Sharp Teeth [Paperback]

An ancient race of lycanthropes survives in modern L.A., and its numbers are growing as the pack converts the city's downtrodden into their fold. Stuck in the middle are a local dog-catcher and the woman he loves, whose secret past haunts her as she fights a bloody one woman battle to save their relationship.

If you had told me earlier this year that I would read an entire novel that was written in free verse I would have laughed in your face. If you told me I was going to enjoy it, there is a good chance I would have fallen from my chair. I should try to explain. I don't have much of a relationship with poetry; in fact, I don't read any at all. In the past I have tried, I've been sent poetry collections to review and epically failed to form any sort of attachment with the text. With this thought in mind, you can imagine my surprise when I started reading Sharp Teeth and I not only liked it, but was utterly engrossed.

Toby Barlow really seems to have captured the primal nature of the pack with his writing. It also seems such a logical fit to compare the gangs of Los Angeles and their culture with the pack mentality of wolves; both groups seem to behave in such a similar manner. The different werewolf packs prey upon lonely individuals who live on the periphery of the city's society.

There are two characters that made Sharp Teeth for me. Firstly there is Anthony, the dog catcher. His story is the emotional heart of the novel. He is utterly destroyed by the events that take place in his narrative and his journey was totally compelling. Anthony is just a simple man who thinks he has found the missing piece of his life only for it to be ripped away from him. I was unprepared for how affecting the highs and lows he lives through would be.

The other character that stood out was Lark, the leader of the first pack the reader meets. He is an alpha male in every respect, the very antithesis of Anthony. Lark continually attempts to think three steps ahead of all his enemies. He has plans within plans and it was always interesting to follow him as he spends vast chunks of the novel trying to keep these various plates spinning. He goes undercover at one point and it was great to see how Barlow easily adapted Lark's character and how Lark functioned differently in wolf form. Lark celebrates being a werewolf; he revels in his dual life. To him being a werewolf is almost a religious experience. He is entirely at peace with his place in the universe. It was nice to see a character that bucked the trend of the traumatized, haunted loner.

Sharp Teeth proved to be a bit of a bit of a revelation. The text had an almost hypnotic quality and a naturally flowing cadence that made it difficult to pull myself away. There is a wealth of vivid imagery and language that will stay with me for quite some time.

This is a modern, insightful story that breathes new life into the werewolf mythos and I can't recommend it highly enough. Based on this experience, I'll certainly be less dismissive of poetry in future. Seek this novel out and read it, you can thank me later.

This is an extraordinary book. I sat down with it and devoured it in one sitting and then came up for air, feeling as though I had been savaged.

It is written in verse, but it's a very free verse which doesn't intrude upon the reader, and after a few minutes it is easy to forget that the lines don't run to the edge of the page. The language is familiar and direct, and causes no complications. Having said that, the writing has all the power and concentration of good narrative poetry. Though the story is hard-bitten, it is the verse that really packs the punch. And what a punch!

This is a werewolf novel. Whatever instinct it was that made Toby Barlow think of writing a werewolf novel in verse, it was a good one: the book works spectacularly well. It works because verse can do something that prose can't. It can concentrate feeling and cut straight to the essentials. In 'Sharp Teeth' it goes for the jugular and doesn't let go. There's no messing around here, no unnecessary detail, no asides or elaborate descriptions, no self-indulgence, just a bitter narrative as straight and as powerful as they come

'Sharp Teeth' doesn't trade on the magical or mysterious. It's a werewolf novel told in a realistic style. Its characters and settings are modern and recognisable. Its passions, although they run high and wild, stay within the bounds of ordinary human experience.

Yet, like any good werewolf novel, it's full of a savage sensuality: it's vicious and it's violent. It reeks of blood, eroticism and desire. It looks at the passions that bind people together and drive them apart. It looks at the tension between the individual and the pack. And driving all this is a powerful undercurrent of unfulfilled need and animal frustration.

The book uses the werewolf story to examine the hard, gritty realities of modern urban life: sex, jealousy, survival, competition, status, the need to keep one step ahead. It looks unflinchingly at the dehumanising power of the modern social environment. And yet, in an emotional landscape where there is not much warmth or compassion, it tells a deeply compassionate tale.

Oh, and there's a darn good story line in there, too.

With all the Twilight-fodder out there, one might forget that there are contemporary (Young) Adult books about werewolves and other assorted fantastic content, that are actually worth reading for more than the guilty pleasure of a `fantastic love story' that lovelorn maidens seem to be interested in these days. One of these books is Toby Barlow's debut Sharp Teeth. The book deals with packs of lycanthropes (werewolves) who are not only battling each other, but who're also planning to take over Los Angeles, with each pack having a different strategy to reach that goal. The originality of Barlow's novel is that it's written in free verse. Now, for someone who's not interested in poetry or heroic epics, this might sound like a hard read, potentially boring even. However, the language Barlow uses is so strong and captivating, that at every step of the way it feels as if you're reading a noir thriller. "Poetry is a way of taking life by the throat". This Robert Frost quote is the motto of the book, and that's what this book does in more ways than one.

Barlow weaves different subplots together like the best auteur (the movie references are never far away in this book, by the way, and you can easily see how it could be another Sin City - Barlow himself refers to it as "a graphic novel without the pictures") . The story starts with Anthony Silvo, a self-professed dogcatcher who falls in love with a mysterious woman. She leads a second life as a lycanthrope, working for Lark, the leader of a pack of dogs. Her growing feelings for Anthony makes her regret choices she made in the past. Lark suspects that competing packs of lycanthropes are after his power and he prepares for battle (leading an undercover dog's life (as Buddy) with Bonnie, who fondly scratches his ears every evening...). Other subplots include detective Peabody's investigation into murders which are clearly dog-related; underground bridge tournaments tied to the LA drug trade; and Baron's tale of betrayal.

As I said, the language reveals great artistry, but at the same time, it never feels contrived or self-conscious (there's nothing worse than a writer who knows he's writing a good book and feels smug about his writing skills). On the contrary, for every violent outburst (of both the language and the ahum...dogs), there's an ironic and sometimes even laugh-out-loud joke hidden beneath the words (notice the names of the characters, for example, or dogs loving tacos and other fried food, anyone?)
Highly recommended is the accompanying website, which brings out the humor of the book even more (watch the Public Service Announcement!).

Though the book is by no means perfect (the end feels somewhat sudden for some of the characters in the book), Toby Barlow is definitely a writer to watch.