Apparently the author of The Hundred and One Dalmatians wrote a sequel some 12 years later, which has been largely forgotten by the public, but I recently learned of its existence when I was picking up Dodie Smith's first Dalmatian book at the library, and thought it might be fun to have a double feature. That seems to have been a poor decision. While the first book is charming and exciting, a delightful animal rescue story about family and courage and becoming more than you think you are, the s

Apparently the author of The Hundred and One Dalmatians wrote a sequel some 12 years later, which has been largely forgotten by the public, but I recently learned of its existence when I was picking up Dodie Smith's first Dalmatian book at the library, and thought it might be fun to have a double feature. That seems to have been a poor decision. While the first book is charming and exciting, a delightful animal rescue story about family and courage and becoming more than you think you are, the sequel takes a major turn in style and content and tells a completely different story.



It was nice at the start to pick up in the years following the events of the first book, getting reacquainted with Pongo, Missis, and their "Dynasty of Dalmatians," but by the end of the first chapter, things get pretty wonky. The mystery is intriguing enough at the start--every living creature except for dogs (and some non-living entities, such as the wind) seems to have fallen under some kind of enchantment causing them not to wake up. It's then up to the dogs to discover the source of this curious turn of events, and it just gets more bizarre from there. Later developments include mind-reading across hundreds of miles, doors opening by themselves, no feelings of hunger, thirst or fatigue, traveling at great speeds without touching the ground (a phenomenon they call "swooshing"), and a strange interaction at Trafalfar Square with an other-worldly dog from outer space (who first communicates with them through a glowing television set) who has a plan that threatens the society and future of the world's population of dogs. It was fun to read about the sort of social structure and government of dogs (largely relative to their human counterparts), but all the charm is lost in the mystical and odd fantasy of it. While the universe and the peril of the first novel were firmly grounded and rooted in reality, the sequel takes things to a very odd level. I gave it ()barely) two stars because the writing was still charming, and some of the characters uttered rather profound statements at times (especially Missis, who seems to really have grown up since her naive days as a new mother, and Cadpig, one of the original fifteen puppies who has by now taken up residence with the Prime Minister, and now acts in that capacity in dog society), but it's hard to care when the surrounding events are so silly. There were some really contrived plot points that seemed to have been arbitrarily included to add interest and help propel the story, and a lot of the story seemed a little bit too (to use a word that becomes a recurring theme throughout the book) metaphysical. I like my English Dalmatians a little more believable. For a moment it seemed like there were going to be some interesting references or parallels to religion and God, as there were in the first book, but then they went a totally different direction and just became pseudo-religious mumbo-jumbo instead. And then, for good measure, why not throw in a muddled message about the evils of war and the hopelessness in the good of mankind?



This might just be one of the weirdest books I've ever read. One good thing that can be said about this book is that it's a pretty quick read. The bottom line: There is some nice writing, and some of the great characters return in Dodie Smith's continuation of the Dalmatian saga, but there are a LOT of reasons this is (and probably should have remained) a "long-forgotten sequel". I guess we can all be grateful that none of the film sequels have used this book as inspiration for story. Yikes.