Response: "Death of a Pig"

Among our classic readings this week, E.B. White’s “Death of a Pig” was the piece that resonated most deeply with me. I know this is partly due to my rural . . . er, country . . . upbringing. The subject matter is familiar, and with very few modifications—the removal of the telephone, for instance—“Death of a Pig” could have been written in 1848 rather than 1948. (And with an update of the tech, this experience would fit into a contemporary issue of Lancaster Farmer.) But for a number of reasons, I also think that this story could have timeless appeal for readers who haven’t lived the “antique pattern,” kept vigil in a barn, or dug a grave.

Sympathetic Characters

The liveliest characters in “Death of a Pig” are non-human—but this is not to say that they aren’t humanized. Though the pig is never named, White presents him as something like a sickly child: it is worrisome when he fails to show up for dinner, he reacts hatefully to taking nasty-tasting medicine, and White checks him for a fever with his hand (touching his ears, rather than his forehead). White makes eating noises to encourage the pig to eat, calls him a “patient,” and checks on him regularly through the night. He is now connected to this creature, as soul to body, by “the silver cord.”

These details not only make us sympathetic to the pig, but also act to better define White’s own character. Fred the dachshund also contributes here; he is personified as a “happy quack” and acts as comic relief, his joyful, troublemaking nature rubbing up against the narrator’s despair. (White writes about him with such affection and exasperation, like: “I love you . . . but you’re sort of awful.”)

For me, the stories that stay with me are those that make me feel something for the characters—and in this case, I definitely sympathized with White and his four-legged protagonists.

Universal Themes

In our classes, we often talk about the big themes that make our stories relatable to our readers. Largely, “Death of a Pig” is concerned with the relationship between humans and animals and how certain circumstances, such as illness, affect that connection.

This story also explores the human fear of sickness, as White deals with the fact that he might have gotten erysipelas from the pig. (Brilliantly, he describes his worry about the illness as “fastening its hooks in [his] head.”) Likewise, White struggles with feelings of uselessness as the pig’s health continues to decline. The reader is prepped from the beginning for a tale of death and loss, and “Death of a Pig” delivers.

The most resonant theme in this story, however, is the painful disruption of expectations.

While White is deeply affected by the pig’s illness, he was raising the pig for food. The pig was destined to die—just not in this way. It’s the deviation from the “script” that disturbs White, and I think that this feeling is universally familiar in some form or another—it’s the pain of the sudden twist, or an “awakening,” as White terms it. Essentially, the pig’s unexpected death makes White question his personal autonomy and power over his own life. Regardless of the subject matter, it's a greater theme like this that makes a story accessible to readers across time and circumstance.

Survival in the Digital Age?

The Atlantic lists this story under the simple heading of “Animals” and has not updated it with any of the features we’ve examined in more recent stories: no hyperlinks, embedded videos, etc. The sparseness suits this story, though. (And in fact—aside from some illustrations—all of the classic stories we read were left in their original, text-only forms. It just seemed right for them to be that way, and it might be interesting to talk about why this is so.)

With or without contemporary updates, digital forms offer stories like these an extended afterlife  that they wouldn't have enjoyed otherwise. This includes the greater possibility of readers "stumbling" across the work—something that would happen far less frequently if the story was confined to print—and sharing it with many others. Though I'm still partial to print, I have to appreciate digital forms for allowing access to stories like these. 

*** I really wanted to link a picture of White and Fred here—but I couldn’t find one. I did find a Fred-related quote from White, though: “I've never had a dog who understood so much of what I said or held it in such deep contempt.” Ha!