ETNA, not what you think no matter what you think you're thinking

ETNA
PAUL YOON
Scribner (non-affiliate Bookshop.org link)
$14.99 ebook, available now

Rating: 4.5* of five

The Publisher Says: Beloved author and winner of The Story Prize, Paul Yoon, is back with the unforgettable story of a working dog, Etna, who, after a devastating war, embarks on an odyssey in the hopes of returning home.

Set in a fictional country in the present day, this is a story told through the eyes of an ex-military dog, Etna. After surviving years of a devastating war, Etna decides one night to leave the men he has fought alongside for years and return home—to the place where he was taken from when he was young, in the thin but persistent hope that if a home exists for him, it might be there.

Thus begins an exhilarating odyssey told through the eyes of a dog as he traverses across ruined landscapes and fights to survive in a world that, even in peacetime, proves to be just as precarious. Along the way, he encounters other animals and humans who are attempting to figure out how to start again. What makes a life when there is no home to go back to? How do we begin to trust each other again after such profound loss?

This is a novel about the power of an idea, about never giving up, and ultimately a novel about finding hope in the most dire of times.

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My Review: Etna...volcano...Sicily's demi-Vesuvius.

No, Etna is a bright, sweet-tempered puppy whose evident cleverness gets him selected to assist the American troops in their conduct of war. Set in his homeland as it's destroyed, a woman with a gift of speaking after a fashion to animals' minds identifies this lovely creature as a helper for human destroyers. Named after the volcano by an American soldier, Etna's trained to be a mine-sniffing dog. He renders aid and saves lives to the best of his ability...and he's good at his job...until the war around him shifts.

Etna's alert, oriented, and intelligent. He makes his own mind up to leave the soldiers he's served, served with really, to go home. It's part of the story's charm that by them we've accepted Etna as our narrator, as an entity with thoughts and feelings and interiority we can invest in. He perceives the damaged soldiers around him, senses as any dog would the way they've changed with a dog's emotional sensitivity to people. As Etna leaves the soldiers' world behind he heads to wherever his memory says is home through a landscape he does not recognize, peopled by scarred, violent survivors.

A large part of the decision to invest in Etna's journey comes as we-the-reader settle into Author Yoon's pared-down narrative voice, unornamented while remaining emotionally evocative and visually rich. It makes sense that it would be this combination of traits because dogs perceive the world at an angle to human perceptions, which must somehow be conveyed to human readers in a way that makes sense to them. Had, for example, Author Yoon chosen to convey Etna's perceptions through smells it would fall flat. Humans barely have a sense of smell. (I myownself think that's an adaptation so we can live in cities....)

As Etna lives through destruction by making his mind up to get home, he interacts with the other animals around him in ways that feel natural by the time we get there narratively. Author Yoon does not put thoughts of literally incredible complexity into animals' perceptions. That makes the fact they're animals go down easier, makes the observations and perceptions make sense in their context. A good touch of realistic world-building is how only one human is ever shown communicating with Etna in a magically clear way. Etna's other interactions with humans feel sharp, clear, but never direct and magically clear; it's how I see dogs and intelligent sensitive people interacting daily as my neighborhood has a good-sized canine population.

The story takes place mostly in the aftermath of war so there is a lot of devastation in Etna's homebound path. A lot changes in a creature that survives violence by committing violence. In Etna's case he doesn't attack others but he defends himself and those he serves by necessary means. It will disturb you as you read the story. It is never gratuitous or prolonged for effect. Using Etna for a PoV character allows Author Yoon to present violence and consequences realistically resonant on the emotional level without lingering in the trauma left behind. Etna rediscovers human lovingkindness when he meets Hong and his doctor/partner, determinedly helping their fellow countrymen recover from wounds and diseases they never needed to suffer but for war coming to their world from outside.

In the summer of 2026, defined in good part by Christopher Nolan's retelling of The Odyssey, Paul Yoon hit a cultural jackpot by reimagining a homegoing quest in a unique way. That he did so successfully will, I strongly hope, boost this tight, compact, deeply moving story of a dog who needs to rediscover his purpose after war to the sales heights it deserves.

THE TORTOISE'S TALE, Kendra Coulter's promising debut novel

THE TORTOISE'S TALE
KENDRA COULTER
Simon & Schuster (non-affiliate Bookshop.org link)
$14.99 ebook, available now

Rating: 3.75* of five

The Publisher Says: A century of American history unfolds through the eyes of a giant tortoise with a heightened awareness for live music, the location of edible flowers, and the nuances of human behavior in this spellbinding debut novel.

Snatched from her ancestral lands, a giant tortoise finds herself in an exclusive estate in southern California where she becomes an astute observer of societal change. Her journey is one of discovery, as she learns to embrace the music of jazz and the warmth of human connection.

The tortoise’s story is enriched by her bond with Takeo, the estate’s gardener, who sees her as a being with thoughts and feelings, not just a creature to be observed. The tortoise’s mind and heart are further expanded by Lucy, a young girl who names the tortoise Magic and shares a friendship that transcends species. Together, they witness the estate’s transformation into a haven for industry titans, politicians, and rock stars, each leaving their mark on the world and on Magic’s heart.

The tortoise embraces her role as a muse with gusto and witnesses how diverse human harmonies and the mighty winds of social change both uplift people and tear them apart. Over the course of her lifetime, the estate changes ownership, bringing raucous Hollywood parties, and animals both familiar and unexpected. There are also threats, as the estate’s idyll is not immune to the ravages of a damaged planet. Through each era, the tortoise remains a refreshingly honest, humble, and endearing narrator whose unique vantage point illuminates the transcendent power of compassion, the unexpected connections that shape how we see ourselves and each other, and the wide-reaching effects of choice—or the lack thereof.

The Tortoise’s Tale is a whimsical yet profound exploration of humanity’s entangled journey, a call to recognize the interconnectedness of all life, and the potential for healing. Kendra Coulter’s debut novel is a moving portrait of resilience and hope, perfect for fans of Shelby Van Pelt’s Remarkably Bright Creatures.

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My Review: I enjoyed Remarkably Bright Creatures, follow the link to see why. I'm glad to say this iteration of what could be a cutesy-poo little tropey read was instead fun, funny, and involving.

The fun for me comes from being inside a long-lived animal's head...I think it behooves us all to at least contemplate a moment how the world might look to the truly Other, like animals. No, we can't know with certainty we're remotely correct. No there's little likelihood we'll ever hear another's inner monologue. There's a reason it's called fiction. Making an attempt to exit your cage, imposed by biology, culture, and sheer cussedness, is worthwhile anyway.

A major trope in the story is how the author imparts a sense of time passing to a creature whose life, and pace of living, are at such variance with our own. The tortoise, who has multiple "names" that are really labels imposed by the humans that surround her, notices human music with greater or lesser pleasure, so we have time-signposts in our reading. I was interested in this because I am really tickled by the idea of a musically inclined tortoise for some reason.

The sharp observations of time as it passes aren't really believable, to be honest; I don't imagine a tortoise notices us too much. I went with it because it made really good points about the rate of change occurring in the world, without being focused on the causes of them...guaranteed to light off a flare of angry outrage in some. Missing that element, we just see how it feels to a creature with different perceptions, more ground-level ones. It worked well as a technique.

The flipside of that narrative choice is a, well, contemplative pace. We're moving at a tortoise's pace of attention, in a tortoise's cone of perception. People, animals, the world all move much faster than her attention. It means we're seeing out of sync, out of stereo vision, like we're used to. I found that slightly off-putting as a reader, and very well-deployed to slow my rushing mind as a reviewer. I saw the point, I get the joke, and still it felt like I needed to make an investment that I was not always in the mood to make. I couldn't quite justify a full fourth star because of it.

A very good read, but be aware of its stately pace when deciding about its place on your TBR. I will say I think it deserves one.