Written in the 1970s but rejected for publication, Katherine Dunn’s novel Toad remained hidden away until discovered and published recently, fifty years after being written. I had never heard of cult writer Katherine Dunn and her acclaimed novel Geek Love so didn’t know what to expect with Toad. And what I read before embarking on it didn’t lead me to think I would enjoy it, but in fact I was unexpectedly drawn in and captivated by it, such is the power of the writing, the panache with which it is written and the propulsion with which it carries the reader along in what, admittedly, is a disturbing and often harrowing read. Shocking at times, transgressive, bleak but strangely hypnotic, it tells the story of Sally Gunnar, a deeply troubled woman leading the life of a recluse, solitary and depressed. She reflects back on her life up to this point, a life filled with off-beat, mostly unlikeable and marginal friends and acquaintances. Self-destructive, self-loathing, bitter and intensely lonely Sally is not an empathetic character but as the story progresses we can’t help but be drawn into her dysfunctional world and even begin to feel some sympathy for a wasted life.

I wasn’t sure if I was going to review the novel up for discussion here, Toad. It’s a book by a woman for women, and — after all — how would I be qualified enough to talk about it as such as a man? I’m glad, though, that I picked it up because it is quite a colourful book. It was written by Katherine Dunn (1945–2016), who was most famous for writing a grotesque novel published in the late ’80s about circus freaks called Geek Love. That novel has become something of an underground cult classic — as the foreword to Toad points out, it’s the kind of book that inspires female strippers to go out and get tattoos of how the main characters would be imagined to look like not so discretely on their bodies. The book was also nominated for a National Book Award, one of the U.S.’s biggest literary prizes. Toad, it turns out, is an earlier novel — written sometime in the 1970s — that for some reason or another never saw the light of day in terms of being published during Dunn’s tumultuous lifetime. (Dunn was an interesting woman. She tended bars, and broke up fights in the process — tough lady! — and then wound up writing about boxing for a few mainstream publications such as Playboy and Sports Illustrated.) Thus, 50 years later, we now have Toad in print. How does it measure up to her best-known work?

Well, I can say that Toad is well-written — but saying that feels like a cop-out. Whenever someone says a book is “well-written,” they’re saying that it is literary and full of “good” writing (as one is willing to objectively measure that), but, in the end, just wasn’t quite their cup of tea. That’s actually how I feel about Toad. The book is certainly one that was written by Katherine Dunn, and it has its share of gross-out moments along the lines of Geek Love. However, that’s really where the comparisons end. While Geek Love was a more complex and perhaps even speculative novel, Toad veers more towards the campus life sketchbook. It is also very much a product of its counter-cultural times — making its publication now something of an oddity. Still, Toad is the kind of feminist novel I’d imagine would be taught nowadays in undergraduate English classes at university because the protagonists are generally young (except for during narration in the “present moment”) and readers in their early 20s might relate to them. The story is centered around a curmudgeonly hermit named Sally Gunnar who is friends with two fellow college students named Sam (who frequently changes his name, and, thus, his identity) and Carlotta, his girlfriend. They live in Portland, Oregon. As the novel progresses, Sam and Carlotta quit school, buy a cheap farm and car and essentially drop out of mainstream life. Carlotta eventually becomes pregnant. From there, the book is — at least in part — about the recklessness of youth and the consequences of irresponsibility.

Despite any reservations I had, I was quite charmed by Toad’s first half. The writing is sharp, even if it induces you to vomit. For instance, the first time we meet Carlotta, she is presented as a beautiful young woman dancing barefoot on the lawn of someone’s house. Then she steps in dog poop matter-of-factly. Elsewhere, an obese middle-aged Sally comes home from work wanting to eat a bag of donuts, only to discover that her lover has peed on the bag to ensure that she doesn’t eat them so she can lose weight. She eats the soiled donuts anyway. I think it can go without saying that Toad is a transgressive novel and, I don’t know if this is an overused adjective, a fascinating read. However, and I want to be respectful even if the author has been dead for more than five years (and you can’t libel the dead after all), I did find the book to be the product of a young writer still learning her craft. Toad meanders. It goes into unexpected places it didn’t have to go. (Some of the topicality is about suicide, which comes right out of left field. After all, despite their isolation, these protagonists never felt to be wholly depressed, at least they didn’t to me. They’re more miscreants than wrist-slashers, I think.) I felt that 100 pages of this more than 300-page book (at least in print galley form) could have been easily lopped off. I found the book’s second half kind of plodded along aimlessly once Sam and Carlotta establish a family for themselves.

Yet, if you’re a fan of Dunn’s work and are willing to try a novel that’s in some ways thematically different than Geek Love, some things are astonishing about Toad. Dunn’s command of language and vocabulary is breathtaking as much as it can annoy — after all, who like to get up from the bed or the couch and run to the dictionary every time a $50 bill is used? (But I don’t mean to criticize too harshly there — you will learn new things by reading Toad, after all.) I’m also a bit stymied by the fact that it has taken a half-century for this book to be published. It was very publishable, I found, even though it is not a perfect book. I’ve certainly read a lot worse from mainstream publishers. I don’t know the reasons why it didn’t get published immediately after being written, and perhaps the reasons are best kept as a mystery for me. (Maybe if I were so inclined, a Google search might turn up why Dunn didn’t send this book out to agents or if publishers turned it down.) However, a book that has been “lost” or unknown for so long features some quality writing, and some interesting (there’s probably another lazy word reviewers use right there) qualities to the book too. If they don’t mind stepping in some dog shit in bare feet, Toad might be the perfect anti-Christmas gift for your loved ones this year. But just don’t let those loved ones pee on your donuts in return! Consider yourself warned.

Delighted to include this much-anticipated title in the November edition of Novel Encounters, my regular column highlighting the month’s most anticipated fiction, for the Books section of Zoomer magazine. (see column and mini-review at link)

3.5 stars

alright kiddos, i'm coming at you today for probably one of my top ten most anticipated books of the year (i don't have a definitive list, but top ten feels apt). i have been a fan of katherine dunn since reading her cult classic 'geek love' in an undergraduate fiction course and falling head-over-heels for her wild characters and plotlines, while staying in the lane of literary fiction. (truly, you can ask abby to confirm how much this book impacted both of our reading lives.)

'toad', published posthumously after being turned down many times over in dunn's lifetime, is a different type of story. the novel follows sally, a woman recounting her life as a young woman in college and the people she met along the way. we meet sam, a guy who wants to know everyone's story; carlotta, a free spirit who finds herself succumbing to marriage despite her protests; and rennel, a philosophy student who cares more about himself than those around him. moving back and forth between her past and present, sally tells stories of the gang's misadventures, their weed-filled college days, her romances, a very dark suicide attempt, and her decision to become a recluse in her small house. none of the characters are particularly likeable, but were still intriguing to read about. while this book won't be dethroning 'geek love' as my favourite dunn novel, i do have appreciation for the believable (and often mundane) stories of a woman living her life the best she knows how. i also appreciated the afterward by the editor in understanding how this book was able to be edited to be an interesting read, as it likely wouldn't have captivated me the same way in its original form.

cw: vivid suicidal ideation, suicide attempt, animal cruelty

Man.....this is depressing as depressing books can get.

BUT this is also Katherine Dunn, so it's fantastic prose written at the highest level. It's dark, DARK humor as only Dunn can do.

It's what I've been waiting for.

Thanks to NetGalley for the opportunity to read this book.

Katherine Dunn is a brilliant writer. I found myself in such a deep state of awe while flipping through my e-galley. Though I didn't always know where TOAD was taking me next, I was here for the (wild) ride. Looking forward to the Dunn-aissance. Really, incredible!

Thanks to the publisher for the e-galley.

Even though I am out of my covid quarantine, I still feeling fuzzy headed and funky, and while I am no longer reading and reviewing from the confines of my living room couch, I still consider this covd read #6. Lol. Damn the 'Rona!

I've had Geek Love on my TBR for a while now and the only reason I left it there unread in favor of this one was because I requested the arc, and felt compelled to get to it before it released. Though now I'm wondering if I shouldn't have because... oh gosh, don't hate me... I was really unimpressed with Toad.

I've been there/done that with the whole sad girl genre and when written well, can totally get into it. But this one seemed to infect me with a strange malaise. It actually, literaly impacted my mood. It was just soooo blaaaah.

Our protag is basically living a hermetic life now after surviving a pretty bad mental breakdown, tucked away in her tiny home with a jug of fish on her counter and a vocal old toad in her garden, and staying as far from other people as possible.

The entire book is basically her dishing us up a plate of some really funky memories. And I can't tell if she's contentedly reliving these in her mind, or if she's just that haunted by them. Mainly, they are of a few friends she used to hang with that were a little odd and offbeat and whom she didn't even really seem to LIKE to hang with, by the way. Every so often there'd be a horror story with a boyfriend or co-worker for funsies. But ultimately, we float in and out of these moments with her and god she was such a bitch to everyone and everyone seemed to treat her like shit or put up with her simply because she was there and there so many times I thought I should probably just put this down and walk away because, while I wasn't hating it, I also wasn't getting into it, and I just kept disliking her more, the more I read. And it felt a little toxic. But here we are, less than two days and more than 350 pages later...