Synopsis:
The debut collection of an O. Henry Award– winning short-story writer, Dogwalker assembles its cast from society’s misfits: the disabled and the blind, the hapless and the troubled, and all species of mutants—including a giant slug that almost breaks up a marriage, a preponderance of three-legged dogs, and a family of circus freaks who look remarkably like cats. Here, too, are hexes, voodoo, refrigerated dead puppies, and an unforgettable game involving a chainsaw. The stories in Dogwalker are narrated with surreal tranquility, with a pronounced lack of amazement at life’s vicissitudes and an affable acceptance of its strangest circumstances.
With a pitch-perfect ear for dialogue and a sensibility as unique as his subjects, Arthur Bradford peels back a surface layer of depravity and violence to reveal a world of surprising gentleness, compassion, and innocence. In these twelve strikingly provocative and hilarious stories, he emerges as an utterly original new voice in contemporary fiction.
From the Publisher:
Advance Praise:
"Arthur Bradford is very tall, but this does not seem to have hampered his writing. His perfect, perfect stories remain in your head, much like, say, a severed torso might remain under the tracks of a train (see Bill McQuill). Please: you should read Bradford because his stories run on childlike wonder, mitigated by the many mutations of adulthood, which is how we all feel, yes? His world appears, at first, to be a happy one, where people collect large slugs from the glove compartments of wrecked cars, hoping to sell said slugs for large sums. But then something dark and slithery happens, and his simple sentences and seemingly banal observations give way to the illumination of more desperate lives and venal motivations. Always there are good people and conniving people, and the good people try hard to remain good. Also, there are mutants. Why is Arthur so fascinated by mutants? The scarred and severed? Why is he so cheerful about their plight? How can he seem so nonchalant when describing chainsaws touching skin, small men birthed by dogs? How can stories such as these be, still, so funny, so full of something like joy? These are questions we may never, ever answer. If you don't like Arthur's stories you are not my friend."
--Dave Eggers
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