Sam Munson, Dog Symphony ** 1/2

I recovered from the dense door stop Reconstruction with this short atmospheric novel. An American professor of prison studies travels to Buenos Aires to speak at a conference. When he arrives, he can't locate his sponsor and manages to lock himself out of his room at the B&B. He notices that each home has a pair of bowls at their front doors, one with water and the other with raw meat. As night falls, he sees quiet packs of dogs roaming the streets.

Dog Symphony establishes a foreboding mood whose elusiveness contrasts with details that make the story feel Argentinian (references to Borges and Cortazar; surprisingly clear geographical descriptions). But the transparently allegorical story doesn't go anywhere. It's like Munson built his world but forgot to populate it.