I have read a few anthropomorphized stories lately, but this had the best foundation of the ones I have encountered recently. It borders on satire of how our world works. The story is based in New York, and of the other borough's mentioned, the lead protagonist grew up in Ozone Park - a place I lived in myself for two years, and it was so much fun to randomly stumble onto it in a book. It had llamas and Alpacas as the lead protagonists.
In addition to all the possible issues, a society mirroring our current one also has the innate personalities of animals (their natural environment as well as their tendencies). It is something like Animal Farm;' if animals became us, how different would they be?'. It has its weird moments, and it was slightly hard to imagine exactly how they were all living in New York, but some images were clearer.
The ending did not precisely provide closure but gave indications on the direction things may take. It is an imaginative take on the class issue, and it even had a few funny moments. Overall, someone on the lookout for something different could try.

I received an ARC thanks to NetGalley and the publishers; the review is entirely based on my own reading experience.

A Triumph of Imagination, But Not Necessarily of Storytelling

The first half of this book is great fun. Alt world New York City is cleverly imagined and well described, with some soaring and compelling opening passages. The overall frame of the tale is established with sly humor, keen insight, and just the right degree of edge. Deadpan lines and pointed throwaway observations are abundant. Our heroes are appealing and interesting, their easy friendship is engaging, and after meeting them the reader is well prepared to follow them through whatever adventures and experiences present themselves. The fact that they aren't humans just allows more freedom for more skewed and slightly absurd development.

It is unfortunate, then, when the allegorical elements take over, and broad and obvious political, cultural, class, and social themes are sketched out and then relentlessly driven home. From that point the book wanders between preachy and heavy handed until it reaches a bland conclusion.

The bottom line for me was that the anthropomorphism didn't make the political message any more compelling. And the political message wasted the potential of the initial setup. That said, the first half really is quite entertaining and to my mind very deserving of the praise it has received.

(Please note that I received a free ecopy of this book without a review requirement, or any influence regarding review content should I choose to post a review. Apart from that I have no connection at all to either the author or the publisher of this book.)

This is a solid read. The opening and concept are enchanting, you follow Alfonzo as he struggles to finish his thesis while holding down a job in the NYC records department. Oh, and Alfonzo is a llama, and the mayor of NYC is a horse, and Alfonzo's thesis adviser is a dog. Alfonzo's best friend is also a llama, he works in residential services and has to deal with complaints from mice that are bothered by overcrowding. Both Alfonzo and Mitchell must contend with the corruption that is rife in the city management, from horse mayor to his piggy enforcers. This hilarious skewering of modern city life isn't the only reflection of our current state of society, there is also sea pollution and global warming to contend with, and the inevitable marginalization of fish folk that that entails. This is a fun and witty read. I felt that it meandered a little towards the middle and started to lose my interest somewhat. Having said that, I would still recommend this book. A light hearted take on some serious issues.

Published by Farrar, Straus and Giroux/FSG Originals on August 4, 2020

Fables about animals who behave as humans are often intended to provide insight into human nature. In part, Talking Animals can be seen as revealing the prejudices that people of different cultures or skin colors must overcome when they try to live together. Substitute herbivores for vegetarians and fur color for skin color to get a flavor of the story. The story burdens animals with other human problems, including global warming, political corruption, inequitable wealth distribution, immigration woes, and the poisoning of the food supply. There is even a version of the animal rights movement that seeks better treatment of fish and other inhabitants of the sea. The characters are just as frustrated as powerless humans by their inability to make fundamental changes to policies that are killing them.

Joni Murphy has some amusing takes on New York City, a city taken over by invasive species that immediately began to mythologize themselves. They laid out Manhattan in a grid because grids create the illusion that everything is under control, but the story of every city is one of brutality that has been “retold as one of heroism.” Wealthy animals get their wool “shorn by skillful barbers who specialize in fades” while less fortunate animals haul away the trash.

The protagonist, Alfonso, is an alpaca from Queens whose parents are Peruvian immigrants. Alfonso regards himself as a “waste of wool” after his 1,500-page dissertation is rejected as unfocused. Alfonso dreamed of transcending the “dumb cartoon version of who we are as a species” but Mitchell, a llama who is Alfonso's beset friend, reminds him that alpacas and llamas have a proud heritage as consensus builders. Mitchell believes camelids, meek by reputation, have the power to rise up against politicians who are trying to turn the city into a “mall prison.”

Alfonso works in a meaningless clerical job in City Hall. He regrets his failed relationship with a vicuna named Vivi and wonders whether his life can have any meaning as a failed academic. Mitchell is caught in the bureaucracy of the city’s Office of Affordable Housing. The mayor is a horse who, like many human politicians, is dedicated to the principle that resources should be channeled to the wealthy and that less fortunate animals should feed off the waste products that trickle down from the top. Global warming will soon leave mammals living underwater with sea dwellers, but the rich will be the last to get wet.

Another of Alfonso’s friends, a lemur named Pamella, is a supporter of the sea dwellers’ rights movement. Pamella laments that voting for the mayor’s opponent will install “pig problems as a solution to horse problems.” Change won’t come by continuing to run in the hamster wheel, even for hamsters. She looks to the sea “not for politics, but for its hard-stinging spray. What we do isn’t good enough, but the alternative is ceasing to exist.”

If people are true to their natures, so are the mammals in Talking Animals. When Alfonso tags along as Mitchell investigates a complaint about housing conditions, Alfonso ponders the nature of cats: “they liked mixing signals without acknowledging the tension between warmth and aggression. A cat might spend ten minutes glaring from across the bar, then buy you a drink.” Alfonso recognizes the “need to accept others as they are, in all their weirdness” and believes he should not judge animals for acting in conformity with their nature, but when a seemingly friendly cat suddenly bites his ear and scampers away, Alfonso has difficulty avoiding judgment. Mitchell is more sanguine: “Everybody bites sometimes,” he reminds Alfonso. So it is with humans.

Notwithstanding their natures, the mammals in Talking Animals seem to coexist more peacefully than humans. Rambunctious raccoons tell jokes to complacent goats; cows and llamas bond over their multiple stomachs and endless chewing. Except for a large heist of maple syrup by a gang of bears, there doesn’t seem to be much street crime. The ravages of unregulated capitalism, on the other hand, are just as harmful in the fable as they are in the human world.

The first half of the novel, setting up Alfonso’s failures as a doctoral candidate and as a file clerk are engaging. While I agree with its message of hope and empowerment, the second half becomes a bit preachy as Alfonso, Mitchell, and Pamella embark on an ambiguous quest to fight the good fight for social, environmental, and economic justice. Despite the plot’s unfortunate loss of focus, Talking Animals succeeds both as an illustration of human foibles and as an entertaining romp through the animal kingdom.

RECOMMENDED

Do you ever read a book and just know that it’s found you at the perfect moment in your life? Well, Talking Animals is absolutely loaded with the catharsis so many of us desperately need in 2020. Alfonzo is a jaded alpaca living in New York City. He’s lost faith in the city’s corrupt government, is having difficulties editing his 1000+ page dissertation, and is increasingly disturbed by the mistreatment of sea creatures. When he and his friend Mitchell uncover a political scandal, Alfonzo has to decide what kind of alpaca he wants to be and what kind of world he wants to help create.

This novel is essentially what Zootopia would have been if it were made by A24 instead of Disney. Part political satire, part millennial lament, Talking Animals is an absolute must-read for anyone overwhelmed and distraught over our current landscape. Joni Murphy's writing is succinct and often hilarious, and I found myself highlighting the majority of the book whilst cheering at its insight.

You can read this as a fable about class and the environment (and a lot of other things) or you can read it as the story of Alfonso, an alpaca who can't catch a break at word, can't finish his thesis, and has a friend named Mitchell, a llama who likes to party. They both work at City hall and, when they get the bright idea to expose corruption, they find the Sea Equality Environmental Front, an organization that's a little hazy. The fun part of this alternative view of the world satirical fable (is that a better way to describe it? You decide) is the animals. Some of the characterizations are points and you'll undoubtedly recognize them. It does drag in spots (as this sort of novel can) but it's never mean and it's generally cheerful. Thanks to the publisher for the ARC.

This novel was weirdly awesome. This alt world inhabited by, well, talking animals mirrors the angst and issues of our modern world but does so with lots of great animal humor and charm.

Alfonzo is an ordinary alpaca on the outside, going through the mundane motions of his job filing records at City Hall. Internally, he's at a crossroads-- still mourning his mother's death, nurinsg a breakup, and finalizing his 1300-or-so page dissertation on all things in alpaca culture, yearning for the day that corrupt government ceases to exist. You know, much like real life, except this is a novel of modern animals rather than humans-- and much like in our world, there's a lot more happening on the inside the office than what meets the public eye. Talking Animals is a political contemporary that dives into sociological and environmental issues, but with animal puns and other delightful qualities. This camelid stands out from the crowd, perfect for fans of BoJack Horseman.