Lor d of the Flies, Pigs, and Zits

When I read the section where Slothrop dresses up like a pig, I immediately thought of Golding's Lord of the Flies. I don't know if Pynchon meant to allude to that book, but it's just something that I happened to take notice of. Slothrop, I felt, represented that little fat kid, Piggy, from Lord of the Flies. The children "prod his stomach," declare him the "fattest man in the world," and ultimately ask him to wear a pig costume (578). I was half expecting them to hunt him down and stick his head on a pole or something!

This section also made me wonder, "Why a PIG?" I don't have a companion, so I don't know if this is already something that is explained, but it just struck me as odd that Pynchon would go pig-crazy. The talking female pig that grows more and more attractive in Slothrop's eyes was entertaining in a weird beastiality kind of way...

This little piggie went to the market....

A continuation to Kodiak Sasha's post:

There's an important bit about the pigs on page 564-5 that I'm not really exactly sure what to make of in light of Slothrop taking up the pig suit.

Man in the Western World abides by the rules of the system, but in the colonies where he is free from the system, he may follow his natural impulses alone. "Christian Europe was death" (322) in the same way that the text constantly reminds us that the system fueling the war and its aftermath depends on death. To lose sight of death and indulge life in the colonies is to free oneself from that system.

Oink Oink

The lengthy descriptions of Slothrop in the pig costume and later Osbie Feel's tattoo (page 651) reminded me of the discussion we had about animals and colonialism on Jan. 31st in class, where Herreros, then the Europeans are animals...

I went back and looked at the text on page 322 to see which animals are referenced, if any. It reads:

"...Oh, no. Colonies are much, much more. Colonies are the outhouses of the European soul, where a fellow can let his pants down and relax, enjoy the smell of his own shit. Where can he fall on his slender prey roaring as loud as he feels like, and guzzle her blood with open joy. Eh? Where he can just WALLOW AND RUT and let himself go in a softness..." (caps mine).

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