Montgomery's (Spell of the Tiger, 1994) at times piquant voyage of wonder to commune with the pink dolphin of the Amazon is marred by writing so unfiltered and moony it makes your teeth ache.
It can turn into a person, some say of this impossibly pink freshwater dolphin, and seduce both men and women. It lures children from parents and adults from their senses. It surely has Montgomery in its secret grasp - the stories that surround the dolphin have her positively gaga - as does its habitat: "Like the dolphins, the Amazon remains a great mystery, from which we seek to satisfy dizzying desires, to extract livelihoods and longings, and onto which we project our deepest fears, our darkest appetites." So it goes, and on and on. There is enough of the naturalist in Montgomery to remember that the dolphin, a rather glorious beast straight out of the Miocene, lives in the river as well as the spirit world, and she economically unspools the little that is known about the dolphin, though mostly question marks predominate. The are electrifying, if fleeting encounters: with a baby dolphin turning its pink belly to the surface, or a pair of dolphins swimming by while (for all intents and purposes) holding hands.