The descriptions and emotions involved ring true. Here is a section where Rosen looks back on her expectations when entering academia:

When she had first begun this job, had moved from New York City to the Midwest, she had imagined that she would be among friends always. It pained her now to think of this. She had imagined a world in which people spoke of, thought of, nothing but books—in which there would be cocktail parties where people drew their heads together close to talk about a new poem in The Nation, the new book by Robert Hass, the miracle of Bishop; where they would quote Berryman, make arcane jokes that featured Pound or Joyce, press brand-new novels upon one another ("You must read this at once! and call me, no matter how late, and tell me what you think!"), exchange list of favorites, desert-island books, the books you knew you had to reread at least once before you died.

Herman captures these type of moments and thoughts perfectly (and there are a number of these moments in Dog). And I think this is what makes her writing interesting—outside of the obvious skill she brings to description, inner dialogue, etc.—her writing is almost emotional and psychological cartography. It is something everyone can relate to and wrestle with, and yet, because Herman's characters are just different enough from us, the exploration is fresh and new.

Dog is a short, quiet little book, but it is a pleasure to read. Herman's creative ability to capture the thoughts and emotions of her characters and her lively prose make her short works aesthetically pleasing and intellectually insightful. They may be small but they pack an understated punch. If you are looking for something different to read this summer, and something that is easy to take with you, I would encourage you to pick up Dog.