There are many great reasons to be vegetarian, and Don LePan's dystopia highlights the rationale behind one of them, "I don't eat anything with a face." Animals explores what it means to be human, where we draw the line, and what/who we decide falls low enough below that line to be eaten (after being systematically tortured). It also explores how those lines are justified and how they change when resources are scarce.
In Animals, children who cannot talk well become pets and/or are eaten, although the dystopian society uses justification and insulating language to distance itself from this harsh reality.
These imaginings are horrific and frightening. Personally, I prefer imagining vegetarian utopias where there are no slaughterhouses and society aims for universal equality and elevation. Readers may find perfection dull, but I think there is room for authors to be more inventive about dramatizing worlds of utopia, transformation, and positive possible futures.
However, to call attention to facts most people would rather ignore, to sound an alert, to derail complacency, and to give voice to abandoned perspectives — there's nothing like dystopia.
Pairs well with: Ninni Holmquist's The Unit and Kazuo Ishiguro's Never Let Me Go — other dystopias where the line is drawn disturbingly close to home (this could be you!). Also, Richard Adam's The Plague Dogs and the graphic novel We3 by Grant Morrison — books that give voice to those who cannot speak and remind us of atrocities that occur daily on our behalf. And, of course, Peter Singer's Animal Liberation mentioned by LePan in the author's afterword.
Writers, read this for: an interesting structure — a shifting third person narrative as related by Naomi telling her story of her love for Sam (who society has deemed a "mongrel") and that of Broderick Clark, Sam's brother, a scientifically-minded (and uses footnotes) anti-factory farming, small-farm advocate — and voice, LePan creates the internal dialogue of Tammy, the simple-minded, impoverished mother who gives Sam up; Carrie, a harshly practical, guilt-ridden woman; Sam, an intelligent and gentle being, who is unfortunately and heartbreakingly deaf; and Naomi, a maturing girl who, via her love for Sam, questions societal norms and becomes an independent thinker.
Quotes:
"Once again many people are quite willing to admit openly that they more or less know what they are doing is hideously wrong. They just don't want to really know." — Broderick Clark
"Inside himself, he wondered simple things: Why does it hurt so much? When will she take me home?" — Sam
"If you start saying things like that, thinking things like that, pretty soon people will be saying there's no line to be drawn. They'll start saying that anything which can move and can make noises is just like a human, is just as good as a human, should have everything a human has. But do you think a thing like that can take on the responsibilities of a human? Do you?" — Carrie, yelling
"Ah ink ah cud. Ah ink ah cud do at. Es." — Sam, unheard
"...the way someone looks if they love you, love you not for you only, but just for being like anybody else. You could imagine so many things if you looked in a creature's eyes, you could never know, it was like looking into clouds, or into water, you could never know really, it was better to look away."
In Animals, children who cannot talk well become pets and/or are eaten, although the dystopian society uses justification and insulating language to distance itself from this harsh reality.
These imaginings are horrific and frightening. Personally, I prefer imagining vegetarian utopias where there are no slaughterhouses and society aims for universal equality and elevation. Readers may find perfection dull, but I think there is room for authors to be more inventive about dramatizing worlds of utopia, transformation, and positive possible futures.
However, to call attention to facts most people would rather ignore, to sound an alert, to derail complacency, and to give voice to abandoned perspectives — there's nothing like dystopia.
Pairs well with: Ninni Holmquist's The Unit and Kazuo Ishiguro's Never Let Me Go — other dystopias where the line is drawn disturbingly close to home (this could be you!). Also, Richard Adam's The Plague Dogs and the graphic novel We3 by Grant Morrison — books that give voice to those who cannot speak and remind us of atrocities that occur daily on our behalf. And, of course, Peter Singer's Animal Liberation mentioned by LePan in the author's afterword.
Writers, read this for: an interesting structure — a shifting third person narrative as related by Naomi telling her story of her love for Sam (who society has deemed a "mongrel") and that of Broderick Clark, Sam's brother, a scientifically-minded (and uses footnotes) anti-factory farming, small-farm advocate — and voice, LePan creates the internal dialogue of Tammy, the simple-minded, impoverished mother who gives Sam up; Carrie, a harshly practical, guilt-ridden woman; Sam, an intelligent and gentle being, who is unfortunately and heartbreakingly deaf; and Naomi, a maturing girl who, via her love for Sam, questions societal norms and becomes an independent thinker.
Quotes:
"Once again many people are quite willing to admit openly that they more or less know what they are doing is hideously wrong. They just don't want to really know." — Broderick Clark
"Inside himself, he wondered simple things: Why does it hurt so much? When will she take me home?" — Sam
"If you start saying things like that, thinking things like that, pretty soon people will be saying there's no line to be drawn. They'll start saying that anything which can move and can make noises is just like a human, is just as good as a human, should have everything a human has. But do you think a thing like that can take on the responsibilities of a human? Do you?" — Carrie, yelling
"Ah ink ah cud. Ah ink ah cud do at. Es." — Sam, unheard
"...the way someone looks if they love you, love you not for you only, but just for being like anybody else. You could imagine so many things if you looked in a creature's eyes, you could never know, it was like looking into clouds, or into water, you could never know really, it was better to look away."
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