The use of animals in Alexandra Leggat’s Animal reminded me of a film called Wings of Desire, in which Berlin is populated by angels who may observe, but never participate in, human activity. Of course, here these creatures are not nearly as benevolent (“have you ever heard of anyone trying to reason with a pigeon?”), but in both cases, we have an artist casting eyesight onto the business of mortal humans. Eyes not invisible, but doomed to be ignored. Within one story called “Apples and Rum,” I counted horses, dogs, goats, hawks, and hens, mostly incidental to the tale of a faltering marriage, but oh, what things these animals could tell us about ourselves!

Leggat’s stories are usually slim on plot, focusing instead on the complicated interactions of we, the people, in ill-fitting environments. Like the things that live in holes and hollows and caves, the characters are in a state of permanent displacement, expected to settle down but rarely finding such a thing to be a desired end. Domestic nomads. They are often confronted by the failure of family. They often dream about, and romanticize, the past, not because it was a happier time, but because it held the hope of happier times ahead.

As a writer, Leggat finds her balance between description, character, and narrative, with assurance that one may not reign over others. What I mean is, there are few Dickens-aping, tedious recitals of environment, though she is given to the occasional poetic indulgence. Although potentially melodramatic (I wouldn’t recommend either author or reader to imagine these stories acted out), the tales are haunting as they lie on the page.

One of the best stories in the collection, “Mandible,” could be considered indicative of the rest. Two friends, avid fishermen, sit at the edge of the water. One has led a seemingly successful life: family, professional achievements. The other has followed dutifully behind. A sharp sickness towards the sport has grown in the mind of the pro, which he cures through a final dance between man and water. As it always goes, family does not cure. Success does not satisfy. Happiness is always intangible.

Animal is ultimately, I suppose, about transition, even the invisible kind. You’ll live a long life, reach many crossroads, but will you always see that fork for what it is? It may look like a division in time, or maybe just any old Sunday afternoon, when everything could (or should) change forever. With Animal, Leggat captures those moments tightly in a snare.

ANIMAL
Alexandra Leggat
Anvil Press
160 pages
$18.00

Staff writer Jesse Skinner tackles anything and everything thrown his way but has a natural bent for film, music and current events.