The Cat

An insubstantial and somewhat precious homage to Animal Farm, Gray's third novel (after Mr. Narrator and The Political Map of the Heart) never quite comes into focus. Left in an empty house, the Cat--previously pampered with canned food and his owners' affection--learns to hunt again, much to the alarm of the intellectual Mouse and the proletarian, politically aware Rat. As Cat makes inroads into the garden (renting property to voles, for example, and thus discouraging their allegiance with those who would topple him), Mouse and Rat try to stave off the Cat's despotic rise. They discover the Cat's vulnerable area: he hungers not only for the deference of the various rodents he has cowed but also for the affection of humans that he once knew. Gray's satire thus at first seems to target the amorality of the ruling classes, only to turn its attention more squarely to capitalism--the hollow repast that never satisfies, the empty acquisition of material goods. The narrative doesn't gracefully fuse these possibilities, and so whatever incidental pleasure the reader takes in the animals' activities or in deft turns of phrase (the Cat regards his claws like ""a fistful of razors""), the novel is ultimately unsatisfying, lacking the allegorical clarity and narrative payoff the reader is initially encouraged to expect. (Nov.)