Book Reviews
On the surface, the book is about a man and his dog, a giant, unruly yellow lab, what may be "the worst dog in the world." On another level, though, the book becomes a meditation on love, loyalty, unbridled joy, and intense devotion to life even in the face of adversity. These are the book’s lessons for our own species.
A LitLovers LitPick (Jan. '07)
Mr. Grogan knew the workings of Marley's mind. He makes that abundantly clear in Marley and Me, a very funny valentine to all those four-legged "big, dopey, playful galumphs that seemed to love life with a passion not often seen in this world." It's a book with intense but narrow appeal, strictly limited to anyone who has ever had, known or wanted a dog.
Janet Maslin - The New York Times
Labrador retrievers are generally considered even-tempered, calm and reliable-and then there's Marley, the subject of this delightful tribute to one Lab who doesn't fit the mold. Grogan, a columnist for the Philadelphia Inquirer, and his wife, Jenny, were newly married and living in West Palm Beach when they decided that owning a dog would give them a foretaste of the parenthood they anticipated. Marley was a sweet, affectionate puppy who grew into a lovably naughty, hyperactive dog. With a light touch, the author details how Marley was kicked out of obedience school after humiliating his instructor (whom Grogan calls Miss Dominatrix) and swallowed an 18-karat solid gold necklace (Grogan describes his gross but hilarious "recovery operation"). With the arrival of children in the family, Marley became so incorrigible that Jenny, stressed out by a new baby, ordered her husband to get rid of him; she eventually recovered her equilibrium and relented. Grogan's chronicle of the adventures parents and children (eventually three) enjoyed with the overly energetic but endearing dog is delivered with great humor. Dog lovers will love this account of Grogan's much loved canine. —Laurie Abkemeier
Publishers Weekly
Okay, maybe he chewed things and ran into screen doors, but Marley also taught Philadelphia Inquirer columnist Grogan the meaning of love.
Library Journal
Maudlin, embarrassing ode to a pooch. The author and his wife still qualified as newlyweds-they'd been married just over a year—when they decided to adopt a dog. Jenny, who had recently killed a houseplant (a "lovely large dieffenbachia with emerald-and-cream variegated leaves"), thought she needed to brush up on her maternal skills before she tried to have a baby. Hence Marley, a lovable Labrador retriever. John adores the reggae tempo of Marley's tail-wagging and enjoys playing tug-of-war with him. Within a few weeks, the Grogans felt confident about their caretaking ability and tossed their birth control in the trash. Jenny got pregnant, but miscarried; she embraced not only John but also Marley in her grief. And on it went: Marley got kicked out of obedience class. He developed a fear of thunder, which the Grogans discussed seriously with a vet. When the Grogans went on a trip, they left a six-page memo about Marley's care with the colleague who agreed to dog-sit. (Blessedly, the author only reproduces three-and-a-half of those pages here.) Marley appeared in a movie, The Last Home Run. Jenny got pregnant again—maybe it was because Marley sometimes lolled around in bed with the Grogans during their basal-temperature-ovulation-calendar-we-must-have-sex-right-this-second drill-sessions-and ultimately carried two pregnancies to term. But it feels as if Grogan has mistaken Marley for his first baby. He's like those people who prattle on about every single blessed thing their kids do—except in this case, it's a dog. Marley died at age 13, and the book ends with the Grogans thinking of adopting another puppy. Please, no sequels! Only the most alarmingly devoted dog lovers should bother withthis one.
Kirkus Reviews