Travels with Lizbeth

Starred review from August 26, 2013
A man and his dog survive in most precarious circumstances—and with something close to aplomb—in this classic memoir of homelessness, reissued for its 20th anniversary. Eighner (B.M.O.C.) spent the tail end of the 1980s living on the streets of Austin, Tex., with several epic hitchhiking excursions to Los Angeles and back in pursuit of dubious writing gigs, with his dog Lizbeth as his one steady companion. It’s a ground-level view of American life, built around the semiprofessional harvesting of Dumpsters for food and other necessities; scorched-earth warfare against fire ants; Kafka-esque run-ins with welfare agencies, hospital staff, cops, and dog catchers; the perpetual search for an unexposed place to sleep; the kindnesses of strangers; and the grinding boredom of having nothing to do but continuing to exist. The author tells this fraught picaresque with unsentimental clarity and deadpan humor, and the book includes vivid, Twainian sketches of a wandering demimonde of gay drifters and crazed drivers. Eighner’s material possessions dwindle, but the detritus that remains—dogfood, cigarettes, a sheltering shower curtain—adds resonance as a substrate of pleasure, companionship, and meaning. This most threadbare of lives makes for rich, entertaining reading.