Although T.C Boyle's novels have really run the gamut of subject matter, the one thing they all have in common is their author's captivating storytelling approach, which merges the conventional with the unexpected in style and substance. Among the strongest of Boyle's works have been those that take an unusual perspective on historical figures --- Frank Lloyd Wright, Harvey Kellogg, Alfred Kinsey, etc. --- using fiction to offer fresh, contemporary insights on real-life characters from the past.
Similarly, the title story of Boyle's newest story collection, WILD CHILD, is probably the strongest of these pieces. It relates the story of the "Wild Boy of Aveyron," the feral child discovered in the French woods and slowly "civilized" over a number of years. I confess that I knew the tale mostly because of a couple of excellent children's book accounts published several years ago. However, Boyle's story of Victor is simultaneously more graphic and more tender as readers are left to reflect on what is gained --- and lost --- through Victor's "taming." Similarly, in "Sin Dolor," a doctor becomes obsessed with a young patient who apparently has no sensitivity to pain --- but becomes horrified when the boy's own father exploits his child's freakishness to turn a buck.
As in his previous collection, TOOTH AND CLAW, WILD CHILD often focuses --- as in the title story --- on the places where the so-called natural world intersects with the human one. In the disturbing "Thirteen Hundred Rats," a grieving man distorts the advice of well-meaning acquaintances who advise him to get a pet. He buys a snake, but finds that he has a more visceral connection to the rats he purchases to feed his python. In "Admiral," a couple who is too rich for their own good clone their beloved deceased Afghan hound and spend all their time trying to ensure that their new dog's life will replicate their old one's exactly --- and the dog-sitter they hire takes their advice to heart. In "Question 62," two sisters on opposite coasts contend with their own questions about the proper place for "wild" animals.
Other stories explore --- often in gut-wrenching terms --- the moral quandaries of contemporary life. In "The Lie," a young father, desperate to avoid work and exhausted by the drudgery of new parenthood, tells his co-workers that the reason he hasn't come into the office recently is that his infant daughter has died. In "Hands On," a woman embarking on her first plastic surgery procedure develops an unhealthy fixation on the man she thinks can "fix" her.
Throughout, Boyle offers readers keen observations and robust storytelling. Frequently, his stories seem infused with the landscapes of California and South America. Just as often, though, they take place in a geographically generic suburban environment that could be anywhere. Contrasting the extreme, often violent realms of the natural world with the sterile, controlling, lifeless human environment results in powerful commentaries and indelible images --- exactly what the short story is best designed for.
--- Reviewed by Norah Piehl