This book was okay I guess, I’m not too sure really on how to review it in all honesty. It certainly started well and you get the sense from page one Abreu is not going to hold back. Whilst it’s a little (well lotta) unpleasant to start a book with a girl making herself throw up, I did actually love the rawness and no-self-control aspect of these characters, preparing myself for a no-shits-given read. The book is all from the POV of an unnamed ten year old girl given the nickname ‘shit’ by her friend Isora and their poverty-ridden life in the hills of Tenerife. The first three quarters of the book just follows these two as they go about, not really doing much and it’s for sure more of a character-driven novel. I did like this to start and Abreu does give us a good character study and represents the harsh life of those living in Tenerife with a big divide between the locals and tourists well. But… it does get a bit much after some time with repetitive scenarios of gross bodily functions with the reading experience becoming quite uncomfortable and sickening to be frank. She presents female sexuality, puberty and growing up in an raw light which I appreciate but it does get too crass. I don’t mind crass books and can forgive them sometimes but the more it went on I didn’t get any sense of a true message or crux to it so maybe she was just adding these in for the sake of it? The book leads up to a climatic event and onwards I really began to dislike it more so, I don’t think the topics were presented all that well and it’s just quite an irritating read. 

Like I said, this is quite a difficult book to review because I think the translation is really what let it down. I’ve read lots of reviews (well more so the comments on these) and it’s apparent those who read the original Spanish rated it higher and it was received better there. This is a book that is meant to be representing poor Spanish women in the Canary Islands so when I, a working class cis-presenting man who’s lived my whole life in London, reads this I can’t grapple the culture and life to the best of my ability. That’s not to say I can’t rationalise and see things from other’s perspective but maybe some books just aren’t meant to be translated and possibly this is the case for Dogs of Summer which is a shame. The nuance of Abreu’s craft in regards to the story and character studies was likely lost in the translation process. However, there still are some Spanish-speaking reviews that rated it low. 

grossness and girlhood

I love love loved the themes and ideas in this story: classicism & tourism, early childhood friendships & obsession, the fixation of thinness and EDs of the 2000s, sexual identity & violence... it's kind of amazing how this book covers such serious and broad topics while remaining in our 10-year-old protag's perspective.

The writing style was artful but challenging. It wasn't a perfect match for me but I still enjoyed it. Paired with the revolting imagery in the book, it slowed me down significantly and I had to put it down several times. 

For anyone who enjoyed the style but not the vibe of this book, I strongly recommend Ghost Wall by Sarah Moss. It's similar in length, features a young girl protag, and shares some similar themes. I enjoyed it much more.

Regarding the ending:

Typically, I do not enjoy endings with abrupt deaths because it usually feels like a cop-out for some cheap shock factor. After sitting on this one for a while, I have come around to appreciate the ending. The way I interpret it, it represents the abrupt end of our protag's childhood after the rape, and the end of her life (maybe even literal way) after Isora drowns. We do not get to see our protag struggle with grief because it is shut out. There is no processing or healing or growth, just an end. In that way, this book is two stories: what it tells, and what it leaves out.