The JCI Prison Scholars Program

Tag: pigs

  • advanced literature, dec 1

    Animal Farm is starting to get depressing, but I think we all predicted that. And not all the animals are having a hard time. As top pig, Napoleon is in the pink. He’s even going to market and bringing home the bacon. By the end of these two chapters, Napoleon’s regime is definitely worse than that of Mr. Jones. As Napoleon’s animal-farm-coverhenchman, Squealer circulates disinformation, blaming everything bad that happens on the absent Snowball. He also accuses certain animals of plotting secretly with Snowball, which is obviously untrue. What makes matters worse is that the animals admit it, internalizing their self-hatred. Napoleon doesn’t even have the decency to give them a fair trial; he just has them taken round the back of the barn and the dog rip out their throats. So much for Commandment Six, “No Animal Shall Kill Any Other Animal.”

    These two chapters are important because they show how the animals are being manipulated into following anything Squealer claims Napoleon has said. The animals are so obedient that they don’t even realize how gullible they are. The truth is, they’re so used to having someone else think for them, that they don’t even consider objecting. They just assume Napoleon is right all the time.

    Although he uses the word “Comrade” and uses the inclusive “we,” Squealer is starting to speak in a formal way, beginning to isolate himself from his fellow beasts. No longer is he an everyday pig. Though he denies that the top pigs have power over the others, his speech, charisma and closeness to Napoleon all give Squealer implicit authority.

    For example, when Squealer bans “Beasts of England,” he says, “In ‘Beasts of England,’ we expressed our longing for a better society in days to come. But that society has now been established. Clearly this song has no longer any purpose.” When he says “we,” he sounds as though he is speaking on behalf of the other animals, but he is also assuming that they all feel the same way. He is not open to disagreement or protest. He pretends to be a “pig of the people” but is actually authoritative and hard headed.

    Although the book may be getting depressing, I’ve got a lot to look forward to. I really love hearing the men’s responses to this novel, because they’re so complex and interesting. I’m used to listening carefully to the thoughtful responses produced by Mr. Arey, for example, and Mr. Doyle, and Mr. Simpson, but last wAnimalFarm1eek I wasn’t prepared for Mr. Barnett’s paper. There was really too much for me to take in just by sitting listening to it—I had to take a copy home and read it again. And then there was Mr. Drummond’s impressively close reading. He gets right in there and turn the words themselves into a code to be cracked, creating mysteries he alone can solve. The progress of the pigs may be disheartening, but that of this group is just the opposite.

     

  • advanced literature, nov 25

    advanced literature, nov 25

    The men were not in a good mood today – and understandably so. According to a recent memo, the new DPSCS Secretary has decided that, from December 1, in order to curb the passing of contraband, there will be no more physical contact during prison visits–no touching, no kissing on the mouth, no hugging. What will this mean for the fathers of young children? Men with elderly parents? Newly-married couples? It’s difficult to imagine.
    animalfarm Though not, perhaps, for George Orwell. Our final book of the semester is  Animal Farm. Officially, it was Mr. Drummond’s choice, but a number of the men mentioned they’d heard about the book and wanted to read it. A couple of them, like me, had read it a long time ago but were happy to read it again. I introduced the book in class and discussed Orwell, his life and work.
    In a way, I wish I hadn’t brought up the notion that Animal Farm is an allegory, because although it’s interesting (and to some degree inevitable) to think about it allegorically, I also think there’s a lot to be said for paying attention to the story as a story. We began reading the book aloud in class. Comments made by Mr. Simpson and Mr.Barnett brought to my attention the fact that these animals are already domesticated and institutionalized. Their revolution is already doomed to failure. The very concept of revolution, in fact, is a human concept. Animals don’t get together and rebel. In the wild, different species are natural enemies (and a lot of these species are actually man made hybrids and don’t even exist in the wild).
    It was interesting to discuss Orwell’s prose. The pictures he paints are vivid enough to make Mr. Arey laugh out loud, which is a good touchstone in my opinion, though it that doesn’t seem to take much. The prose is almost invisible, but in a different way from Steinbeck and Hemingway’s prose. Hemingway’s sentences were so short, they called attention to themselves; Orwell’s never do. “Good prose is like a window pane,” wrote Orwell in an essay entitled “Why I Write,” meaning that good writing should allow you to see straight through to what is being said, without getting in the way. It should be clear and transparent, and allow you to see what is happening on the other side. Although some of the language here may be slightly technical or a little archaic, it’s generally perfectly clear.
    The attack from Mr. Jones and the other farmers is the first sign that the animals are going to have divided loyalties. This probably won’t be the only attack from the humans, so there’s going to be a need to concentrate on defense. But there’s also a need to keep their own ranks in order. And then there’s Snowball and his Utopian windmill. If it works, it could lead to a three-day working week—and Snowball’s a smart pig. But Napoleon seems even smarter, since he’s managed to privately train a pack of savage attack-dogs as his own private army to run Snowball out of town. Snowball is quickly forgotten, and before long the windmill is being discussed again, only this time it’s Napoleon’s idea.
    The men noted that the pigs are taking advantage of most of the other animals on the farm, realizing that they’re basically very good, but very gullible. Nobody has any real access to information, so rumors fly around and nobody knows who to trust, or even what really happened during the Battle of the Cowshed. The situation is in flux, and all the animals are anxious and excited, and in situations like this, manipulators can take advantage of the weak. It’s notable how dumb and ignorant so many of the animals seem, how much they’re at the mercy of the pigs, who are the only ones with any real knowledge, since they’re the ones who can read and write. And of course, the pigs are on top because the revolution was started by one of their own: Old Major, the heroic pig who revived the philosophy of Animalism.
    If the pigs represent political leaders and the animals represent the ordinary people, Orwell does not have an especially good opinion of either. With this cast of characters—and with attributes like greed, selfishness, fear and hunger for power—it’s difficult to imagine any political situation actually working. No wonder we’re in such a mess. In reality, animals seem to govern themselves much better than we humans do.