It is interesting that Coetzee brings up the common idea of avoiding the act of slaughtering, yet enjoy the benefits it provides. Wendy Doniger points out that “to treat animals compassionately is ‘very recent, very Western, and even very Anglo-Saxon,” because non-Western religions use their faith as an excuse for slaughter (641). She states that there is a “submerged guilt at the slaughter of animals” and that “another common ploy to assuage guilt – which is to say, to silence compassion – was to assert that the animal willingly sacrificed itself” (642). In Coetzee’s novel, David prefers not to see the slaughtering of animals but does not mind consuming them. He asks Bev, “Do I like animals? I eat them, so I suppose I must like them, some parts of them” (674). David begins representing the multitude of people who do not have strong feelings towards the treatment of animals because we push the negative ideas out of our mind. Lucy asks David “What would you prefer? That the slaughtering be done in an abattoir, so that you needn’t think about it?” (678). Unfortunately, this is the thought of all common people with regard to slaughterhouses and animal treatment. They would prefer to keep it out of sight and mind so that they can enjoy the meat they purchase at the supermarket. However, this character is changed by animals to gain a sense of compassion and sympathy for their well being at the end.
David’s transformation into a compassionate human being for other species completely defies Wendy Doniger’s point that “language is, I think, the place from which compassion springs. We cannot torment (or eat) the people we speak with” (647). Although she does refer to the Alice in Wonderland scene of The Red Queen telling Alice that we do not eat anyone we have been introduced to, this is still a horrifically false statement. Since we cannot torment the people we speak with, then she is implying that the human species has never engaged in warfare for personal gain, the innocent people of Darfur do not experience death every day, and the Holocaust never happened. Rather, compassion is the relationship that Barbara Smuts has with her dog when she describes it as “Safi and I are equals” (653). Doniger’s naïve statement encompasses the thoughts of most people who should understand the Holocaust analogy that “Auschwitz begins wherever someone looks at a slaughterhouse and things: they’re only animals” (725). Peter Singer is correct in stating that animals are “entitled to equal consideration of their interests, whatever those interests may be. Pain is pain, no matter what the species of the being that feels it” (638). Unlike Elizabeth Costello, David is changed for the better to feel compassion towards animals. Elizabeth Costello had great ideas, but “vegetarianism and compassion for animals are not the same thing at all” (643). Whereas she never acted upon her ideas, David buys a house close to the hospital so that he can continue his volunteer work at an animal shelter striving to put a humane end to the lives of animals that are doomed by their sheer numbers. It is fascinating that the same author can create opposing views and affects of the treatment of animals to appease to his diverse audience of readers on a difficult ethical matter.
In my opinion, we are all animals and share the same planet. The animals we eat, keep as pets, and seek to protect are no different than humans. I agree with Smuts that "the limitations most of us encounter in our relations with other animals reflect not their shortcomings, as we so often assume, but our own narrow views about who they are an the kinds of relationships we can have with them" (655). Just as Coetzee illustrated with David, animals will only enrich our lives.
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