Summary
CONFESSION time. I've never read a word by Canadian novelist Patrick Lane and the way his debut novel Red Dog, Red Dog was introduced - "you can tell it's written by a poet within the first few paragraphs" - didn't make me want to. In my experience, this isn't always the recommendation it is thought to be.
If that's a prejudice, it's one Lane overturned in seconds. His great blessing, he revealed, was to grow up in a land - the high wildernesses of southern British Columbia, an area half the size of Europe yet unwritten about in poetry or fiction - where a 15-minute walk from his village would take him face-to-face with animals who had never seen human beings.See the full content of this document
Extract
Book Festival Reviews: Lane Moving in New Direction
For most of his adult life apart from the past ten years (he's 70), Lane has been an alcoholic. That doesn't seem to ha...
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