Dogod

In the cover photo here, the Golden Receiver by any other name only deigned to look down at me directly because I had meaty bites stuck up my nose. And how come I’m the only one to have aged since?
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Ed: following is the Thomas-Nelson-Australia’s 1977 blurb for the original edition, but here annotated, in italics, by the author for this reprint.

‘Bill Reed’s first novel is a celebration of the Australian language. ‘Dogod’ employs a language that uses our sounds, our national images, our landscapes and our slang to examine our rhythms and forms of speech. Leading back through the images-as-words of Joyce, Carroll, Thackeray and Shakespeare…’
(I thought I was the one making with the jokes here?)
‘… here is a lament for the human condition as it is affected in modern times.’
(I lamented a bit over the manuscript too. All I know was it was a neat pile of typescript pages but next morning it had paws marks all over it.)

‘As a bone to a dog, so are we as toys to the gods. Hence Dog-god – a chaotic deity tossing and pouncing with bestial delight on His/Its favourite human plaything, Jelf. A walking disaster area, Jelf hardly needs Dogod’s assistance to attract the natural and unnatural contempt of his associates as he lurches on his apocalyptic journey…’
( ‘apocalyptic’ is first-class; with his allotted dog pass, Jelf travels Economy)
‘… through Australia’s visible and invisible landscapes.’

‘’Dogod’ is both funny and profound. It is an examination of the comic-tragedy that is within each of us, and within our society. Its wit, its humour and its deeper purposes are brilliantly sustained. Its challenge is for you the reader.’
(At least putting reader, singular, was spot on.)

(NB: Also, there’s nothing about the plot here. I remember distinctly that there was one – as in Jelf chasing Alyce chasing Quilty chasing Henry chasing a whole host of others or vice versa, while the Australian dream – really doggedly -- chases them all and keeps spoiling the plot like the real hound it is.)
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About the author
Bill Reed is a playwright, novelist and short-story wroughtist. He dangles, shaken, hanging from the pelt.