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Well, the Bear’s already finished his read, and The Art of Racing in the Rain goes right to the top of his favorite books list!

He loved this book. Let’s face it, racing fiction, unless of the recent genre of NASCAR-romance-pulp fiction variety, or out-and-out humor/parody, doesn’t sell well, and can be pretty dry stuff. Lovable mutt Enzo, however, has given life and delight to Denny, Eve, and Zoë.

Garth Stein (who got the author’s credit, probably because Enzo, like Murphy, lacks the digit definition and opposable thumbs needed to write) has found a voice in Enzo that’s unique in its ability to deliver a detached view of the human condition.

Garth (for Enzo, I assume) signed Murphy’s book, “For Murphy, Happy Manifesting!”

This isn’t really a book about racing; it’s a book about life. Not just ordinary life, but manic depressive, roller-coaster, heights of exhilaration, depths of despair life. Does that seem over the top? It might, but this Bear laughed, this Bear cried, this Bear loved The Art of Racing in the Rain.

Perhaps if I let Enzo tell a little bit of it. About his father, who he doesn’t know but who was claimed by the farmer where he was born (…“a mean bastard who would look you in the eyes and lie even if telling the truth would serve him better…”) to be “a shepherd-poodle mix.” (The farmer) “firmly believed that shepherds and poodles were the smart ones…” Enzo doesn’t think much of that, and of course shares his own ideas on the topic, as he does throughout the story, “everyone knows that shepherds and poodles aren’t especially smart. They’re responders and reactors, not independent thinkers…I’m sure my father was a terrier. Because terriers are problem solvers.”

Denny Swift, a young touring car and sports car driver, adopts Enzo, who it turns out, “has the soul of a driver.” The pup watches television with Denny – movies like Le Mans, and Grand Prix, and Speedvision all day while Denny is at work at the Mercedes dealership where he is a mechanic.

Denny is a true talent; early on, Denny settles in with Eve, his young wife, to watch an in-car video of an enduro at Portland. Enzo watches and listens:

“How come you go through the turns so much faster than the other cars?” Eve asked.

We watched. Denny got up behind a yellow Camaro at the end of the back straight, and though it looked as if he could have taken the other car in turn 12, he held back. Eve noticed.

“Why didn’t you pass him?” she asked.

“I know him. He’s got too much power and would just pass me back on the straight. I think I take him in the next series of turns.”

Yes. At the next turn-in, Denny was inches from the Camaro’s bumper. He rode tight through the double-apex right-hand turn and then popped out at the exit to take the inside line for the next turn, a quick left, and he zipped right by.

“This part of the track is really slick in the rain,” he said. “He has to back way off. By the time he gets his grip back, I’m out of his reach.”

As for the art of driving in the rain, it’s in the phrase, “That which you manifest is before you.” Read the book, Enzo will explain it all.

And so it goes, a tour-de-force of driving, tracks, and cars, but – fortunately, actually – all that is the harmony here, not the melody. The story here is one of family tragedy, and of strength and perseverance where most would give up. Not Denny, not through disappointment, death, deceit, and – finally – triumph. But we’re getting ahead of the story.

Enzo is the observer that can’t talk, but that nonetheless is the voice that tells us this story. This is a philosopher dog who not only tells a compelling story, but shares his very unique observations of the world around him. He hates crows. He admits they’re cousins of the Raven, who – according to the legends of indigenous people of the Northwest – created man, but, “They sit in the trees and on the electric wires and on the roofs and they watch everything, the sinister little bastards…they are resentful and angry, bitter at being genetically dwarfed by their brothers (ravens)…Very smart, very sly, they are best when they apply their evil little genius to uncapping a garbage can…”

The Art of Racing in the Rain is a memoir. A look back at a dog’s life, and at the lives of the humans in a dog’s life. It’s a story told on the last day of a dog’s life, a loving farewell, and an uplifting look ahead at what he is certain will be his next life…as a human. “I know what’s next,” he muses as he starts his story, “I’ve seen it on TV. A documentary I saw about Mongolia, of all places. It was the best thing I’ve ever seen on television, other than the 1993 Grand Prix of Europe, of course, the greatest automobile race of all time in which Ayrton Senna proved himself to be a genius in the rain. After the 1993 Grand Prix, the best thing I’ve ever seen on TV is a documentary that explained everything to me, made it all clear, told the whole truth: when a dog is finished living his lifetimes as a dog, his next incarnation will be as a man.”

A man with the soul of a driver. But I’ll stop before I’ve told too much. The Art of Racing in the Rain is a real “must read.” You might even find yourself reading it aloud to your dog.

A big thanks from the Bear to Chris O. from Seattle, who got the author’s inscription and gave Murphy the book.

The Art of Racing in the Rain
by Garth Stein
321 pages
HarperCollins Publishers
New York, New York

This entry was posted on Thursday, October 30th, 2008 at 9:09 am and is filed under Features. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.