ponycanyon's review against another edition
3.0
Nilsen is one of the most hyped of the younger generation of comic guys, but there's simply no representative work yet that encapsulates why. Dogs and Water is certainly atmospheric and moody - the lone protagonist wanders a vaguely post-apocalyptic landscape with his stuffed bear companion, occasionally finding bodies, wreckage, and wild animals - but there's no story to speak of, only stark and minimal images. And like Lilli Carre's equally vibe-soaked but ultimately empty "The Lagoon," the whole thing ends as soon as it gets started.
levitybooks's review
3.0
Desolate, utterly desolate.
Anders Nilsen's take on Cormac McCarthy's The Road.
Would have been more affecting if the character had a clearer struggle, goal or love, but I don't think that would have fit Nilsen's style.
Anders Nilsen's take on Cormac McCarthy's The Road.
Would have been more affecting if the character had a clearer struggle, goal or love, but I don't think that would have fit Nilsen's style.
katemilty's review
4.0
I love Anders Nilsen. I think more often than not, when reading his books, the appreciation you feel for the author all arrives in a rush at the end. This book, like Monologues for the Coming Plague, was just like that. Even better, I read it in a day. Now that's instant gratification when it comes to reading.
gilmoreghoul's review
4.0
Wish I could rate this a 3.5. Loved the illustrations and the emptiness of the whole thing but part of me wishes it was a little longer. This is the first thing I've read of Nilsen but will definitely look into the rest of his stuff.
library_brandy's review
4.0
It's like a dreamy comics version of The Road. He's on a journey to nowhere in particular, surrounded by nothing, and his company is a stuffed teddy bear who is encouraging him to go on even when he thinks--knows--it's pointless. A bleak but excellent story.
dkai's review
3.0
I found this to be less compelling than other works from Nilsen due to the short length (though that may be better for some people). Nilsen tends to wander and explore within a space, which allows his giant magnum opus to be his best work. This short work contains similar elements and plenty of good stuff (though plenty here means plenty of bleak paucity), but I never got to the point where I felt immersed in the journey.
pattydsf's review
3.0
It is hard to say that I read this book. There are not words on many of the pages. So I feel like I looked at the story rather than read it and while looking I may not have seen everything that I should have. Apparently I am not alone in my bewilderment. The Washington Post reviewer wrote (this book) "will leave you wondering if you've read a book or walked through a dream".
The tale lasts less than 100 pages with two main characters on a journey. I wanted to say that there wasn't much action, but that is not true. I usually say that I read to discover new worlds and this was a very new world for me. I just did not understand what was going on. I do have to say that the book has stuck with me and I keep thinking about the meaning of the drawings.
I recommend this book to those who are interested in expanding their reading horizons; to folk who like open-ended tales and to all who like reading graphic novels.
The tale lasts less than 100 pages with two main characters on a journey. I wanted to say that there wasn't much action, but that is not true. I usually say that I read to discover new worlds and this was a very new world for me. I just did not understand what was going on. I do have to say that the book has stuck with me and I keep thinking about the meaning of the drawings.
I recommend this book to those who are interested in expanding their reading horizons; to folk who like open-ended tales and to all who like reading graphic novels.
xterminal's review
4.0
Anders Nilsen, Dogs and Water (Drawn and Quarterly, 2007)
Dogs and Water is quite unlike any other graphic novel I've ever run across; if you turn your head and squint right, it's got a bit of Renee French running through it, but without a shred of the absurdity French brings to her wonderful little books. Or Shaun Tan without the fantasy elements, or the hope. Nilsen (Monologues for the Coming Plague) has crafted something here that's deeply depressing, lonely, and yet compelling enough that once you've cracked the cover, you'll end up reading it in one sitting, wondering just what the hell is going on, but not really caring all that much whether anything actually is.
The plot involves a guy with a stuffed bear tied to his knapsack wandering through what seems to be the Alaskan tundra. (You'll understand why I assume this is Alaska about halfway through the book.) The bear is his only companion, and he holds conversations with it. Does this make him lonely, or mentally unstable? We have no idea. He's definitely paranoid, despite the animals he runs across being generally friendly. Soon enough he runs out of food, and his wandering becomes increasingly desperate as he searches for more.
Yeah, that's pretty much it, though there is a climax to it (I don't really want to spoil what happens in the final third of the book, but Nilsen does a fantastic job of setting it all up). It's a very cold, one-man Waiting for Godot, perhaps. Yes, I'm still trying to find something to compare it to, and the fact that nothing really fits is a mark in the book's favor. You will have no idea what it is Anders Nilsen is on about here, but most likely it won't matter one bit. This is a glorious nightmare, a vicarious depression, and it deserves your attention. *** ½
Dogs and Water is quite unlike any other graphic novel I've ever run across; if you turn your head and squint right, it's got a bit of Renee French running through it, but without a shred of the absurdity French brings to her wonderful little books. Or Shaun Tan without the fantasy elements, or the hope. Nilsen (Monologues for the Coming Plague) has crafted something here that's deeply depressing, lonely, and yet compelling enough that once you've cracked the cover, you'll end up reading it in one sitting, wondering just what the hell is going on, but not really caring all that much whether anything actually is.
The plot involves a guy with a stuffed bear tied to his knapsack wandering through what seems to be the Alaskan tundra. (You'll understand why I assume this is Alaska about halfway through the book.) The bear is his only companion, and he holds conversations with it. Does this make him lonely, or mentally unstable? We have no idea. He's definitely paranoid, despite the animals he runs across being generally friendly. Soon enough he runs out of food, and his wandering becomes increasingly desperate as he searches for more.
Yeah, that's pretty much it, though there is a climax to it (I don't really want to spoil what happens in the final third of the book, but Nilsen does a fantastic job of setting it all up). It's a very cold, one-man Waiting for Godot, perhaps. Yes, I'm still trying to find something to compare it to, and the fact that nothing really fits is a mark in the book's favor. You will have no idea what it is Anders Nilsen is on about here, but most likely it won't matter one bit. This is a glorious nightmare, a vicarious depression, and it deserves your attention. *** ½