Outskirts Press, INC.

Touching, thought-provoking, and beautifully told

• Colorado Independent Publishers Association - EVVY Award Nominee

To pass on their history to someone is a custom of the elephant, so century-old Noah the Wanderer tells his story to a small boy who visits him at the zoo. Communicating in a silent language that bridges their species, he shares his life, from the day of his birth to the current moment. Across three continents Noah traveled as a free being, then a circus performer, sideshow attraction, and zoo exhibit. He witnessed everything the human world has to offer: kindness, cruelty, love, hate, peace and war. Along the way, he learned the story of his own kind, from the ancient times of Rome and Carthage to the modern holocaust of poaching and famine. And he learned that man and elephant have been inseparable throughout the ages, for they are more alike than any other creatures on Earth.

Book Review - Goodreads  September 25, 2025

SunshineSmiles101 (Loch Sport, 07, Australia)’s review of

Noah the Wanderer: An Elephant Memoir 

If you desire a book that comes at your heart softly and leaves you breathless with emotion, David Kilpatrick's Noah the Wanderer is the book. I confess—when I first picked it up, I was anticipating a sappy animal tale. What I discovered was so much more: a sweeping, soul-moving journey through the centuries, observed by the eyes of one amazing African elephant. It's not just a book about an elephant—oh no, it's a mirror held up to humanity, and it's absolutely beautiful. 

Kilpatrick hooks you on page one and whisks you into Noah's world. Born in the wild in Africa, Noah's early life is painted with such lush, poetic prose that you can feel the warm sun on your skin and hear the far-off rumblings of his herd. But that freedom doesn't last. The instant that Noah is seized—plucked from his family by poachers—you sense that loss as a body blow to the stomach. Then, a century of existence: circus chains, gawking mobs, chilly zoo cages. It's tragic, certainly, but Kilpatrick never intrudes into melodrama. Rather, he allows the inner strength of Noah's voice (yes, even wordlessly, the narration has a profoundly spoken feel to it) to bear the burden of the narrative.

The brilliance of Noah the Wanderer is how it takes one elephant's life and makes it mirror a hundred years of human existence—wars, social transformation, devastation of the environment, incidents of sudden humaneness. Noah isn't merely an observer; he is a witness, a survivor, and also a quiet judge at times. And despite all the brutality he witnesses, the book never gives an impression that it is hopeless. There are times—short, fleeting, but powerful—when humans catch him (and us) off guard with kindness. A kind zookeeper. A kid who sees him as something more than a stare. These times sparkle like stars against blackness.

The relationship between Noah and the young boy who visits him in his final days is at the emotional core of the book. They share no words, and their relationship is so powerful, so tender, it brings tears to your eyes. You realize that understanding does not always involve words—sometimes it is the gentle way a hand rests on a folded trunk, or the power in a shared silence to speak everything.

Kilpatrick's writing is lyrical but never sentimental. He counterbalances the grandeur of Noah's journey with intimate, personal remembrances—the sound of his mother's voice, the smell of rain on dry ground, the ache of loneliness in a steel box. It's an authorial trick, but it's like having a story whispered in your ear at midnight—soft, suggestive, not to be put down.

In the end, Noah the Wanderer is a book. It's an ode to perseverance, a reminder of mercy, and a testament to how much animals experience and recall. It made me cry, certainly, but it made me reflect—and about how we treat the planet, about whom we prefer to recall, and what we're leaving behind.

If you enjoy reading books that linger in your mind for years after the last page—or if you've ever looked into an elephant's eyes and wished you could know what they've seen—this book is for you. It's not only one of the best books I've ever read this year. It feels like one of those precious books that really count. Highly, highly recommended.