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Wild Dog

Serge Joncour
Chapters (64)
  1. Cover
  2. Part I
  3. July 1914
  4. Spring 2017
  5. August 1914
  6. Spring 2017
  7. August 1914
  8. August 2017
  9. August 1914
  10. August 2017
  11. August 1914
  12. August 2017
  13. August 1914
  14. August 2017
  15. August 1914
  16. August 2017
  17. September 1914
  18. August 2017
  19. Part II
  20. September 1914
  21. August 2017
  22. September 1914
  23. August 2017
  24. September 1914
  25. August 2017
  26. September 1914
  27. August 2017
  28. October 1914
  29. August 2017
  30. October 1914
  31. August 2017
  32. October 1914
  33. August 2017
  34. October 1914
  35. August 2017
  36. October 1914
  37. August 2017
  38. May 1915
  39. August 2017
  40. May 1915
  41. August 2017
  42. May 1915
  43. August 2017
  44. Part III
  45. August 2017
  46. May 1915
  47. August 2017
  48. May 1915
  49. August 2017
  50. June 1915
  51. August 2017
  52. July 1915
  53. August 2017
  54. July 1915
  55. August 2017
  56. July 1915
  57. August 2017
  58. July 1915
  59. August 2017
  60. July 1915
  61. August 2017
  62. July 1915
  63. August 2017
  64. Epilogue

Cover

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Serge Joncour is a novelist and screenwriter. He was born in Paris in 1961 and studied philosophy at university before deciding to become a writer. He wrote the screenplay for Sarah’s Key starring Kristin Scott Thomas, released in 2011. Wild Dog, winner of the Prix Landerneau des Lecteurs in France, is the first of his novels to be published in English.

Jane Aitken is a publisher and translator. She was awarded the Chevalier des Arts et des Lettres in 2009 for her work in promoting French literature in the UK.

Polly Mackintosh is an editorial assistant and translator.

WILD DOG

Serge Joncour

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Part I

PART I

July 1914

July 1914

No one in the village had ever heard sounds like that coming from the hills. Wild, desperate sounds. The first shrieks rang out around midnight, distant at first, but moving closer and closer. Even the old people could not identify the source of the noise. It was as though some frenzied ritual were taking place up there in the woods, a savage brawl that seemed to be making its way towards them. At first the villagers thought it must be foxes or lynxes fighting over captured prey. The feverish sounds of these small, rabid beasts making their kills often disturbed their nights. Or it could have been the distinctive howling of local wolves, which pitched their cries to make the pack sound more fearsome. Previous attempts to keep them at bay by scattering the ground with strychnine had been unsuccessful, so tonight villagers young and old were roused from their beds to bang spoons against their pots and pans in the night air, a tried and tested method of keeping wolves away.

At night, the woods were alive with hidden sounds and rustling movements. Under cover of darkness, animals reclaimed their territory, free from human interference. In the village it was often possible to make out the sounds of unseen beasts hunting, mating or fighting. The night belonged to them, and this night more than any other.

‘It almost sounds like—’

‘Be quiet!’