Author’s note: First and foremost, I would like to address my readers. I believe the readers play an intricate role to the text. How they interpret the text tells far much more about themselves and their culture than any writing could ever do. So in accordance to that remark, I will be writing in the first person. Yes, first person in an analytical response. For shame, but I believe it is a vital tool in unearthing the animal cruelty in Lewis Carroll’s writing. Furthermore, I will not conclude by summarizing my thoughts. Instead, I will provoke the reader (and myself) to think. Some may call this food for thought, but I digress that the questions are ones that Time would not allow me to answer.
I am the Walrus: Animal Suffering and Lewis Carroll
Click to play: I am the Walrus by The Beatles[1]
Download: ?media_id=F5C4B609D88343D599D6F57345E86125&sitename=b12325794706179301
The premise of the 1967 The Beatles song, “I am the Walrus,” is attributed to Lewis Carroll’s poem, “The Walrus and the Carpenter,” from the book Through the Looking Glass (1871). The Beatles nonsensical and psychedelic lyrics hold true to Carroll’s imagined world, although they did not fully understand that the Walrus was essentially the villain of Carroll’s story because they have identified us—us being all of humanity—with the Walrus. Indeed, the lyric “I am he/ as you are he/ as you are me/ and we are all together…”[3] demonstrates the identification with the Walrus, who hardheartedly eats a family of oysters and leaves none for his human cohort the Carpenter. He is greedy, apathetic, and altogether unkind. Yet The Beatles decided to write a lyrical contribution to the character, albeit with the influence of acid. This brings me to my earlier note—how you interpret the text reveals much more about yourself than the writing.
Reductio ad Absurdum: Lewis Carroll and Vivisection
Before delving into the depths of animal depravity in “The Walrus and the Carpenter,” I would like to set a basic foundation for Carroll’s opinion on the treatment of animals. In his 1875 essay, “Some Popular Fallacies about Vivisection,” he makes a clear distinction between animal suffering and animal death. The essay, by and large, introduces the two polarized opinions of animal “rights”. One being, “That the infliction of pain on animals is a right of man, needing no justification,” and the other, “That it is in no case justifiable.”[4] Here, Carroll wants to bring the reader to a happy medium by expressing that death is sometimes necessary, but prolonged pain is needless and cruel.
Yet, in Carroll’s eyes, pain is in no way justifiable. The seemingly never-ending torture of a creature is the true crime, where as a quick and painless death is seen as humane. He stresses the argument that death and pain are not homogenous by taking a statement from pro-vivisectionist Mr. Freeman and retaliating with a logical contradiction:
The only question worth consideration is whether the killing of an animal is a real infringement of right…[it] is illogical to assign rights to animals in proportion to their size. Never may we destroy, for our convenience, some of a litter of puppies—or open a score of oysters when nineteen would have sufficed—or light a candle in a summer evening for mere pleasure, lest some hapless moth should rush to an untimely end! Nay, we must not even take a walk, with the certainty of crushing many an insect in our path…[5]
With this, Carroll forces himself and the reader to draw a line—we must determine when anti-cruelty becomes an absurdity to follow. As with the Tiny Toon Adventures episode that I uploaded, the writer suggests, “Where does the line end?” by showing the pain of vegetables.
If plants endure the same pain and suffering as an animal (or human), then would it not be considered cruel to rip an ear of corn off its stalk and boil it in water to then eat? If the stalk bled red once the ear was torn off, or if the corn shrieked as the water scalded, the same logic of animal cruelty must be applied. The problem is that vegetables cannot voice their pain, therefore we do not listen. The same goes for the cries of the moth and the pleas of the insect—we cannot hear them. A practical solution must be made, which is Carroll’s message, for not all of us can turn to Jainism where a minimum amount of harm is equally given to both animals and plants. The solution, then, is separating and treating death and cruelty as separate entities.
An important aspect of “Some Popular Fallacies about Vivisection” is to remember that Carroll wrote it in 1875, one year before the Cruelty to Animals Act 1876. For this reason, the distinction between contemporary and past vivisection must be made. Do not read it as if Carroll is writing in 2009, but take into consideration the differences and improvements made in the past century, for Carroll writes about the immoral complications scientists face with the act of vivisection. One blogger that responded to Carroll’s essay had this to say:
If Carroll knew that more than a century later scientists have to go through rigorously monitored procedures to get permission to do anything involving animals, that there are alternatives involving cell cultures, fake animals, or computer modelling to reduce the need for animals in research or teaching to the absolute minumum, that any animals used are better cared for than many pets, and not purposely hurt, would he approve? I think he would. I think all of his concerns are dealt with, and what’s more: nobody would even dare kill part of litter of puppies for convenience![7]
However, I strongly believe that the core moral implications that Carroll suggested still exist today, “The lust for scientific knowledge is our real guiding principle. The lessening of human suffering is a mere dummy set up to amuse sentimental dreamers.”[8] The weight of the Cruelty to Animals Act 1876 held during the Victorian era is questionable. Even now, such anti-vivisection or anti-cruelty laws are not strictly followed. The scientific world still seems to function on efficiency and cost. The quicker, the cheaper, the better.
my experience, scientists are not minimizing the need for animal research. Robert Titus demonstrated to the class that thousands of birds were beheaded in the animal research labs for no particular reason. No scientific good was coming from it, no new discoveries were surfacing, yet bird after bird was killed.
In January, I attended a lecture by Tyrone Hayes about the chemical effects of atrazine in our water. The study was conducted on various types of frogs in order to ban the chemical from use. The results were that the frogs were born as hermaphrodites. In the testes, males were capable of successfully producing eggs.
“Atrazine induces gonadal malformations in males. The testes in this Northern leopard frog have been feminized. Not only have eggs developed, but they have accumulated yolk and are bursting through the surface of the testes.”[9]
The research is effective, but it is continuous. The research shows, basically, that atrazine in the water is not good. The results practically yell this conclusion, but the Environmental Protective Agency refuses to listen. Therefore, Hayes continues his research by expanding it to other amphibians, fish, and rodents in order to persuade the EPA. Here, I am extremely conflicted. I am upset that Hayes continues needless research, but I turn to anger when I realize that the research only continues to satisfy the EPA. This continuation of uncalled for torture in order to appease bureaucracy completely goes against Carroll’s protests against animal cruelty.
Playing with your Food: Lewis Carroll’s “The Walrus and the Carpenter”
Before I begin my interpretation, I must acknowledge the fact that Martin Gardener says, “As a check against the tendency to find too much symbolism in the Alice books it is well to remember that, when Carroll gave the manuscript of his poem to Tenniel for illustrating, he offered the artist a choice of drawing a carpenter, butterfly, or baronet.”[10] I will not discuss the importance that the Walrus is a walrus and the Carpenter is a human, and that the human is subservient to an animal. I will also not discuss that the food of choice is oysters, whose shells are drawn like the bonnets of babies. If the animal is not important, then the characters could be any type of animal. Perhaps switch the animals around and see if that influences the story at all. Make the Walrus an oyster, make the Carpenter a walrus, and make the Oysters humans. Instead of focusing on symbolism, I will focus only on the actions that take place—regardless of species—and the reactions of Alice and generations of readers.
For the original text, click here: “The Walrus and the Carpenter”
Now I would like to take a few steps back to “Some Popular Fallacies about Vivisection” where Carroll compares the needless abuse of animals to, “open[ing] a score of oysters when nineteen would have sufficed”[12] This is a reference to “The Walrus and the Carpenter,” where a bed of oysters are gluttonously eaten. Our hero Alice is unable to empathize with the eaten Oysters, but is able to ask whether to feel sorry for the Walrus or the Carpenter:
’I like the Walrus best,’ said Alice: ‘because he was a little sorry for the poor oyster.’
‘He ate more than the Carpenter, though,’ said Tweedledee.
‘That was mean!’ Alice said indignantly. ‘Then I like the Carpenter best—if he didn’t eat so many as the Walrus.’
‘But he ate as many as he could get,’ said Tweedledum.[13]
Again I would like to emphasize Carroll’s belief that death is not cruel, but it is the prolonged and superfluous torturing, which Alice ignores is unable to recognize in the poem. She focuses on the Walrus and the Carpenter’s feelings—not the Oyster’s.
To put simply, “The Walrus and the Carpenter” is the idea of playing with your food. Something, of course, that Alice does not empathize with. The reason I say “of course” Alice does not empathize is a result of her relationship with her pet cat, Dinah. Like many of us—and I say this with the confidence of reading other’s blogs—we are able to recognize our pets as family members, but little more than that. (In advance, I’m sorry Justin. I’m using your P1 as an example). In Justin Locascio’s P1, he demonstrates the bond between his dog and his father through a hatred of squirrels. This is a happy thought for the dog, but what about the squirrel that is being chased, caught, and killed? Like Alice, Locascio was only able to talk about an animal that he had a prior relationship with, not with an animal that his pet chased and killed. When Alice first enters Wonderland, she encounters a mouse. The only thing she can think of talking about—to a mouse, no less—was cats. She is completely unaware of the Mouse’s feelings at that point because she disregards the Mouse’s inherent fear of cats.[14] In relation to “The Walrus and the Carpenter,” this prior conversation with the Mouse needs to be understood because it sets the basis for Alice’s thought process. Like a cat with a mouse, the Walrus plays with his food before he eats them.
As the Walrus and the Carpenter sit on the rock with all of the Oysters standing in a row before them, the Walrus cries aloud for a loaf of bread, pepper, and vinegar, for they—the Walrus and the Carpenter—are about to feed. The Oysters then understand that they are about to be eaten, and cry out in fear, “’But not on us!…After such kindness, that would be/ A dismal thing to do!’”[15] The Walrus ignores their cries and strikes up a casual conversation with the Carpenter as they begin to eat.
Carroll does not explicitly describe the pain and the fear of the Oysters as he does in “Some Popular Fallacies about Vivisection”:
And when that day shall come…what potent spell have you in store to win exemption from the common doom? Will you represent to that grim spectre, as he gloats over you, scalpel in hand, the inalienable rights of man? He will tell you that this is merely a question of relative expediency, —that, with so feeble a physique as yours, you have only to be thankful that natural selection has spared you so long. Will you reproach him with the needless torture he proposes to inflict upon you? He will smilingly assure you that the hyperæsthesia, which he hopes to induce, is in itself a most interesting phenomenon, deserving much patient study. Will you then, gathering up all your strength for one last desperate appeal, plead with him as with a fellow-man, and with an agonized cry for ‘Mercy!’[16]
Perhaps Carroll does not tell the terror of the Oysters simply because Through the Looking Glass is a children’s book, and the Oyster’s story would frighten the young readers. But still, audiences have always identified with the Walrus and the Carpenter rather than the Oysters. I cannot simply state that the poem is written in such a way for the readers to identify with those characters. There must be a reason we cannot imagine the Oyster’s fear and pain.
However, Alice’s reaction to the poem supports Carroll’s beliefs about cruelty by asking “the traditional ethical dilemma of having to choose between judging a person in terms of acts or in terms of intentions.”[17] This echoes his vivisection essay where he talks about killing animals as a sport. Although he is thoroughly against hunting, he admits that, “I am tolerably sure that all sportsmen will agree with me…whenever the creature is killed at once, it is probably as painless a form of death as could be devised; while the sufferings of one that escapes wounded ought to be laid to the charge of unskillful sport, not of sport in the abstract.”[18] Here, Carroll again makes the distinction between death to an animal and cruelty to an animal, but also the distinction between act and intent. They are not, as many of us believe, hand in hand. And so, although the poem does not unequivocally describe the suffering of the Oysters, Carroll hints at the pains they have gone through. They were taken from their beds with ill intentions, were befriended under false pretenses, and heartlessly eaten by someone they trusted. This cruelty displayed by the Walrus and the Carpenter has been ignored for generations, and instead of finding their actions appalling, we have identified with them.
The popularity of “The Walrus and the Carpenter” is obvious through the many adaptations. They each have their separate morals, like Dogma‘s interpretation that the poem is an indictment of modern religion, and the more popularly known Disney adaptation, which is more of a recreation of Robert Browning’s “The Pied Piper” than Carroll’s story. However, the question I would like to leave the readers with is this: What do these interpretations say about us? About you? The issue of cruelty is never an issue within these texts, which we can logically assume means that cruelty is not an important issue within our culture.
WC Total: 2,700
WC extra: 866
WC: 1834
[1] The Beatles. I am the Walrus. Magical Mystery Tour. Parlophone, Captiol, 1967.
[3] I am the Walrus.
[4] Lewis Carroll, “Some Popular Fallacies About Vivisection,” Fortnightly Review [Londong: 1865-1934] 23 (1875 Jun): 847-854 [Online at Animal Rights History, 2003].
[5] “Some Popular Fallacies About Vivisection”.
[6] Slaughterhouse Jive. Dir. Rich Arons. 1990. DVD. Warner Brothers.
[7] http://network.nature.com/people/eva/blog/2007/09/19/alices-adventures-in-animal-experimentation. The typos are theirs, not my own.
[8] “Some Popular Fallacies About Vivisection”.
[10] Carroll, Lewis. The Annotated Alice: The Definitive Edition. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, Inc, 2000. 183.
[12] “Some Popular Fallacies About Vivisection”.
[13] The Annotated Alice. 188.
[14] 25-28.
[15] 186.
[16] “Some Popular Fallacies About Vivisection”.
[17] The Annotated Alice. 183.
[18] “Some Popular Fallacies About Vivisection”.
I think it’s important to situate Carroll’s poem within the larger spectrum of 19th century debates over vivisection, and acknowledge the absurdism with which Carroll wrote. Per vivisection, the debates (especially after Darwin’s Origin of Species was published in 1859 and derivative theories of social Darwinism and biological degeneracy spread far and wide) were complex and nuanced, with the polarities taking the positions one would assume of them. On one side, pro-vivisectionists were detached men of science who located an ethical and moral imperative on saving the human race from degeneracy through a thorough physiological investigation. On the other side, anti-vivisectionists were opposed to animal cruelty. But the majority of dialog happened between these polarities, amongst scientists and ethicists and philosophers (and writers) who saw the value of scientific inquiry and progress, but also saw degeneracy within the very acts of cruelty these scientists were exacting on animals and even people. Within this context, Carroll’s position of death over cruelty is actually quite progressive and humane. We can only judge those who came before through the lens of their contemporary morality, not ours. I’m particularly drawn to this passage from the poem:
The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said;
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head—
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.
But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat;
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat—
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn’t any feet.
It seems to me that the poem is an indictment to the young students who blindly follow these mad men (mad scientists) the disastrous ends. The Oysters are the very picture of medical students on their first day of their internship: “eager for the treat; Their coats were brushed, their faces washed, Their shoes were clean and neat.” That the mad scientists in this situation are a Walrus and a Carpenter shows the slippery slope between humans and animals when our morality is compromised. It’s interesting that Carroll allowed the illustrator to choose the second character. I wonder how the poem would have been interpreted should the Walrus and the Butterfly had been walking close at hand…