Charlie Fletcher

Narrated by an honest yet naïve adolescent and set in a distant future in which mankind is facing extinction, this is a beautifully written piece of world building which balances depressing reality with a kind of stubborn hope. And dogs! It's a gentle rebuke of the way we live today (plastic everywhere) and a somewhat sardonic assurance that human foibles, as well as human strengths, will persist right until the very end. I especially liked the way Fletcher juxtaposed the tail-wagging show more consistency of his canine protagonist with the often fickle nature of the humans around him. If I have one criticism though it would be his overuse of foreshadowing of the "Little did I know what was to come next..." variety. Yes there are twists, especially that one-two punch at the end, but we really don't need a string of road signs advertising them. But given the novel's overall impact it's a very small bone to pick. Bibliophiles will appreciate the sly tributes to Tolkien, C. S. Lewis, and Harlan Ellison, among others. show less

I've stopped reading this book at p124 of 500+.

The setting and characters look very intriguing and I was looking forward to it. Unfortunately, the book hit two annoyances in a row and that was enough to throw me out.

The first is relatively minor, but a cliché: there's a conspiracy going on directed specifically against the Good Guys, and this conspiracy involves an awful lot of moving parts and complexities. Nevertheless everything seems to go as planned, *even though* it includes the show more villains predicting very specific details of what the Good Guys will do (without demonstrating any particular special talent that would allow it), and having very specific knowledge about the whereabouts of certain items (without showing why they know this). It's a common trope that the best-laid and simple plans of Good Guys gang aft agley while the Baddies pull off elaborate conspiracies, but somehow I found it noticeable here.

The specific point which started me thinking about this: one of the villains, while imprisoned, uses a load of bones to create a necromantic pet and feed this through a slit he's convinced a jailer to open in the cell door. There is no way he could have known the jailer would allow this. The pet then runs right across London without being lost, run over by a carriage, or eaten by the dog that very nearly catches it, to deliver a message - and then runs back to the cell with a means of escape. I'd have loved to see the pet get caught by the dog and this plan fall apart, just the once.

The second one is significantly more frustrating, because it's one huge lampshade with a touch of sexist cliché. Essentially, the villains' plot is largely outlined over the course of the first hundred pages. Then the Goodies have a conversation.
Male Protag says, basically: "Hey, I'm worried about the thing that's happened. I'm concerned that [pretty much the exact plot] may happen. We should [take simple, obvious, reasonable steps which would basically foil the plot] to avoid it and fulfil out duties."
Female Protag says, basically: "No, we can't do that because I am emotional right now. I feel bad about things, including that I was emotional earlier and allowed my emotions to make me do something unwise. I will briefly exposit the point of our organisation and pretend this addresses your reasonable suggestions in some way."
Minor Character says: "You two are so into each other."

Sigh. Basically, this scene has the man lampshade the situation, in a way that makes him sensible (and correct) just like we want our clever protagonists to be. They have, after all, survived for centuries by being very clever and cautious. But to explain why they don't do the sensible thing, the woman gets emotional and overrules him, leaving them vulnerable to the villain's plot. This is old hat.

Yes, the scene does allow the author to explain away why they don't do the sensible thing. It makes the man sensible, and the woman irrational. It makes the man right and the woman wrong. It makes the woman to blame for the fact that everything will go wrong. And it makes the man wrong, because he succumbs to his own emotional attachment to the woman and allows her emotions to mislead him. It's old. It's a cliché. And it's frustrating. The author has made the very clever characters be foolish for no good reason, in order that the plot can go ahead. And in the process, he makes them look bad, and in particular he undermines the female protagonist who was until this point pretty damned awesome.

This book has a cool setting, a cool premise and a pleasingly diverse and exciting cast. I was really quite excited by the prospect of following these characters through this story. The protagonists are kickass in a not-quite-obvious way. The villains are intriguingly weird and sinister. There are some more ambiguous figures who also seem interesting, like the minions. But this scene really just evaporated my interest in reading the rest of the book.

Having had that scene, I am faced with reading another 400 pages watching them succumb to the very plot they agreed not to take precautions against. And the whole time, I'm just going to be sat there thinking "but you could easily have avoided all this bad stuff by Doing the Thing". On top of which, I've now got a reasonable idea of how the plot is supposed to unfold: having stated the plot, and had the protagonists lampshade why they aren't doing anything that would hinder the plot, it really doesn't seem plausible that the villains' plot will go wrong any time soon.

I appreciate there's a possibility that Fletcher has been clever, and actually things won't go the expected way. I don't see any way that he can recover this specific scene, because even if things don't go as expected, it won't change the fact that Man accurately predicted the specific plot against them and Woman emotioned him into stupidity. And so the characters themselves are weakened. And because there are another 400 pages to this book, I can't really be bothered to read them all on the remote chance that the story is much cleverer than this.

And plus, this is only book one of a trilogy. There is no way at all I'm reading 1500ish pages if it's as frustrating as I predict, which means I won't get closure anyway, which particularly deters me from reading the first 500. So no. Sorry Charlie. Too many books on my To Read pile to take a punt on you being less disappointing than I fear. Unless I get reports back that I am completely wrong about this, I'm stopping. show less

I enjoyed this Dickensian urban fantasy romp, but it couldn't be said to have a satisfying ending - rather, this is very much part one, introduction and setup of an ongoing story. While various elements of the plot get resolved, the larger part of the questions raised are only consolidated or given an additional twist for future volumes. (The overall story is looking very interesting, but I admit I was disappointed at the fraction of resolution we achieved this time. Also, as someone who's show more read in a desultory fashion about John Dee, I was decidedly nonplussed by the nature of his inclusion. Now, if it had been Edward Kelley, that would've been another matter altogether...)

But a fun romp it is, full of delight in language, interesting characters, and intriguing concepts. show less

“A man stole my dog. I went after him. Bad things happened. I can never go home.”

Thus opens A Boy and His Dog at the End of the World by C.A. Fletcher, one of the best post-apocalyptic books of the last decade at least. This book tells the story of Griz, who lives in a world with barely any people left. When a rare visitor comes to the island Griz lives on and leaves with his dog, Griz doesn’t think twice about taking off in pursuit.

“Dogs were with us from the very beginning and of show more all the animals that walked the long centuries beside us, they always walked the closest.

Griz is fiercely loyal to family, and dogs are family. Griz’s world is mostly empty of people and all the conveniences that modern society takes for granted. People get by on what they can do for themselves and what they can scavenge from the wreckage of the old world. Griz narrates his pursuit into a world that is only familiar from books. Survival in this world will take every bit of determination, luck and courage that Griz can muster.

Fletcher sets the mood with the very title and reinforces it from the opening line. The tension, excitement and worry crackles on every page. Seeing the world through Griz’s eyes shines a light on all the things that are important in our world as well as which things endure and which fade away.

Griz is a compelling narrator with a distinctive voice. The story is deeply moving and you’ll frequently find yourself reading it with your heart in your throat. Fletcher explores not only his depopulated world but what it means to be human.

Ultimately this is a story about the importance of connection, whether in a world crowded with people or a world nearly empty of them. This book has the potential to be a classic and a book that you will want to read, reread, and then read again. One of the finest examples the genre has to offer.

I was fortunate to be provided a copy of this book by the publisher.

“There may be no law left except what you make of it. But if you steal my dog, you can at least expect me to come after you. Because if we’re not loyal to the things we love, what’s the point?” show less