A Dog's Purpose by W. Bruce Cameron

My dog is a chocolate Lab named Ruby. We adopted her into our family when she was four years old. Now she is eight and a half years old, and she has changed every one of us in the family in ways we could not have imagined. She is the first dog for all five of the human members of our family and taught us everything we know about dogs. Before my relationship with Ruby, I would have found Cameron's book about dogs overly sentimental and exaggerated in its depictions of dog psychology. Now, thanks to Ruby's wisdom and depth, I can accept the protagonist of this book and the premise that dogs understand us in many ways better than we understand ourselves. The protagonist/narrator of this book is a dog who lives several lives, each time finding a new purpose and accomplishing some notable achievement. Each time the dear dog dies, I cried, because I am not a heartless scoundrel, and because it seemed that each life represented a worthy endeavor to live with authenticity and love. Each new life, then, had me wondering how the dog could possibly do any better or feel any more fulfilled, and each go-round the author brings another component into play. By the end, when this dog has realized canine nirvana, I knew that I was right about my own dog: Ruby loves me completely, she wants nothing more from life than playing, eating, and walking...all at my side. Every minute we are together she is satisfied, and every minute we are apart, she is waiting for us to be together. Cat lovers may scoff, but our dogs recognize that part of our humanity which we may sometimes doubt or lose. This is the protagonist Cameron writes, one unafraid to love, unabashed in devotion, better than husband, Mom, or best friend. Only a dog-lover could get it...and, evidently, many of them have. I know bandwagons aren't cool, but neither am I. And my dog loves me anyhow.

A Mercy by Toni Morrison

The book opens with Florens telling her story from the beginning of her memory: "A confession, if you like." It ends with the answers to her longing, the full explanation for her life. Toni Morrison writes again about slavery and motherhood, about those events that call us into life and force us into death. She creates distinctive voices for each of the three enslaved girls, Florens, Lina, and Sorrow, that express the depth of humanity within each. The unconventional usage she chooses for Florens, especially, compels us to hear her story as urgently as she tells it. Florens is haunted by her story, and by bringing it to us, she is haunting us with it as well.

Florens is African, Lina is American Indian, and Sorrow is Caucasian. Each has her story, each her past, each a longing for friendship, motherhood, or daughterhood that drives her more deeply into herself. Only as others come into their lives are these longings known and fulfilled. Toni Morrison writes about the institution of slavery in the 1600's in North America, but by her choice of ethnicity for her characters and by the extension of their suffering, we recognize that slavery is more than a problem relating to a single race. We see that slavery binds a spirit, and freedom transcends bondage.

In theme and style, this book feels more like Paradise than Beloved, but in A Mercy Morrison's depictions of violations of humanity are not so detailed nor so soul-ripping. When I read Beloved, I thought my shredded heart would never be the same, and I was right. Paradise moved such horrors into other settings, making them more ordinary and therefore more terrifying. A Mercy brings us more gently into the story, and allows us to read ourselves there.