Black Dog (Black Dog, #1)

by Rachel Neumeier

[layawaydragon]

Pros:
Rich, original world-building
Dynamic, compelling, racially diverse cast of characters who grow over time
Surprising, absorbing plot that has it all: action, drama, adventure, romance, without holes
Ending’s unexpected, leaves nothing undone, satisfying
Writing is descriptively beautiful but light
Voices & perspectives ring distinct, and true
Free of the typical YA tropes: insta-love triangles


Cons:
Villain’s rather bland Big Bad
If girls can be black dogs, why can’t boys be Pure? It’s an absurd dichotomy, which reinforces the gender binary. No diversity on that front or sexuality either.
Not a purity culture or forced mating for life at 16 fan but it's realistic pack behavior.

Rating Details: 4 ½ stars meaning perfect, except for sensible but squicky cultural differences that broke immersion. Vanhausel the Villain is terrifying but his characterization’s flat.

Recommendation: for everyone because its hype is richly deserved. Especially young adult, paranormal, or fantasy fans. If looking for casting not lily-white or a unique werewolf world, you’ve found the right book.

I first heard of Black Dog from Bones, Books & Buffy when Tammy’s review1 popped into my inbox. I marked that email as important and unread, worried about forgetting it among my to-read list. Then #WeNeedDiverseBooks recommended it, which immediately boosted its status to next in line.

Natividad Toland is a Pure while her twin, Miguel, is human. Protected by an older brother, Alejandro’s a different breed altogether: black dog. They’re fleeing cross-country from an enemy hell-bent on destroying the Tolands. Even after slaughtering their village, where their parents died protecting them. Dimilioc territory grows close but their quest for safety—dare they hope a home?—is just beginning. It’s more than merely an original spin on werewolf lore with paranormal monster battles. Black Dog’s a stirring coming of age tale about love and loss in the aftermath of war where family ties are complicated by pack hierarchy and magic.

Narration duties fall to Natividad and Alejandro. Their voices ring distinctly while their perspectives are so on point ballet dancers should be jealous. Their first experiences with snow are some of my favorite passages: descriptive, beautiful, and true. I’d never looked at it that way before. Every character is three-dimensional who grows en route except the Big Bad. Miguel’s so well written it takes reminding that his perspective isn’t directly read.

Natividad’s narrative is the first introduced, which hooked me from page one. Switching between her and Alejandro was flawless. It’s also brilliant strategically because we get insights into black dogs and pure torn between self-control and self-esteem. This also leaves logical human Miguel on the outside. Thus keeping us out of our comfort zone and giving him room to maneuver around voicing regular human thoughts. Yet he’s never predictably dull.

However, fleeing orphan siblings are only the opening. Their course constantly twists when nothing happens as expected. The Toland Musketeers surprise Dimilioc, Dimilioc’s not an ordinary pack, Ezekiel is more than an alpha male making his claim on Natividad, and Vanhausel uproots everything they know. No worries though because this maze’s outcome is just as remarkable: startling, touching, satisfying, and complete.

Going in, I had certain assumptions about weres, magic, and people. Glimpses of backstory seem to support this while just getting through its first several chapters. However, that’s merely a trap. Keep dancing on those toes, because there’s always another surprise up Neumeier’s sleeve. Whether it's plot, world building, or character activity.

Amid this action, a soaring, original fantasy realm springs forth where not even pack antics are the same. It's such a unique twist on weres, I don’t even want to reference them as werewolves. Ignorant humans use that word for lesser moon-bound shifters while black dogs rise above such silliness. It harkens back to vampire’s ancient origins while becoming its own monster. It’s thrilling, inventive, and so sensible, you think, “Why hadn’t I (or anyone else) thought of that before?”
There are rules and hierarchy, but nobody just rolls over. This isn’t about only one rebel or rare case. They are molded but not defined by their world. Despite culture, they find ways to thrive. This realistic inclusion is too often forgone in order to create special snowflake protagonists and highlight injustice, which instead rings hollow. It doesn’t simply make characters pop, it turns their setting from a stage into a globe.

The part I don’t grok is, why can’t boys be Pure? Girls can be black dogs after all. Restricting sex unilaterally on the magic spectrum seems absurd and unfair. This smacks of “males are animals who can’t control themselves” toxic masculinity and reinforcing purity culture’s double standard. Not to mention supporting gender binary thinking by sweeping everyone who doesn’t identify with those categories under the rug. Ugh.

Unfortunately, werewolves’ culture stays patriarchal while everything else evolves beyond genre standards. Having a Pure boy would’ve kept its theme and really push boundaries. It’d go from original to revolutionary. If the genetics have to stay the same, never forget trans* people exist and read2. Besides this bog-standard facet, everything in Black Dog is worth raving about.

1 If you’re wondering, I only disagree with Bones, Books & Buffy’s review on a couple minor points. One, I love all the “talky scenes” profusely. I’d gladly read more of them without life-or-death action. Two, there's no stolen kiss(es) between Natividad and Ezekiel. Believe me, my inner fangirl would’ve freaked out and highlighted the entire section if they did. He gets close, and touches her face, but that’s it.

As a fellow feminist, I wasn’t thrilled about Natividad’s mandatory child marriage either. Thankfully, after posturing (hey, beautiful etc.) when first introduced, they treat her like a person, rather than filet mignon. At least, she’s doing the choosing and not simply taken nor becoming an incubator. Of course, I didn’t find Grayson’s interactions with Natividad problematic with romantic undertones and never thought they’d end up together, so your mileage may vary.

The “father protecting his princess”—hello again, purity culture!—pack nature was more irritating because that’s when she became a commodity without voice or agency. Obviously, not a fan of such ideologies but I honestly can’t imagine Black Dog working differently. It’s still worthwhile talking about because it extracts harmful cultural aspects and makes them seem valid. What we consume affects us, especially young adults (aka its target audience), so pointing out its problematic nature is important. Especially when living in Twilight’s wake.

2 A werewolf novel with a trans* woman who's best friends with the protagonist, I suggest the Mystwalker series by Leigh Evans. But it is not the best, the protagonist could definitely be a better ally to say the least.