Four Legs Good, Two Legs Better...?

     I first read Animal Farm when I was 9 and finished it only with a vague understanding of the message that the author, George Orwell, was trying to present. However, reading it again through the eyes of a brain that is now only 11 years short of being fully developed (25 apparently being the age when the brain is completely matured), was, I have to say, a much different experience. 

    Animal Farm is a tale about the animals on Manor Farm who have become tired of the way they were being treated by Mr. Jones, the farmer, provoking them to initiate a rebellion led by the two pigs, Snowball and Napoleon. The novel most likely alludes to Stalin’s Russia, which was when the Soviet revolutionary-turned-dictator, Joseph Stalin, was in power. In the book, Napoleon is the one who represents Stalin. The other pig Snowball represents Leon Trotsky, who was also a Russian revolutionary and had worked with Stalin until he was later exiled by him. 

The rebellion meant the start of a new life for the animals, a new era of freedom, but the pigs seemed to have a different plan in mind. Right away, there was the question of what to do with the cows’ milk, but Napoleon promptly steps in saying that the matter will be attended to. A similar situation happens with the apples; the animals had expected that they would be shared equally, but it was ordered that all the apples were to be given to the pigs. Squealer, the very convincing messenger pig of Snowball and Napoleon, explains to them why the pigs need the extra sustenance: “‘We pigs are brainworkers. The whole management and the organization of this farm depend on us,’” and “‘it is for your sake that we drink that milk and eat those apples’” (Orwell 36), especially in order to keep Farmer Jones away because “‘surely, comrades...Surely there is no one among you who wants to see Jones come back?’” (36). 

Earlier, unbeknownst to the others, the pigs had learned to read and write, so Snowball and Napoleon were able to paint the Seven Commandments of “Animalism” on the barn wall that all of the animals were to live by. Unfortunately, not all of them had gotten the hang of reading, so Snowball created an easier phrase to help them remember their main motto: “Four legs good, two legs bad” (34). The saying eventually evolved into: “Four legs good, two legs better” (134) after Napoleon took over (for reasons untold due to spoilers) and was trying to justify his actions that had increasingly become less pig-like. He also changed one of the commandments, “All animals are equal,”(25)  to “All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others” (134). These two examples are more obvious cases of how the pigs had slowly begun to take control, but even so, most of the other animals still didn’t recognize how the pigs had manipulated their power and status to the extent that the revolution had lost its meaning. Two of the animals did notice, however. Benjamin, the very old donkey, and Clover, a motherly horse who had her suspicions but doubts herself when she sees some edited “proof.”

 As I was reading, I had a hard time understanding why the other animals couldn’t see what the pigs were doing. It seemed quite apparent, at least from an outsider’s point of view. But I wonder if that was Orwell’s point. If you are within it, it is harder notice it because it is almost normalized. Also, since I am not the one experiencing it, there are no consequences for my opinions, while if an animal were to express their doubts about the leadership of the pigs, Squealer would most likely guilt them into thinking that it is a preposterous idea, and the other animals might treat them like an outsider as well. For example, Benjamin has been around for many years and is the only one who is aware of the pigs’ intentions, yet he chooses to stay quiet. Perhaps he knows that he won’t be able to convince the others and that it might not be worth the fight.                                                                            

Although the pigs start out as the revolutionaries who would lead the animals to freedom and equality, their rules and ideas begin to slowly circle back to ones they had first tried to be freed from. A bit like the revolution of the Cronut. People were unaware of their boredom of regular, everyday food, until the invention of the Cronut. It made everybody excited about this new culinary direction. The arrow was no longer pointing straight; it was now wiggly and pointed nowhere. There were brookies (brownie-cookies), sushi burritos, ramen burgers, and more. A food revolution had started. That is, until somebody took it one step too far, caught up in the competition of new food hybrids, and came up with a Cruffin, a croissant baked in a muffin tin. We had crossed the line so far that we were now back to the normal, everyday food, just in a different shape. Like this odd simile, though much more serious, the animal revolution had begun on a farm that only knew injustice and oppression, and was launched in hopes of changing the direction of farmlife. Yet the final result was ultimately the beginning, only in a different shape. The shape of a pig. 

    I think this book has some very important points and will be an interesting read, especially in these times. I hope you try it.

--Grace