Three Dog Night [Hardcover]

Peter Goldsworthy (Author)

Product Details

• Hardcover
• Publisher: PENGUIN USA (2003)
• ASIN: B000OLNEPS
• Average Customer Review: 3.3 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (3 customer reviews)

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1 of 1 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars Rage against the Dying of the Night, May 21, 2007

By 

R. J MOSS (Alice Springs, Australia) - See all my reviews
(REAL NAME)   

This review is from: Three Dog Night (Paperback)

Gifted boy, Martin, from the workingclass burbs breaks into Adelaide's elite circles on a scholarship. Psychiatry chair follows after a ten year stint in London where he wins the heart of the glamorous psych. student the limping Lucy. He returns to Adelaide, beau in matrimonial tow; reaquaints old stomping grounds, prioritsing college buddy, Felix. While Martin has aspired to the elite, Felix, born into gentry and forever a step or so in advance - a status he maintains in death - has been trajecting in the opposite direction,fast-tracking via a stint in a desert community of Australia's vast and sparsley populated, Aboriginal interior; a rebirth at the most exacting cost. From their advent into Felix's Edenically fruited property in the hills, all three are inexorably propelled to the Walpirir country's(in Aboriginal Australia there are many countries recognised by respective marriage groups and language bonds) Budgerigar Dreaming(a small, irridescent green and yellow parrot). Felix gifts Lucy with a painting of the birds' dreaming, made by his Aboriginal 'father'thereby netting her attraction and their unravelling, as surely as the small birds are hard-wired to their 'vaginal' sinkhole in the desert where Felix's grab-bag of Walpiri law and Socratic musings terminate a few months later. By insisting on his arduous fugal trek to the site of the abandoned bugerigar dreaming, Felix makes of his death a sacrificial offering, simultaneously delivering his 'father' his long lifetime's wish, his chauffeur, a Toyata, and his white 'brother', Martin, Eden in the hills and painful self-knowledge through patient insight. At this point, with the imputed confluence of two knowledge systems, you either accept Goldsworthy's concilatory gesture or reject him as an aesthetic dabbler. With the contemporary Australian attitudes, as espoused in the book, Goldsworthy's project is as daring as I have encountered.The romanticised thrall of things Aboriginal, say by Xavier Herbert,is revisited courtesy of viral ethnopornography and the pragmatic entertainment of Aboriginal law. As his wife jumps ship, Martin goes one down, his anger and jealousy swamping his rationality. Now, with her endistanced, a rent and chastened Martin scores the sheet music, biding his time in Eden, whiling through the forbidden fruit of Felixs tobacco stash, thereby keeping him within range. Goldsworthy presents his knowledge with economic grace. Dignifying indigenous Australia and its exquisitely painted landscapes, mineral and vegetable, where carnal breathing and winged beatings resound, this literature is of significant moment. See my site>rodmoss.com for more Aboriginal stuff

3 of 5 people found the following review helpful:

1.0 out of 5 stars Goldsworthy has jumped the shark, April 7, 2006

By 

Trevor Kettlewell "trevsbookreviews" (Nowra, NSW Australia) - See all my reviews
(REAL NAME)   

This review is from: Three Dog Night (Paperback)

Seedy tosh with intellectual pretensions, based on a garish midday movie concept.

But Goldsworthy wouldn't put himself in company with the comparable `Indecent Proposal' - this isn't just about titillation for the punters. I suspect he sees himself as a champion of asking brave questions. However, as with someone about to leap off a roof wearing a superman cape, there's a fine line between brave and stupid.

Oh, and offensive - something that's become his hallmark. He was deliberately, if in a soft-target way, offensive in his `Honk if you are Jesus'. In Felix we have another shallow, bitter turd who, like Mack in KISS, we're somehow meant to find robust and endearing because of the no-nonsense way that they abuse anyone with the foulest language who might try to befriend them; at some point, weirdly, actually using the swearing to show how unaffected these characters are becomes pretentious.

But the real offensiveness comes from his `brave' questions (don't call me stupid). This from the man who thought it was worth reopening this bestiality hangup so many of us mindless conformists seem to have: c'mon, let's get it out there - is having sex with animals really such a bad thing? Sure, I'm all in favour of being aware of the assumptions of one's culture and challenging them where appropriate. You know, it's cool, man, for teenagers to question their parents and the values they've been handed - but incredibly stupid if they just throw the lot away. Sure everyone's old man has got a few blind spots, but it's not that likely that they have got everything totally wrong. So, call me a hide bound conservative if you like, but if somebody throws up the question, "Um, is it OK to get with a baboon," I've got no qualms at all in saying, "No." Some questions actually have answers, and even if the answers have been around for a while they might still be right.

So what's our challenge in Three Dog Night? Well, you know all this stuff about fidelity, trust, marriage, intimacy - could that all be a con? But this isn't just the old playboy philosophy: Goldworthy would probably rather see himself as Peter Singer than Peter Swinger (ugh! Puns can turn up in the strangest places). No he deliberately pulls out a formula dream couple so we know it's a profound issue he's addressing, and not some standard Jerry Springer (no, not Singer or Swinger) style ugly infidelity from people with the loyalty and self-control of an insect. So here's our discussion topic around the table: devil's advocate Goldsworthy says, maybe this `forsaking all others til death do us part' thing is a crock. And then he falls back on the standard dodgy technique of trying to create one exception to justify a raft of clearly unjustifiable actions.

But, blimey, his extreme case argument is embarrassingly weak. "What if somebody's got cancer and they fancy your wife." Well, gee, Pete, that's a real stumper. What would I do if a mate of mine had a terminal disease, and as part of his palliative care asked if he could borrow my Mrs for a while. And not just for sex, no, you could get a prostitute for that: no, straight up, it's for intimacy because, you know, he's really in love with her.

Riiiiiight. Well, I think after less than a second's careful deliberation I'd come back with the sensitive response, "Keep your goddam hands off my wife." Really, is that the best he can come up with? "It's not just for sex." Oh, that's OK then - it's not like I'd have a problem if my wife turned to someone else for a special intimate sexual relationship, just so long as it wasn't just the sex, and maybe they didn't actually make the beast with two backs. Pete, betrayal in a relationship does not merely mean intercourse.

Whatever, I dumped the book a little over half-way with the supposedly intelligent couple agonising over a dead simple question as if it was Schr?dinger's cat. What does Goldsworthy want me and my wife to do: to start wondering seriously if it's really wise and compassionate if I lend her out, and she lends herself out, now and then to anyone who might be infatuated by her - just as long as they've got a terminal disease (and a vicious tongue). How does this even start to be a dilemma? Uh, I heard the question, the answer is no. That would be a betrayal of trust. Maybe we can hang out together, but, gee, who would have thought it, I don't want you hitting on my wife - even if you are sick. Like that's the only valid compassionate response. Sheesh, give me a break - yet super-intelligent hyper-insightful respected straw-man idiot psychologist Martin is left speechless: "Oh, um, well, I suppose you should go off together on a holiday without me. Nothing else for it really." And supposedly wise and sharp and equally in love Lucy just resignedly being handed around to unquestionably vile Felix as comfort woman. Give. Me. A. Break.

Do I dare risk a Goldsworthy again? I loved Maestro, but maybe I shouldn't read it again through the ugly lens of his later work. There's nothing of that sort of charm or honesty in this book. There are some Australian references, but they felt contrived. Like I said, I dumped this just before the trip - maybe I missed something better (not hard) later, but I seriously doubt it - the whole premise of the book just stank. I have really liked some of the authentic people in other books of his, Australians I could recognise - but the company here is just plain unpleasant. I've tried - c'mon, to pick up a book of his after the appalling Wish shows enormous faith and forgiveness - but I think it's moved beyond not agreeing with his `brave' questions. I think Goldsworthy has shrunk, he doesn't even seem to be good company any more.

1 of 2 people found the following review helpful:

4.0 out of 5 stars An Australian master, October 19, 2006

By 

New York reader "Sara" - See all my reviews

This review is from: Three Dog Night (Paperback)

I, like many, have been a fan of Peter Goldsworthy since 'Maestro,' and Three Dog Night did not disappoint. This is by no means an easy read, and it does tackle some difficult issues, issues to which some readers might take offence (see previous review). But to me, Goldsworthy's insight into his characters is the work of someone who is a master of their craft. His depiction of the Australian landscape is superb, and his prose, to me, is something to be admired.

Goldsworthy is one of those Australian novelists whose books I always look for as soon as they are released - like Kate Grenville, Tim Winton, and Peter Carey.