Old Major's Dream

I was introduced to the residents in George Orwell's Animal Farm many years ago, and have never forgotten how moved I was by the suffering they endured. As the story begins, all the animals of Manor Farm are suffering at the hands of man, cruel oppressors indeed. As the story unfolds, however, we are saddened to learn that a revolution that was supposed to result in the animals' independence, results only in them receiving a new oppressor, a new ruling class...their own brethren, the Pig. How does this happen? How could members of an oppressed 'people' become oppressors themselves? You'll have to read to find out. You won't regret it.

The story opens with Old Major, the most respected animal on the farm, gathering all the animals together to tell them of the strange dream he'd had the night before. What results is a collective call to free themselves from the regime of Mr. Jones, Manor Farm's owner. Here is an excerpt of the moving speech:

"Now, comrades, what is the nature of this life of ours? Let us face it:
our lives are miserable, laborious, and short. We are born, we are given
just so much food as will keep the breath in our bodies, and those of us
who are capable of it are forced to work to the last atom of our strength;
and the very instant that our usefulness has come to an end we are
slaughtered with hideous cruelty. No animal in England knows the meaning
of happiness or leisure after he is a year old. No animal in England is
free. The life of an animal is misery and slavery: that is the plain truth.

"But is this simply part of the order of nature? Is it because this land
of ours is so poor that it cannot afford a decent life to those who dwell
upon it? No, comrades, a thousand times no! The soil of England is
fertile, its climate is good, it is capable of affording food in abundance
to an enormously greater number of animals than now inhabit it. This
single farm of ours would support a dozen horses, twenty cows, hundreds of
sheep--and all of them living in a comfort and a dignity that are now
almost beyond our imagining. Why then do we continue in this miserable
condition? Because nearly the whole of the produce of our labour is stolen
from us by human beings. There, comrades, is the answer to all our
problems. It is summed up in a single word--Man. Man is the only real
enemy we have. Remove Man from the scene, and the root cause of hunger and
overwork is abolished for ever.

"Man is the only creature that consumes without producing. He does not
give milk, he does not lay eggs, he is too weak to pull the plough, he
cannot run fast enough to catch rabbits. Yet he is lord of all the
animals. He sets them to work, he gives back to them the bare minimum that
will prevent them from starving, and the rest he keeps for himself. Our
labour tills the soil, our dung fertilises it, and yet there is not one of
us that owns more than his bare skin. You cows that I see before me, how
many thousands of gallons of milk have you given during this last year?
And what has happened to that milk which should have been breeding up
sturdy calves? Every drop of it has gone down the throats of our enemies.
And you hens, how many eggs have you laid in this last year, and how many
of those eggs ever hatched into chickens? The rest have all gone to market
to bring in money for Jones and his men. And you, Clover, where are those
four foals you bore, who should have been the support and pleasure of your
old age? Each was sold at a year old--you will never see one of them
again. In return for your four confinements and all your labour in the
fields, what have you ever had except your bare rations and a stall?

"And even the miserable lives we lead are not allowed to reach their
natural span. For myself I do not grumble, for I am one of the lucky ones.
I am twelve years old and have had over four hundred children. Such is the
natural life of a pig. But no animal escapes the cruel knife in the end.
You young porkers who are sitting in front of me, every one of you will
scream your lives out at the block within a year. To that horror we all
must come--cows, pigs, hens, sheep, everyone. Even the horses and the dogs
have no better fate. You, Boxer, the very day that those great muscles of
yours lose their power, Jones will sell you to the knacker, who will cut
your throat and boil you down for the foxhounds. As for the dogs, when
they grow old and toothless, Jones ties a brick round their necks and
drowns them in the nearest pond..."


Note: I think we are truly blessed to have access to art, from literature to paintings to sheet music, that can educate, entertain, and inspire us long after the creator has left us. Anyone with a nagging thought or idea, please record it at once. These characters, Old Major, Mollie, Boxer, and others, haunted Mr. Orwell's thoughts for who knows how long. Thank goodness he wrote down what they had to say before it was too late. As a result, millions around the world have analyzed, discussed, and taught the meaning behind those words. I'm certainly inspired.