‘Dogs Chase Cars’ by Mark Porter
Review by Sarah Schofield
Horatio Goodman, known to his friends as Harry, is the unlikely hero of Mark Porter’s debut novel. Brit Harry lives in Washington, moderately happily married to his quintessentially American wife Megan. He’s finding that life is not quite panning out as he had anticipated. Something is missing. In a half-hearted effort for change, Harry alters his career direction, from Store Guard to Private Detective. Harry conducts a series of relatively unsuccessful vigils trying to gather evidence for untrusting spouses, always accompanied by Sherlock, his dog, in their conspicuous yellow van. Following Megan’s eulogizing of her therapist, Caleb, Harry is persuaded to pay him a visit, too. But rather than nurturing his shrivelled confidence, Caleb spends their sessions speculating on Harry’s sexual proclivities and then seeks his professional help in discovering the source of some threatening letters he’s received.
Porter’s novel, published by independent writing collective Drugstore Books, has received wide attention, mostly through viral marketing and word of mouth. No mean feat. Mike Boon, comedian and writer, says: “Dogs Chase Cars made me laugh out loud… ” I’ll admit that I didn’t laugh out loud. But any book reviewed with or touting this claim normally turns me off immediately. It is unhelpful. It almost always oversells the funny, leaving the reader feeling vaguely cheated, when often the book in question is so much more than a bit of a LOL. I did, however, find Dogs Chase Cars very witty. Much of the humour is observational, which is no surprise given Porter’s stand-up background. One of the funniest sequences revolves around a very sticky incident that is as gross as it is comical and has put me off toffee-cookie ice cream for life.
Some reviewers describe Dogs Chase Cars as a crime novel or thriller. I feel these tags also sell Porter’s novel short. The crime and thriller aspects are not the main draw for me. True, it tips a satirically deglamorising wink at the private detective genre, and yes, one of the narrative threads is about a crime, but this thread is often fraying under the weight of far more intricately woven plots. Male friendships, the difficulties of maintaining closeness in marriage and discerning life’s fundamental priorities, are themes far more tightly sewn.
A challenging aspect of the book is Harry’s passivity. A lot happens around him, which he takes little control over. He waits for his life to organically change, he takes negligible action in sprucing up his marriage, he sits redundantly at the hospital in the aftermath of a serious attack on his friend Lambert. He is a bystander while stuff happens to other people. Harry does binge eat ice cream and have an ill-thought-through fight beside a urinal, and there is a latent charm in his characterisation. He is the commentator for everyone else’s stories. He is the sparring partner, the kickback… if I knew something about football and boxing, two other recurring themes in the novel, I would add other weak metaphors. This aspect of his character is aptly symbolised in his career history as a store guard, statically monitoring other people’s activities, and then as private detective, waiting for the drama to unfold in the lives of others.
About halfway through the novel, Harry seems to recognise this; “I have been doing an awful lot of standing back and observing of late, I am entering a period of action. It is time to start rolling my sleeves up and go hunting out the answers.” But despite this promise of transformation, Harry remains the narrator for the stories of those orbiting his world; a step away from the action. But I did enjoy the novel, so there is something compelling about this. Something honest. Not everyone is a go-getting, forward thinking, proactive type. Readers may, like me, find they can relate to Harry. And ultimately, these stories, of the people around him, are his story. The very title nods towards this, just as dog’s chase futilely after cars, so Harry acknowledges the futility of the many insecurities that blight his life, chasing after impossible aspirations and loosing sight of what’s important.
This novel is about Harry Goodman’s budding understanding that contentment is underpinned by the people you fill your life with, not your social status or career choices. It’s the American dream with a very British bent. Readers expecting crime and tense drama may be left wanting. But those seeking a shrewdly heartfelt and uplifting observance of what it is to be human will love it.
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Sarah Schofield’s writing has appeared in various places, most recently Flash Mob’s Flash Fiction ebook and Lancaster’s inaugural 
publication of arts paper Back and Beyond. She is currently working on a collection of short stories and a radio play. She blogs at http://icallitresearch.blogspot.com and tweets as saraheschofield.
Great review, Ms. Schofield. I think you’ve really found the core of Mark’s book. Ultimately, for me it was about how people relate to each other, and how family can mean much more than bloodlines. It’s a book with a lot of heart.
But I can’t say that I cared much for the toffee ice cream sequence you mention. It was a bit much!