It took me far too long to immerse myself in the glories of "The Story of Edgar Sawtelle" by David Wroblewski. The formidably paginated book haunted the display case of the Philadelphia bookstore I worked in last summer, new copies steadily appearing as their predecessors rapidly flew the coop. I resisted the call of the dust jacket, shying away from the author's difficult surname. In January, I succumbed. Three hundred pages later I couldn't believe I had read so much and that not a single page had been wasted. I was just halfway through, and I couldn't wait for more.
Edgar Sawtelle is the son of dog breeders in the plains of Wisconsin. His grandfather began crossing dogs based on an uncanny instinct for quality, and generations of canines later, the Sawtelle dogs are on the verge of becoming impeccable in addition to magnificent.
Edgar and his parents Trudy and Gar have something a lot like paradise. They live in a small town that boasts a striking cast of unique characters. The year is methodically paced and circulates on a schedule dictated by the dogs that includes breedings, whelping, weanings, trainings, and adoptions. Each of the Sawtelles has a particular strength within the rotation. Life is good, if not idyllic.
It should be mentioned that one does not have to be a dog lover to love this book. Wroblewski spans the divide between species and the dogs are much more than mere companions.
Born mute, Edgar is phenomenally intelligent and conceives of his own sign system with which he communicates with his parents and the dogs. His intrinsic connection to the dogs is fierce, and naming them is his particular talent. Almondine, who is little more than a pup at his birth, becomes his constant companion and, through their beautifully illustrated relationship, both Edgar's affinity for training dogs and Wroblewski's talent as a writer gleam.
The trouble begins with the return of Gar's brother Claude. Like the other Sawtelles, he too has a particular talent with dogs. Somewhere along the way, this power grew distorted. For a time the brothers are able to work together with civility, but for reasons unclear to Edgar and his mother, Claude leaves as abruptly as he appeared. Not too long after, Gar dies.
His father's sudden death throws Edgar's life into bleak and violent disarray. The oppressive grief of the loss almost incapacitates him and his mother. Trudy catches pneumonia and a corner cut in Edgar's chores forces them to ask Claude for help.
In light of his uncle's increasing presence on the farm, Edgar begins to have suspicions about his father's death. As Claude grows closer and closer to Trudy, Edgar's anger spikes. An accusation badly communicated forces Edgar into the woods as a runaway. For months he travels through the countryside, stealing food from comfortable summer residents with three dogs in tow.
The time Edgar spends on the outskirts of civilization reveals his strengths as well as the excellence of his canine companions. His communion with his dogs assumes new depths. As Edgar struggles to combine his evidence and his instincts to understand his father's absence, the reader draws close to the rigid reality of loss and the fierce creativity needed to survive.
There are moments in the novel that transcend the tangible, but at no point do the events feel orchestrated by Wroblewski. He has an incredibly light touch and the story unfolds as if it were being written as the reader turns each page.
As the narrative began drawing to a close and the tension mounted, I had to put the book down. Its intensity raised my pulse and I was torn between wanting to rush through until the finish and parceling out the final chapters. Do not delay; "The Story of Edgar Sawtelle" doesn't deserve to be missed.