OF VEGETARIANISM AND MADISON COUNTY, ETC.
By Carole Hamlin
Vegetarians and those working in the movement to open more people's eyes to the plight of non-human animals in our society can take heart in the growing popularity in American culture of many of their ideas.
The most popular novel in this country right now is Robert James Waller's The Bridges of Madison County. This amazing book has been on the New York Times Bestseller List for over a full year now. The principal protagonist, Robert Kincaid, whose story has been compelling to so many readers, is an ethical vegetarian who, in many respects, is a reflection of the author himself. Debra Wasserman, editor of Vegetarian Journal, met Waller at the American Booksellers Convention last spring. Waller told Debra that he became a vegetarian five years ago after visiting a pig slaughterhouse in the Midwest, where he lives.
The interesting thing about Waller's book is that it is a poignant, absorbing love story not at all focused on the morality or rationality of vegetarianism or animal rights. Waller's message, however low-key, is nonetheless effective. I wonder if its impact might be even greater for the lack of "political correctness" in the author's tone. For me the book was a wonderful surprise. I heard a piece on National Public Radio about Waller and the romantic tale he had told. I don't believe anyone mentioned vegetarianism in the radio story. (Debra Wasserman told me that Waller said that interviewers generally don't ask him any questions about vegetarianism, and perhaps this means that vegetarianism is now considered more mainstream.)
I sat down to read the book on a Sunday afternoon. As the tale unfolded, I was overwhelmed with emotion time and again at certain things Waller wrote. My heart was touched — the star of the show was a vegetarian! And he cared about animals, too! Here was a very attractive character that many people would relate to, and he said things like, "Just the vegetables would be fine for me. I don't eat meat. Haven't for years. No big deal, I just feel better that way."
Another passage from the book that is meaningful to me is as follows"In contrast with the local folks, who fed on gravy and potatoes and red meat, three times a day for some of them, Robert Kincaid looked as if he ate nothing but fruits and nuts and vegetables. Hard, she thought. He looks hard, physically." "It already smells good," he said, pointing toward the stove. "It smells... quiet." He looked at her. "Quiet? Could something smell quiet?" She was thinking about the phrase, asking herself. He was right. After the pork chops and steak and roasts she cooked for the family, this was quiet cooking. No violence involved anywhere down the food chain, except maybe for pulling up the vegetables. The stew cooked quietly and smelled quiet. It was quiet here in the kitchen.
It's only a book. But if you care about animals and relish a suspension of disbelief that can take you into the characters' lives to the extent that your bodily functions may be affected, read The Bridges of Madison County — and have a handkerchief within reach. As Sydney Pollack (who may direct the upcoming movie version of the book) was quoted in Entertainment Weekly saying, "It's not literature, but it is touching."
Also, perhaps not literature, but certainly of quality and popular among New York theater-goers, is Wendy Wasserstein's newest play, The Sisters Rosensweig. This comedy/drama is about the lives of three sisters, one of whom is courted by arguably the most likable and attractive character in the play. Robert Klein plays a middle-aged New Yorker named Mervin Kent who describes his occupation with an unhesitant deadpan as follows: "Well, I was a showbiz and novelty furrier; now I am the world leader in synthetic animal protective covering." This line elicits great laughter from the audience. Here we have just a few words, almost a throwaway line whose purpose is to get a laugh, but they make the point that this likeable character no longer deals in real fur.
This past summer's most popular movie, Jurassic Park, stars Laura Dern as a paleobotanist who in one scene marvels at the dinosaurs she and her colleagues have discovered and soon after sits down to lunch, which happens to consist of some other animal's flesh. The sight of it on her plate makes her recoil; you get the impression she won't eat it. And another young female character in the film announces in response to a question, "I'm a vegetarian."
Stars on a couple of the most popular television series have expressed their concern for animals and support for vegetarianism by doing such things as wearing tee-shirts with "Meat Stinks" printed across them (Sara Gilbert, who is pictured below, as Roseanne's daughter on Roseanne) and using drinking mugs featuring the logo for People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (Candice Bergen on Murphy Brown).
In popular music, many of us are aware that a number of the most successful stars are vegetarian and/or animal rights enthusiasts. The list includes Madonna, k.d. Lang, Annie Lennox (The Eurythmics), Natalie Merchant (10,000 Maniacs), Paul and Linda McCartney, and many others.
This is by no means meant to represent a comprehensive look at vegetarianism or animal rights in American pop culture, but I think we can take heart from their growing presence. If our views are invading the popular arts, how long can it take for the rest of the country to catch up?
Carole Hamlin is an editor of Vegetarian Journal and an active volunteer for The Vegetarian Resource Group.
