A Day No Pigs Would Die By Robert Newton Peck
(spoiler warning!!)
Recommended by my husband, who as it turns out is quite sadistic, and might very well hate me.
I have a complicated relationship with pigs. You will learn this about me if we dine ever dine together, because it will come up. I do not eat pigs. And I usually word it just like that. I do not eat pigs. Most times, I will then be questioned - “What about Bacon?” or ham, or sausage or … as if my reaction will be , “OH!! That’s made from pig? I didn’t know, nevermind, no I love bacon.” Yes I eat turkey bacon and some turkey sausage and beef hot dogs (if not made with pig casings - yes, aha, I am aware of the casings thing too.) And often enough I will asked if it's a religious thing, or if I am Jewish. I am not. Or it will be assumed it is because I think pig are dirty animals. Nope. Not that either.
I have learned to summarize it pretty succinctly for those who do not have the time or interest to hear my entire story, “Pigs are cute. I cant eat anything cute. Shrimp however are the ugliesst things you have ever seen.” This will usually get a chuckle, or a nod in agreement. Its true shrimp are pretty ugly. But it is a little more than that. It is directly related to having a conscious about what I am eating. I was a vegetarian at one point. There was an ever longer period where the only meat I ate was chicken or fish. I still have some issues with eating beef. Cows are pretty damn adorable. Have you ever looked into their big BIG brown eyes? Its pretty intense. And believe me you will not eat a hamburger for quite awhile after that.
One summer when I was a preteen, I spent the season in Maine with my cousin and uncles. There was a farm. Cows. Horses. And an extremely pregnant pig. While we stood and watched, that mama pig pushed out baby big after baby pig. It was fascinating, and beautiful.
Skip forward at some point in time, I visited the Catskills Game Farm and fed infant piglets with baby bottles. It was one of the most adorable things I had ever participated in at that point in my life.
And then there was that time in 8th grade when we were supposed to dissect a fetal pig. And I’ll be damned if that dead formaldehyde smelling piglet didn’t look just like those little squealers that were popped out of their mama that day on the farm. Nope. That wasn't happening. Give me a big fat ZERO on that task. I am not doing that. (We ended up being given the chance to opt out of the assignment. Boy, did I opt out pretty damn quick).
Fast forward to my married adult life. We are watching the TV show Survivor like its an addiction. But the participants have to literally hunt down a wild boar. Or pig. Whichever. They did. And they slaughtered it, and I ran from the room, sobbing. BIG FREAKIN’ NOPE on that one. Or that time we went to a pig roast. Oh no, this is sooooo not happening.
So here it is 2016. I have been married 18 years. And my husband recommends I read the book, “A Day No Pigs Would Die.” this sounds like a great book to me. No pigs would die. Says so right there in the title. The book takes place on a Shaker farm and the protagonist of the book has a pet pig, Pinky. Raised from a tiny piglet. I have to admit, I was probably suspecting a Charlotte’s Web happy ending. (Spoiler alert!! -->>) They kill the pig.
But wait it is much worse than that. First, they bring in this mean ugly mating stud, just to introduce him to the girl pig. Because you see, she hasn’t gone into heat yet, and they think that if they introduce her to this sexy macho male pig, it will get her all riled up and ready to go. But she wants nothing to do with him. In fact she won’t let him near her. Until he literally forces himself on her. YES , I am still talking about the pigs here. It is a graphic gory scene, a rape scene, including Pinky screaming and crying not only while this male boar holds her down and has his way with her, but even once he is done. She is left literally battered, bruised and bleeding. Seriously, it says that.
But no matter how many times this boar has his way with her, rapes her, she does not produce she is labeled as ‘barren’ . So they decide they have to kill her. She’s just got to go. She is of no use to the farm if she cannot produce, so she may as well supply food or profit of the sell of her meat.
The scene is described in such detail that I was left in tears. True, it was honest and very human. As best as I can tell, probably exactly how farmers did it in those days, extremely efficient. All while the boy watched, even assisted, because “That’s what being a man is all about, boy. It's just doing what’s got to be done.” (1) The boy “wanted to run, and cry and scream”(2) So did I, Robert. So did I.
They killed the pig. Horrible. Vicious and vile. My stomach was wrenched, my throat filled with bile, and I was emotionally destroyed by the mere words on the pages. On one side, that is a compliment, the fact that I was moved to such a emotional and physical response by someone’s writing. Those words were powerfully used.
However, why would MY husband recommend that I read THIS book. What in the sweet hell was he thinking? Me?, the one who won’t eat pork because pigs are cute, Let’s tell her to read the book that not only brutally rapes a child’s pet pig, but then viciously kills it!!
It was the last chapter that pulled it together for me, however. This book was not about a boy and his pet pig. Its about a boy and his relationship with his father. I didn’t see that until chapter 12. I was too busy focusing on the pig, that I nearly missed the true story. The boy’s respect for his hard working father, consistently earning his love and respect back, and eventually even the physical affection he craves. The boy becoming a man, wanting to become a man just like his father, and the father’s dream of more for his child. It's all there. If I re-read it, i would see it even clearer. But I am not picking up that book again. No way, nope. Not a chance.
(1) & (2) quote citations:
Peck, Robert Newton, A Day No Pigs Would Die (1972), New York, NY, Dell Publishing Inc.
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