This outraged, pained, but chattily discursive near-future dystopian satire from Fendry (author of Flyte of the Century) builds to a terrifying question at the nexus of public health, individual liberty, and animal rights: what would you do if, in a global pandemic purportedly spread by dogs, local authorities demanded the surrender of your dachshund? That gripping dilemma hits narrator Lisle, a deeply lonely but also relentlessly standoffish 34 year-old biotech employee, about halfway through this long novel. Before that, Anomie reads mostly as an aggrieved slice-of-life, tracking Lisle’s humiliations at work (he’s routinely wrongly accused of harassment and discrimination, and quite literally gets put on poop detail), his hectoring colloquies with the “sensitivity” therapist who submits him to immersion tank treatments, and his failures with women.

This difficult young man suggests, at times, that his inability to find love must have something to do with his skin condition, but his account of trying to transform a workout routine with roommate Trish into a romantic interlude offers excruciating cringe comedy. At least Lisle has friends with whom he can share sad-sack complaints like “Society seems to have mechanisms in place to advance and protect the interests of everyone except single guys like you and me.” But they aren’t much healthier, as evidenced by one’s choice to kidnap John E. Bustelich, the biggest bully from their high school, and alter him through chemical injections.

That may sound suspenseful, but Anomie, true to its title, invests its energy in its protagonist’s ennui and isolation rather than narrative momentum. The book’s an immersion tank itself, asking readers to soak in his disaffection to maybe understand it. At times, Lisle suggests his inability to connect with most people is something that bullies like John bear responsibility for, but mostly makes the case that most people—like a hilariously tyrannical nephew—aren’t worth trying to reach. Fendry avoids easy answers, except for one pure, beautiful thing: Lisle’s love for that dachshund. As the mob calls for the extermination of dogs, Lisle at last has real purpose in standing outside society.

Takeaway: Pained novel of an alienated man told to surrender his dog for public health.

Comparable Titles: Amie Barrodale’s You Are Having a Good Time, Catherine Lacey’s The Answers.

Production grades
Cover: B+
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A-