fledged member of his new canine family, Hornung creates a wonderful sense of dog culture in the intricacies of behavior and emotion and loyalty within the clan. And thus as they hunt, play, scrounge, fight, beg in the harsh city—there emerges a startling recognizable portrait of love and adaptation and the struggle to just live.
It’s no coincidence that the dogs live in an abandoned church cellar, just past the shadow a garbage mountain— two worlds just one step out of sync. However, it’s the human world, portrayed through the eyes of two scientists who start to hone in on Romochka, where the book falters. Nothing in this Moscow of prestige and names and train schedules quite came as alive to me as the feel of fur in the dark or the fullness of a fresh raw kill. And in the absence of a parallel arc equally transformative, the urgency of Romochka’s conflict of not belonging to one world or the other is sometimes a bit lost in meandering narrative.
The plot entanglements thrown in the second half to complicate the story also tend to be more ridiculous than illuminating. Although I thought it missed the opportunity to truly skewer the failure of the human animal- make a statement- Dogboy still offers a fairly compelling story about our animal instinct for beautiful survival. (And offers hope for our animal instinct for more.) Rating: 3.5 stars
**I received Dog Boy from the Goodreads’s First Reads.
As Romochka becomes a full-fledged member of his new canine family, Hornung creates a wonderful sense of dog culture in the intricacies of behavior and emotion and loyalty within the clan. And thus as they hunt, play, scrounge, fight, beg in the harsh city—there emerges a startling recognizable portrait of love and adaptation and the struggle to just live.
It’s no coincidence that the dogs live in an abandoned church cellar, just past the shadow a garbage mountain— two worlds just one step out of sync. However, it’s the human world, portrayed through the eyes of two scientists who start to hone in on Romochka, where the book falters. Nothing in this Moscow of prestige and names and train schedules quite came as alive to me as the feel of fur in the dark or the fullness of a fresh raw kill. And in the absence of a parallel arc equally transformative, the urgency of Romochka’s conflict of not belonging to one world or the other is sometimes a bit lost in meandering narrative.
The plot entanglements thrown in the second half to complicate the story also tend to be more ridiculous than illuminating. Although I thought it missed the opportunity to truly skewer the failure of the human animal- make a statement- Dogboy still offers a fairly compelling story about our animal instinct for beautiful survival. (And offers hope for our animal instinct for more.) Rating: 3.5 stars
**I received Dog Boy from the Goodreads’s First Reads.
July 17, 2010
Set in the outskirts of Moscow at the time of perestroika. Thousands of children are homeless, roaming alone, forming gangs to survive. A four year old boy is abandoned in an apartment his uncle strips of all belongings. He is adopted by a pack of feral dogs who have found shelter in the basement of a ruined church. He lives with them as a fellow dog and finally their pack leader for some four years. He becomes known and feared as Dog Boy. t There are increasingly military sweeps in the Communist reorganization effort to round up homeless children to be locked into state run 'homes', the condition of which as hardly better than the life they were supposedly saved from. The fate of the thousands of dogs is to be spayed if they are fortunate, but mostly simply shot as menaces to humans. All are desperate to survive in a ruined society- animal and humans alike. A stunning and almost supernatural depiction of dog life versus human life on the edge. One of the most amazing books. Hornung is Australian and has won prizes, but not the worldwide recognition she so richly deserves. This book may change that.
April 18, 2010
This is one of those novels that has sucked me in right from the beginning with the horrifying reality that a four-year-old boy has been abandoned by his mother and uncle and left to fend for himself. The fact that my own son is four, makes it all that more fascinating (and disturbing) to read how the boy falls in with a canine family.
The author is masterful at describing canine traits and behavior and is able to cultivate profound sympathy for the dog clan and the boy who has adopted them as his own. The humans in the story often come off as evil, manipulating, and selfish and the author is able to use that to help the reader embrace the dog boy.
I recommend this book to people who have an interest in canine behavior, human sociology, and are looking for an understanding of other cultures and societies. This is not a quick read, nor is it an easy read, but it is well worth the time and the emotional investment.
The author is masterful at describing canine traits and behavior and is able to cultivate profound sympathy for the dog clan and the boy who has adopted them as his own. The humans in the story often come off as evil, manipulating, and selfish and the author is able to use that to help the reader embrace the dog boy.
I recommend this book to people who have an interest in canine behavior, human sociology, and are looking for an understanding of other cultures and societies. This is not a quick read, nor is it an easy read, but it is well worth the time and the emotional investment.
May 29, 2010
Whoa!
Based loosely on the story of Ivan Mishukov, a young boy who lived, from age four to age six,with a pack of feral street dogs in post-Communist Moscow. This author did her research about dogs and the dynamics of the pack. Through all of the harshness, and in some instances brutality, depicted here, this is ultimately a love story. (NOT romantic)
If I was wearing socks while reading this, they would have been knocked, no BLOWN, off.
My limitaion:
Found myself feeling distracted in Part IV. Missed the dogs. Bored with the scientists. Also wanted a bit more about Laurentia.
My husband reminds me, as I sit here hammering away at my brief review, that I often say "Whoa!" when referring to him, and he is NOT on any waiting list from the library. Nor is he a 7-day loan as was this book. He is for LIFE. Though this book must be returned, unlike my husband, it's impression will be with me for many moons.
Based loosely on the story of Ivan Mishukov, a young boy who lived, from age four to age six,with a pack of feral street dogs in post-Communist Moscow. This author did her research about dogs and the dynamics of the pack. Through all of the harshness, and in some instances brutality, depicted here, this is ultimately a love story. (NOT romantic)
If I was wearing socks while reading this, they would have been knocked, no BLOWN, off.
My limitaion:
Found myself feeling distracted in Part IV. Missed the dogs. Bored with the scientists. Also wanted a bit more about Laurentia.
My husband reminds me, as I sit here hammering away at my brief review, that I often say "Whoa!" when referring to him, and he is NOT on any waiting list from the library. Nor is he a 7-day loan as was this book. He is for LIFE. Though this book must be returned, unlike my husband, it's impression will be with me for many moons.
September 29, 2010
What would it really be like to be a human toddler cared for ie. fed, cleaned, protected, loved...by dogs and only dogs? Feral dogs at that. Dirty, smelly, at times vicious, at times starving dogs, in the slums of Moscow, during freezing, snow bound winters, menaced by violent street kids and captured by brutal police...
Eva Hornung has written a completely convincing fable about just such an extraordinary occurence, which leaves one caring deeply about the human boys and their dog clan. It's based on a real boy named Ivan Mishukov who was abandoned by his parents in Moscow and lived probably two years with street dogs, and it's a rivetting read.
This interview helps one to understand how the author has managed this feat of imagination. She actually studied the Russian language intensively for 9 months in order to be able to write more authenitcally about residents of Moscow, and of course she did heaps of research on dogs.
Recommended for years 10 and up.
Eva Hornung has written a completely convincing fable about just such an extraordinary occurence, which leaves one caring deeply about the human boys and their dog clan. It's based on a real boy named Ivan Mishukov who was abandoned by his parents in Moscow and lived probably two years with street dogs, and it's a rivetting read.
This interview helps one to understand how the author has managed this feat of imagination. She actually studied the Russian language intensively for 9 months in order to be able to write more authenitcally about residents of Moscow, and of course she did heaps of research on dogs.
Recommended for years 10 and up.
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