Having read author Anita Diamant’s controversial first novel, The Red Tent, I didn’t know quite what to expect from her latest effort, The Last Days of Dogtown (and, before I continue: no, it has nothing to do with Z-boys or skating culture). I knew it was about a group of misfits living in a small New England town back in the day. But would it have the same passionate quality and dark undertones as that of its counterpart?
No. It does not. The language, characters and stories are understated and sparse, much like its rugged setting. A distinctive New England ethos pervades the pages, and while The Last Days of Dogtown lacks the same intense drama that made The Red Tent so memorable, this novel more than makes up for it in its characters and sense of place.
The book recounts the stories of the last few remaining residents of a dwindling village in the early 19th century inhabited by widows, orphans, drunkards, spinsters, outcasts, philanderers and so-called witches. Diamant tells their stories giving insight into their backgrounds, aspirations, motivations and hidden desires. You meet sweet and lonely Judy Rhines, who pines for her first and only love Cornelius Finson, a mysterious and reserved “African”. There’s Easter Carter, who owns the largest house in Dogtown and operates an informal tavern, and Black Ruth, aka John Woodsman, the reticent female stonemason who dresses as a man and boards in Ruth’s attic.
You also hear the story of the town’s madame Mrs. Stanley, the two pathetic prostitutes she keeps, Molly and Sally, her enterprising, ambitious charge Sammy Stanley and her pimp of sorts, the violent alcoholic John Stanwood. And then there’s Oliver Younger and his bitter, ornery aunt Tammy. Indeed Oliver’s story happens to be the only truly happy one in the entire novel. Happiness being a rare commodity in Dogtown.
In her Author’s Note, Diamant implies that she was inspired with the idea after reading a pamphlet and then doing some subsequent research on an actual hamlet once known as Dogtown which has since long perished. She writes, “⿦the death of a village, even one as poor and small as Dogtown, is not an altogether trivial thing. Surely there was value in the quiet lives lived among those boulders⿦”