“She is writing to herself, that is whoever is with her in the room when she is the only one there.” (Coetzee, 145) Sure this refers to Elizabeth Costello, but right now I am going to take over and adopt this phrase for my own purposes. I am writing to myself. But to myself, really? Who is it that’s with me when I’m the only one here? Who do I want to listen? I think we all need to ask ourselves this question. Not only in cases of animal rights or questions of humanity but in anything that we question. Those words and ideas that we “send out … into the darkness and listen for what kind of sound comes back.” (Coetzee, 219) These words must be contemplated, and further than that our ideas must be shared. What use is a thought that ends at its source, the thoughts of Paul West kept to himself, as Elizabeth Costello suggests? Those ideas can end, as plaques commemorating the dead, a “list of the dead and their dates.” (Coetzee, 173) Our ideas can translate into action but only if we consider the ‘other people in the room,’ those who are going to be impacted by them, or act on them—even if it is just ourselves.
When you're writing or thinking, who is it for?
Now to send out some words into the darkness.
Vegetarianism.
A pause. “Sorry, what was that? I was thinking about meat.” A lingering and embarrassed sense of resentment slinks forward. I’m not sure of everything that comes back after that word, but I know “goodness” comes along with it. This word tells me to try.
I'm not even quite sure what's going on in this picture. I guess humanity's a complicated thing.
Humanity
At first a rush of images, ironically unaccompanied by words. Of statues and equations, flickering senses of emotion and family. And something that wasn’t there—or wasn’t as present until recently—something much more sinister. I try to throw out that answer and get another. There is nothing as I try to sort out what I want to echo back. I am rationalizing. Appropriately. The images come back, just as blurred and indiscernible as before. I’m not sure what that word, “humanity” means to me either, anymore.
Many people probably think of cute animals when they think of the word "animal." But the definition should bring back more.
Animals
In light of what we’ve recently seen I think of Earthlings. The pictures I used to get of nature, a collection of beautiful and varying animals straight out of a children’s book, are gone. Or at least are covered by the images of Earthlings, shouting at me to listen. Reminding me again and again. The real question is how does this and the previous word, “humanity,” fit together? It’s easy—well, definitely not easy but easier—to see the connection from a human experience. We might not really understand the difference between animals and humans, but we have an idea. But how do animals see us? A phrase from Kafka’s, “A Report for an Academy,” struck me: “as if there were only one man.” (Anthology, 368) When Red Peter, the chimpanzee, was trapped in the cage he initially could not differentiate between the humans he saw. To him, we were the “same faces, the same movements.” (Anthology, 368) To animals that we do not have a deeper connection with, humans are all the same. A squirrel may like all of us because one person fed him some food at a park, but a stray dog may be afraid of every human because only one kicked him on the street. This phrase made me ask myself, and all the other people in the room as I’m writing—everyone, really—would you be proud if you were that one man? Are you treating animals the way they should be treated? Some people may say, “Who cares what animals think of us? Why does that even matter at all?” They are clearly missing the point. Animals are living and conscious beings which deserve just as much respect as anyone else. In my opinion, animals are not “biological automata,” like Descartes believed (Coetzee, 92), and if they are, we are as well. They are not objects, but others. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Think, selfishly, of the retaliating elephant in Earthlings. That is the anger and resentment some animals hold as captives, and it can be held against all humans: we are all one, after all. Can that honestly rest peacefully in your consciousness?
We should always be kind to animals.
No comments:
Post a Comment