Fifteen Dogs (book)

Fifteen Dogs (Written by André Alexis)/2015

This is a gem of a book by Toronto based writer André Alexis. One day the gods Apollo and Hermes have a bet: what if dogs had the intelligence of humans? Will they be happier? The two wage a bet for a year of servitude on whether any of them would die happy. 

What follows is both a sweet and hilarious account of fifteen dogs building a small civilisation. Initially, from my anthropocentric perspective, the novel seemed like an existentialist satire. These dogs were a metaphor for the human condition. When the dogs gain intelligence and become self-aware, they realise they are no longer like other dogs. Some try to maintain their old way of life because they feel that it is not ‘natural’ to be who they are. Others go on to philosophise, recite poetry, ponder about the world, get into politics: everything I would associate with natural human behaviour. 

On further reading however I realised that humans and dogs are not that different. As absurd as that may sound, to me the novel attempts to shine light on the significance of our co-existence with other animals. So it is still an existential satire but concerns existence of all living things. It is a simple story but its effect is profound; it changes the way you consider animals and in turn, animal rights. 

Animal rights discussions generally involve philosophical arguments based on virtue ethics or utilitarianism. I believe it’s difficult to produce sincere and consistent action based on pure logical formation of arguments. At the end of the day what engages people as well as logic is an emotional connection. Alexis’ novel does just that. It invokes an emotional understanding by pointing out that animals also share our vulnerability in the face of the uncertainty of the world; space, time and death. It is so simple and brilliant! 

I also found it ridiculously cute that all the poems are written in a way so that dogs can understand when read out loud. You'll have to read the epilogue to understand how that works but it is quite a fascinating concept. 

So why did the author focus on dogs rather than other animals? I wasn’t sure whether Alexis thought that dogs were the easiest comparison to humans as “man’s best friend” or whether he thought that dogs were more special than other animals. I don’t think the latter is likely. It doesn’t seem consistent to narrow it down to one type of an animal when the point, it seems to me, is to broaden our perspective beyond ourselves. All in all, I loved this book so much and I cannot recommend this highly enough. It would certainly be an excellent summer read.

Mississippi Grind (film)

Mississippi Grind (Directed by Ryan Fleck and Anna Boden)/2015

Mississippi Grind is a film that looks at a chance encounter between two men and how it unfolds as the pair goes on an adventure. Curtis (Ryan Reynolds) is fun, outgoing, handsome and charismatic. Gerry (Ben Mendelsohn) is meek, quiet, suspicious and seems tired. They have one thing in common and that is gambling. However, for Curtis gambling is a means to an end, to live comfortably without having to commit to employment;  he leads a nomadic life between various relationships and locations.

For Gerry, gambling is IT. It has consumed him completely; he has no family or friends although it seems that he used to.  He is paralysed by thoughts of gambling or getting money to gamble. Gerry takes no pleasure in material wealth resulting from gambling nor any other aspects of life.  Ben Mendelsohn does a stirling job of portraying this shameful and miserable (yet vulnerable) character.

Curtis is both shocked and disturbed as he realises the extent to which Gerry is crazed about gambling but by then he has invested too much to simply walk away. The film shows how insidious and destructive gambling addiction can be: we find out, bit by bit, how Gerry has been engulfed by it .  At the same time Curtis is confused at the lack of such focus and determination in his own life.

It is a devastatingly sad situation and the only person that fails to realise that is Gerry. The two are driven by the rush of gambling as well as the excitement of the new relationship, without history, grudge or past debts. As gamblers usually do, Curtis and Gerry get driven by the thought of the final win that will “solve” all of their problems. Whether that actually happens or not is another story.

Mississippi Grind is a film that explores the high of gambling. It is not done in a judgemental way though; rather it seems to want to display all aspects of gambling behaviour via various means and style. For some, it becomes their life - their religion. For others ‘it’s just a job’ as they say.

We're constantly told to have "passion" in life or a "goal", and I was weirdly awe struck about the intensity of fixation in this behavioural addiction of gambling, thinking what achievements could be gained from such tireless drive!  Mississippi Grind walks the fine line in exposing both its force and its demonic aftermath.  It far exceeded my expectations and contrasted with the rather cheesy poster. I'd definitely count it as one of my highlights of this year.

Barry Lyndon (film)

Barry Lyndon by Stanley Kubrick was the first film I loved. It was the first time I watched a film and repeated scenes on YouTube for pure aesthetic joy. Some of the scenes are so beautiful that they stand alone as pieces of art in their own right without needing to be appreciated in the context of a story. In a way, some scenes can be appreciated as if they were videos to the Schubert tracks that play in the background; music that never had videos but is deserving of something as special as what Kubrick had to offer.

The aesthetic of the film was so important to Kubrick that he had to get a special camera lenses from NASA that would work with candle-light. Only candle-light could capture the realities of 18th century lighting and provide something delicate and haunting enough to make the visual statement that Kubrick was after.

The story is about a rogue opportunist called Redmond Barry. Barry comes from the countryside of Ireland and through a series of adventures and devious activities he manages to move from relative poverty into the highest echelons of European society. Redmond becomes Barry Lyndon: his successful, cultured, socialite alter-ego.

Lyndon however is shown to be much worse at keeping money and maintaining an aristocratic lifestyle than gaining one. He is never truly accepted by elite society, who are happy to use him to achieve their ends but never sees him as an equal. The film highlights how joining the aristocratic society entails much more than simply having money; we see the saddening state of a character that cares about nothing other than achieving success in a game that requires being something different to his true nature. Lyndon achieves the wealth of an aristocrat but keeps the character and manners of a farmer boy from Ireland, and for him and most of the people around him, that is abhorrent.

Lurking in the background of the film is the light that exists beyond the darkness of human exploits. Somewhere beyond or between the wars, deceit, greed and suffering, a divine power exists and watches. We sense that a higher power is always there, making a mockery of the comical self-interest of a humanity that fails to notice that something more powerful always exists on a plane of reality where material accumulation means nothing. Kubrick achieves this effect with light: pure, natural light. Kubrick makes a statement on humanity’s place within a higher kind of existence without saying anything about it; the message is made purely with aesthetics. This is truly a great philosophical movie argued through subtle and gorgeous aesthetic symbolism.