"And so, almost before they knew what was happening, the Rebellion had been successfully carried through: Jones was expelled, and the Manor Farm was theirs" (20).
Few allegories exist in the canon of 20th century literature so provocatively as does Animal Farm. C.S. Lewis called it "formally almost perfect; light, strong, balanced" with "not a sentence that does not contribute to the whole." The subject matter is presented so simply that children can (and often do) engage with the themes found within.
Perhaps the poignancy of the text can be accredited partially to this simplicity of form. How many treatises have been written proclaiming the atrocities of totalitarian states, describing historical and modern example after example, and exploring the innate human qualities that lead to a political imbalance that eventually destroys its own sycophants?
I often say that there are three protected groups, and a villain is easily made through the mistreatment of one: animals, children, and the elderly. I would argue that Orwell has created a story that compiles all three of these, by casting the characters as animals and imbuing upon them the qualities of both trusting children and the vulnerability of lifelong believers in a cause that accepts no less than everything. (These two points in time are conveniently not separated very greatly in span of time, for farm animals transition from young to old within a very short lifetime.)
There is so much to be said, but in the tradition of the book itself, I will jump right into the meat of it:
1. "All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others" (134).
Collective memory. A key element of the formation of Animal Farm is the written commandments on the side of the barn. Unfortunately, only some of the animals are able (or event desire) to learn how to read, meaning that they must rely on the others to communicate and remember the new laws. Degradation, within any scope or circumstance, typically occurs slowly, over time, as people forget what they originally stood for.
Every so often, someone will remember one of their statutes and take issue with the decisions of the pigs. Upon perusal of the barn wall, it will be determined that the animals must have gotten confused and read something different into what is written there. The reader, of course, knows that the laws are being minutely changed upon whatever occasion befits the pigs' aspirations. This plot concept reveals two seemingly contrasting viewpoints: collective memory cannot always be trusted, and communal experience should not be ignored in the interest of "general progress."
To explain the first: the animals become cogs in the machine that the pigs are running to only their own ultimate benefit. While they continually release the rights that they fought so hard to gain, until they are nothing more than indentured servants, the cycle of totalitarian oppression is revealed for what it is--permissed by the majority. The animals forget so quickly, remembering only what is continually presented to them, which is often a twisted farse; first, they lose their memory of how they functioned under the previous leadership. Then, they forget what truly initiated their revolution and what they fought to establish. Finally, they forfeit all sense of self not imparted upon them by their new regime.
The latter viewpoint is born from this resultant ignorance. When collective memory is mandated and free thinking is repressed, the only way forward seems to be in the name of societal progress. But who defines "progress?" And what sacrifices, individual and societal, are worthy of each progressive goal? Strikingly displayed first and foremost when the animals are forbidden from singing the anthem of freedom that elicited their great revolution, the (ironic) dehumanization of the animals climaxes with the merciless abuse and execution of Boxer, the revolution's staunchest supporter.
2. "And so the tale of confessions and executions went on, until there was a pile of corpses lying before Napoleon's feet and the air was heavy with the smell of blood, which had been unknown there since the expulsion of Jones" (84).
An allegorical warning. By the time the veil of collective progress is lifted and all-out violence ensues, it is already too late. The animals have given themselves over to a cause, a mere concept, without consideration for the nuances of humanity. But how could they know any better? They are merely animals. Perhaps Orwell chose this aspect of the allegory to indicate what people become in the eyes of a totalitarian government, nothing but fodder for the ruling power.
Conversely, many of the animals have the capability to educate themselves, but choose not to, thereby placing their unequivocal trust in a small group without accountability. Such a situation is untenable. It will ultimately always result in a cesspool of cyclical corruption...absolute power corrupts absolutely. Do we, the readers, hear these warnings, grasp their gravity, and apply such lessons? Or do we fail in small ways every day, not realizing the impact of the choices that we make to release our grasp on individualism and critical thought?
The brevity and cutting specificity of Animal Farm are synonymous with its success. Many dystopian novels exist, but Orwell's work stands apart in its form and application. History and human nature tell us that there will always be those who would abuse any chance at power, and it is the responsibility of all who have a staked interest in freedom to combat this propensity.
We hold each other accountable through the checks and balances of the democratic system; although imperfect, it is the sole governmental model that has proven itself a consistent method for protecting the rights of all members, as it considers each member an integral participatory part of the whole. There is a naive hope that Animal Farm will one day become obsolete, but I do not think this is so. The striving for its obsoletion is an understanding that the fight against corruption and violence rages on.
