I always appreciate a non-stereotypical grandmother in fiction and Jean, the protagonist of “The Animals in That Country”, is foul-mouthed, hard drinking and sexual. She also adores her granddaughter Kimberly who is the only human with whom she shares a strong emotional bond. Her colleagues at the zoo where she gives guided tours don't think of Jean as a real ranger. She's estranged from her son. She's blocked from posting on certain websites. And her occasional lover is more devoted to his boyfriend. So it's only natural she feels a connection with the animals she cares for. She humorously makes up voices for them while guessing what the beasts are thinking and establishes what she believes to be a special kinship with a dingo named Sue. A mysterious disease quickly spreads across Australia that causes a pinkness in the eye and humans to hear everything that living creatures communicate. Life at the zoo is upturned. People go mad being bombarded with the thoughts of animals and most distance themselves from them as much as possible. When Kimberly's infected father takes her away to discover what whales are really saying, Jean sets out on a road trip to retrieve her alongside her companion Sue. This makes for a highly unique buddy journey as Jean gradually becomes more attuned to the surprising things that all the animals around her are really thinking and saying.

Gradually the text of the story becomes more populated by the animal speech which is a kind of garbled poetry mixed with a heavy dose of profanity. Though it seems like complete gibberish at first it gradually takes on more meaning and I enjoyed how this novel challenges the reader to enter the mindset of other species. Most often we project human consciousness onto animals when wondering what they're thinking but it's more likely that the pattern of their minds is very different from our own. Naturally, if we could actually hear everything the creatures around us are thinking we'd be more aware of the way we are dominating and abusing them. But this novel doesn't romanticise animal consciousness either. The creatures Jean hears are often selfish, crude or tedious. While this makes McKay's debut a really unique novel it also becomes quite confusing to follow the narrative of Jean's episodic journey. However, I was particularly struck by the emotional poignancy of the end. Though Jean is a feisty character her hard exterior conceals a loneliness dwelling beneath the surface and this becomes evident through the dilemma she's presented with at the story's conclusion. This dystopian novel is thoughtful and unsettling as well as moving in its depiction of alcoholism and alienation.