Dogfight, A Love Story

( 13 )


What Jonathan Lethem did for Brooklyn, Matt Burgess does for Queens in this exuberant and brilliant debut novel about a young drug dealer having a very bad weekend.

Alfredo Batista has some worries. Okay, a lot of worries. His older brother, Jose?sorry, Tariq?is returning from a stretch in prison after an unsuccessful robbery, a burglary that Alfredo was supposed to be part of. So now everyone thinks Alfredo snitched on his brother, which may have something to do with the fact ...

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Dogfight, A Love Story: A Novel

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What Jonathan Lethem did for Brooklyn, Matt Burgess does for Queens in this exuberant and brilliant debut novel about a young drug dealer having a very bad weekend.

Alfredo Batista has some worries. Okay, a lot of worries. His older brother, Jose—sorry, Tariq—is returning from a stretch in prison after an unsuccessful robbery, a burglary that Alfredo was supposed to be part of. So now everyone thinks Alfredo snitched on his brother, which may have something to do with the fact that Alfredo is now dating Tariq’s ex-girlfriend, Isabel, who is eight months pregnant. Tariq’s violent streak is probably #1 worry on Alfredo’s list.

Also, he needs to steal a pit bull. For the homecoming dogfight.

Burgess brings to life the rich and vivid milieu of his hometown native Queens in all its glorious variety. Here is the real New York, a place where Pakistanis, Puerto Ricans, Haitians, An ­glos, African Americans, and West Indians scrap and mingle and love. But the real star here is Burgess’s incredible ear for language—the voices of his characters leap off the page in riotous, spot-on dialogue. The outer boroughs have their own language, where a polite greeting is fraught with menace, and an insult can be the expression of the most tender love.

With a story as intricately plotted as a Shakespearean comedy—or revenge tragedy, for that matter—and an electrically colloquial prose style, Dogfight, a Love Story establishes Matt Burgess as an exuberant new voice in contemporary literature. The great Queens novel has arrived.

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Editorial Reviews

Joseph Salvatore
With an acute ear for dialogue and the poetry of the street, Burgess…gives us the pizzerias and bodegas, playgrounds and schoolyards, barbershops and bowling alleys of his home turf. His is a cliché-free depiction of gritty urban reality, reminiscent of Richard Price. But Burgess's city novel is less Clockers than Portrait of the Artist as an Ambivalent Drug Dealer, less an inner-­city whodunit than an outer-­borough how-will-he-do-it.
—The New York Times
Publishers Weekly
Burgess's high-octane debut is a post-9/11 shout-out to the borough of Queens, with its roiling mix of cultures. The story chronicles one tense weekend in the life of Alfredo Batista, a 19-year-old Puerto Rican weed dealer trying to set up a dogfight to celebrate older brother Tariq's release from prison for holding up a catering hall. Alberto, who skipped out on the job at the last minute, worries that Tariq might wrongly suspect him of having snitched. Complicating matters is Tariq's girlfriend, Isabel, who's now Alberto's baby mama. And then there is Vladimir, a 15-year-old Ecstasy dealer Alberto rips off and whose brother turns out to be a Russian gangster. Accompanied by his Haitian best friend, Winston, Alberto spends most of the weekend dodging trouble and trying to steal a dog for the fight, but he can't avoid the bloodshed that erupts during the novel's attenuated climax. Despite sometimes lax plotting, Burgess's gritty, punchy narrative, propelled by fresh gusts of language, should remind readers of another outstanding outer borough literary debut--Richard Price's The Wanderers. (Sept.)
From the Publisher
"With an acute ear for dialogue and the poetry of the street.....a cliche-free depiction of gritty urban reality, reminiscent of Richard Price. But Burgess's city novel is less 'Clockers' than 'Portrait of the Artist as an Ambivalent Drug Dealer.....bursts of narrative bravado....DOGFIGHT burns through this explosive weekend like a lighted fuse.....takes a mighty swing at this streetwise drama about loyalty and betrayal"--New York Times Book Review

"Arresting and vibrant....electrifying"--Vanity Fair

"Every once in a while you come across a book that completely captures a place. Even if you've never been there yourself, it's like you can see it, smell it, taste it. Theres a new novel out that does that for New York. Specifically: the borough of Queens. Author Matt Burgess nails the places."--NPR's Weekend Edition

"The hilarious, harrowing story of an extremely bad weekend in the life of 19-year-old Alfredo Batista, a very small-time drug dealer with some very big problems, including the Mob, a seven-months-pregnant girlfriend, and an ex-con older brother who just might want to bash Alfredo’s head in.  Oh, and there’s the small matter of the pit bull Alfredo needs to steal, for the Homecoming dogfight.  Poor dog.  Poor Alfredo.  I couldn’t stop laughing."--Ben Fountain, bestselling author of Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk

"Matt Burgess' "Dogfight, A Love Story" was my most memorable read of 2010. As the title implies, the novel mixes everyday urban conflict with slice-of-life tenderness and momentary grace. Burgess captures the bass-heavy symphony of the neighborhood and gets the voices just right. Mixing the comedic and dramatic is a tricky thing to pull off, but the author does so with astonishing success. Most surprisingly, this is his literary debut. I can hardly wait to see what he comes up with next."--George Pelacanos

"[A] talent to watch. He possesses an ear for dialogue that rivals Richard Price and a pacy sense of plot reminiscent of another fantastic recent debut, Josh Bazell's "Beat the Reaper". His style is strikingly visual—Mr Burgess doesn't sketch scenes so much as paint them as big and bright as a playground mural.....Burgess is an energetic and disciplined writer. Most importantly, "Dogfight" is tremendously fun to read."--The Economist

" those before him, Burgess lives and dies by the credibility of his dialogue and details, and his portrayal is clearly the product of much close study."--Time Out New York 

"Matt Burgess serves up a savory dish with his new novel, but the meat of the story is his writing....[an]exciting and really-tough-to-put-down novel....The plot is fun, original, addictive....The landscape Burgess paints (setting: Jackson Heights, Queens) has the alluring exoticism of a Gauguin....not merely funny or incisive but also feel true, and intimately so, as if revealing to us hidden parts of a world we already know....There's something more expansive at play here, as we watch Alfredo grapple with his conscience and fall deeper into an unknown yet eerily familiar world."--Minneapolis Star Tribune

"Sharp wit and enormous heart fill the pages of Dogfight, A Love Story.....intense, emotional and funny....a dazzling debut"--MetroMag


“Matt Burgess’s debut novel is a beautifully made, street-smart novel that is both funny and disturbing. Written with an almost furious energy, Dogfight has an amazingly well-rounded cast of characters and a plot that leads up to a violent and probably inevitable climax. This is the best first novel I have read in years.”
—Charles Baxter, author of The Feast of Love and The Soul Thief

Dogfight takes you on a gritty tour of a city exploding with diversity, violence, and love. Matt Burgess is a major talent, blessed with a unique voice full of humor and an attitude that’s ready to elbow its way into American letters.”
—Ernesto Quiñonez, author of Bodega Dreams

Library Journal
Nineteen-year-old Alfredo Batista, a small-time drug dealer in Queens, NY, has things on his mind. His girlfriend, Isabel, is pregnant, and his brother Jose (now known as Tariq) is being released from prison. People think Alfredo ratted out Tariq so he could steal Isabel, which is understandable, since Isabel had been Tariq's girlfriend. How will the volatile Tariq react at his homecoming? Thinking he needs to offer his brother something, the bespectacled, neurotic, and brainy Alfredo (he's a math whiz) first steals some ecstasy from a school yard dealer and then decides to put on a dogfight to entertain Tariq. First, he must find a dog and avoid the numerous and growing hazards of his situation. Gritty, funny, violent, and genuine, this is an impressive debut. Burgess's energetic writing propels his characters through a momentous weekend in this original and complex story. Alfredo is a fresh and lovable voice, perfectly complemented by Isabel. Together they bring a sweetness to a hard tale. VERDICT Highly recommended for lovers of good writing and urban fiction. [The publisher is comparing Burgess to Junot Díaz and Jonathan Lethem.—Ed.]—Nancy Fontaine, Dartmouth Coll., Hanover, NH
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780307476432
  • Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
  • Publication date: 9/6/2011
  • Pages: 304
  • Sales rank: 485,517
  • Product dimensions: 5.10 (w) x 7.90 (h) x 0.70 (d)

Meet the Author

Matt Burgess
MATT BURGESS, a twenty-seven-year-old graduate of Dartmouth and the University of Minnesota’s MFA pro­gram, grew up in Jackson Heights, Queens.
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Read an Excerpt



Part One


Little Round Pills

In the middle of Alfredo Batista's brain there is a tall gray filing cabinet, frequently opened. The drawers are deep, the folders fattened with a lifetime of regrettable moments. There is, tucked away toward the back, a list of women whose phone numbers he never asked for. There are the debts accrued. In the bottom drawer, in separate folders, there are the things he never learned to do: drive an automobile, throw a knuckleball, tie a knot in a cherry stem using only his tongue. What else? In the top drawer, there is a file recounting the evening he left the Mets game early, thinking the run deficit insurmountable. There is the why-didn't-I-wear-a-condom folder. There is--this one's surprisingly thin--the crimes-against-my-brother folder. Alfredo is only nineteen years old, and already his cabinet overflows with files, none of them collecting dust, each one routinely inspected. All it takes is a random word, a face in passing, and a memory blooms, a cabinet drawer slides open. An intracranial research librarian--Alfredo imagines him bespectacled, with frayed pant cuffs and dandruff on his shoulders--waddles over to the open drawer, plucks out the appropriate file, and passes it on to the brain's well-staffed and efficiently run Department of Regret. Here, unable to help himself, Alfredo scrutinizes the folder. He re-creates the event's sensory details. He goes over, with sick and meticulous precision, exactly what was said and, of course, what was not said. He relinks the chain of events.

A new folder is to be added. It will be labeled with today's date, June 14, 2002, and above that, in blocky capital letters, a name: SHIFRIN, VLADIMIR.

"Who's Vladimir Shifrin?" Alfredo says.

Winston--a dark-skinned Haitian with long, delicate fingers--pulls down on the brim of his Spider-Man hat. He looks over his shoulder. Drops his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "From what I understand," he says, "Vladimir is a drug dealer."

"This is why you call me?" Alfredo says. "Why you wake me up? Drag me over here?"

They sit close together on a wood-slatted bench in Jackson Heights' Travers Park. There are other parks in Queens--like Astoria Park or Flushing Meadows--where you can snooze under a tree or stick your nose in trumpet-shaped flowers. These parks are pastoral, as the guidebooks might say. They've got grass you can yank right out of the ground. But here in Jackson Heights, the parks, like Travers, are asphalt parks, blacktop playgrounds. There aren't any flowers or butterflies, and that keeps exactly nobody away.

It's two o'clock in the afternoon right now--it's a nice, unseasonably cool, late-spring Friday--and Travers is packed. Everyone is out. Everyone and their mother is out. There are games of soccer, handball, freeze tag, skilo, and skully. Look around. Shirtless men play netless basketball. A father snaps pictures of his little girl, while a Chinese woman dances to the water-like rhythms of tai chi, while teenagers bum cigarettes off the neighborhood schizo, while bees, drunk with pleasure, swarm the bottoms of trash cans. The swings squeak. An old Jewish man--Max Marshmallow, Alfredo's friend--checkmates another old Jewish man whose body deflates like a popped bag of potato chips. A little white boy, oddly calm, has his head stuck between the vertical bars of a fence, and Alfredo can't help but think of his own brother, the newly named Tariq, spending his last hours up at the Fishkill Correctional Facility. On Travers's softball field, Pakistanis play cricket. On a bench in the sun, the Mexicans who didn't get...

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Interviews & Essays

A Conversation between Matt Burgess (author of Dogfight: A Love Story, a 2010 Discover selection) and Ethan Rutherford (author of The Peripatetic Coffin and Other Stories)

Matt Burgess: So The Peripatetic Coffin is pretty much my Platonic ideal of a short story collection. (Although, full disclosure, I had to look up what peripatetic means.) There's a wonderful range of subject matter here—with stories about a civil war submarine, behemoths that live under the sand, contemporary couples under stress, and the aching summertime friendship between young boys—and yet it's obvious reading them that they've all come from the same heart and mind. There's a question here, I promise. So you're a musician. And the experience of reading these stories as a collection, from the first story all the way through to the last, is like listening to the kind of record where you can just put it on and press play. So are there similarities there, between structuring an album and putting together a collection? How do you order the stories? Did you ever lay them all out and realize you needed to write a certain kind of story to fill a gap or provide some kind of glue?

Ethan Rutherford: Well, that's really nice of you, and you'll be happy to know you're in good company with "peripatetic" (heck: I had to look it up). I promise, though: it's not just me being fancy. "The Peripatetic Coffin" was the nickname given to the H.L Hunley, the first Confederate submarine, during the Civil War. The first story in the collection is set aboard that ill-fated and unlucky (though ultimately successful?) submarine, and when it came time to name that story, as a writer you sort of go: well, the title is sitting right there in front of you isn't it? And when it came time to title the collection—which is very very hard, by the way, or at least, I found it to be so—after many terrible ideas, someone pointed out that "the peripatetic coffin" in many ways works for a lot of the stories, as sort of a catch-all caption, a thematic umbrella, if you will. And so: voila!

As for the overlap between writing and music—nothing makes me happier than imagining people approaching this book like an album, because I think you're right: the concerns in putting a collection of stories and an album together are similar. Ideally you want to end up with a whole that is somehow greater than the sum of its parts—an album is more than just a bunch of songs thrown together, and the same goes for a collection of stories—and the magic, if there is any, is in the arrangement. The point is to keep people interested in moving from one story to the next, and to build toward something without repeating yourself. So you know you have to start with a hook, an ear-bug, to get the whole thing off the ground with some momentum. You know that there's some weird mystical pressure on track 3 and track 7. You know you have some room at the end to do something like "Moonlight Mile," a longer, weirder song than all the rest, but also, secretly, your favorite—because if people have stuck with you till the end, they'll follow you a little further afield. As for organization, there are three "boat" stories in this book—one set aboard the first Confederate submarine, one set aboard a ship locked in Arctic ice, and one that takes the shape of a futuristic whaling expedition—and it seemed important to keep those stories away from each other. So they go first, middle, last, and I think of them as sort of propping up the collection. The process of putting the collection together, for me, was the process of deciding which stories to leave out.

MB: I know we're both Raymond Carver fans, and he always said he wanted to keep things moving in his stories. "Get in, get out," he said. "Don't linger. Go on." Now obviously I don't really agree with that don't linger business—it seems to me that so many writers lately are abandoning scenes just as things are getting dangerous—but I am interested in this idea of getting in and getting out of stories efficiently. The Peripatetic Coffin is full of killer beginnings and endings. One of the real pleasures of reading a story collection like this is how all the last lines made the hairs on my arms stand up, which can only happen once in a novel. How do you get readers in the door? And then once you got them inside, how long do you want to hold onto them? When and how do you toss them out the window?

ER: That's an interesting question, and not one I think I can really answer, though I'm glad you liked the last lines. I am, somewhat shamefully, a last line reader. If I'm unsure about whether I'm going to read a book or not, I'll take a look at the last page, and if that's interesting enough, I know I'll go ahead and read the whole thing. One of the things that Carver often did was end his stories mid-gesture, and it had a way of opening up his stories right there at the end, just as they should be winding down. The result is that each story feels larger than it, in fact, is: suddenly in looking at one small and definitive moment, you understand that you are looking at many moments in this character's life, and the result is that as a reader you feel as if you've arrived at some sort of revelation, or, less heavily, some sort of understanding regarding what the story has been about all along. Endings like this—that end with action, with characters doing something—simultaneously herald finality and cling to the hope that perhaps this time, this time things will end differently. So, if and when I pull back on a scene, that's the idea there. To let some light in. To give a sense of finality without being final about it.

MB: There's a great balance in the collection between contemporary and historical stories. What sort of research did you for both?

ER: Oh the research! I'd say the research was equivalent for the historical and contemporary stories, which is to say that for as much time as I spent researching Civil War submersibles I spent even more time reading up on Brian Bosworth's football career. Reading is the real pleasure for me. But research tends to work slantwise in my stories. I think I'm writing a story about one thing, then I do some research, and that new information grabs the wheel for a bit, and then the story comes out very differently than I'd expected. I spent a summer reading nothing but the logbooks of whaling ships directly following the golden age of American whaling, thinking I'd write the Second Great American Whaling Novel, but rather than a white whale, the monster would be a giant squid. I really thought that was going to happen, and that I was the guy to do it. That project was thankfully scrapped, but later on, all that research found it's way into the science-fiction story that closes this collection. All of this is just a long way of saying: all of my ideas and stories come from reading and research like this, but it's often hard to tell at the time how it will all shake out.

MB: One of my favorite things about the book is your careful attention to plot. These stories are simultaneously character-driven and page-turners, and in that way harken back to the roots of the American short story with Hawthorne and Poe. But despite the crazy things that are happening—behemoths under the sand!—there's a real restraint in the way you present the material. I want to get better at that in my own work. I want things to be exciting in my fiction, but fiction is most exciting for me when it's telling the truth. Otherwise, why bother? How do you strike that balance? How do you know when to pull back in a scene? There are so many moments in this collection where I thought, 'I would've plucked the wings off the fly here, but Rutherford doesn't, and it's a better story because of it.'

ER: Can we just talk about plot for a second, since one of the things I admired most about your novel Dogfight was the propulsion that novel had? I've always loved eventful books—my first favorite book was The Twelve Labors of Hercules, and I loved comic books, and movies, and choose your own adventure stuff—and so that's the farm team for me, if you know what I mean? I learned to love reading because that's where you went when nothing was really going on in your life—that's where things were happening. So when I sit down to write my attention immediately drifts toward action and causality (which is to say: plot).
But the danger there for me is that it's so easy to get wrapped up in the plot—getting all the gears to turn, the pieces to fall, the action to rise—that at the end a reader will go: well, I know what happened in the story, but what's it about? It's taken me a long time to understand the ways in which plot can be used as a delivery mechanism for the real work of fiction, which you call "truth" in your question. For me, it's even more simple than that: all I'm trying to do is evoke an emotional state that might resonate with a reader. But you can't just say to someone: here, feel this way. You have to build a world for the reader to enter, before he or she will be receptive to whatever emotional information you're trying to pass on. So, to your question: I pull back in a scene is when I feel like the plot is in danger overwhelming the story, and obscuring what the story is about—to signal to the reader that there is important stuff happening underneath the plot, that what I'm trying to get across is more than just: this happened, then this, then this. Which is not to devalue the fun stuff. And all the fun stuff—characters going on adventures, finding themselves in untenable and dangerous situations, wondering whether to stay with the boat or walk across the ice—it shouldn't be overlooked.

MB: One of the major life changes for you between the writing of these stories and the publication of them is that you're a dad now. Looking forward, how do you see that influencing your work? Your approach to fiction? What's next after this? What do you want to get better at?

ER: Well, I'm deep into a novel now, which—perhaps not coincidentally—has to do with the anxiety of losing a child to a cause that you yourself don't understand. As for the way becoming a dad has influenced my work, it's hard to say. Maybe ask me in a few years? I can tell you that the long days of uninterrupted writing are gone. More interesting to me, though, is that I seem to have lost my taste for violence, and it happened almost overnight. For years I've operated under the assumption that tension in a story came exclusively from the threat of violence, but here I am, a dad now, and I no longer find the thought of dying terrifying in an interesting way, I just find it terrifying in a terrifying-and-what-a-waste sort of way. My goal now is to live forever, and to just be able to watch my son as he grows up and encounters all the things that will come his way in life. As for what I'd like to get better at as a writer, I'd like to be able to write a story where nothing unpleasant, really, happens, but still be able to make it riveting, and resonant. And if that doesn't quite pan out, then I guess I'll just throw in a giant squid, for good measure, and for plot's sake.

MB: Who have you discovered lately?ER: Looking backward: Richard Hughes, who wrote In Hazard and A High Wind in Jamaica. NYRB Classics has reissued them, with wonderful forewords. Go read them; they're great. Looking forward, I'm excited to read Necessary Errors, a novel by Caleb Crain, which will be out in August. I've admired Crain's criticism for a while now, and I'm excited to see what the novel will be like.

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 3.5
( 13 )
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Sort by: Showing all of 14 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted December 29, 2010

    recommend - fun read

    This was a fun read. The story is interesting and suspenseful with interesting characters. It is reminiscient of "Clockers" but with a little less mystery.

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 5, 2013


    It snowed today it was awsome in homewood its about 1or 2 in ps..
    This was a great book

    1 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 11, 2011

    Style similar to Junot Diaz

    Very good.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 31, 2012


    So the boy that was going to ask the girl out so i am single.

    0 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted November 4, 2012


    Me to im taqqiq

    0 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted November 10, 2012


    Halik: Good morning! Say, who likes Taylor Swift?

    0 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted November 5, 2012


    Duchess howls.

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted November 10, 2012


    I am

    0 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted November 3, 2012


    I was going to ask a girl out but she has a boyfriend

    0 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted November 10, 2012



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    Posted March 10, 2011

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    Posted November 7, 2011

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    Posted March 19, 2011

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