As critical animal studies unsettle conceptions of humanity and personhood, there is a rising interest in the role – and nature – of the so-called global citizen in modern times. For example, in a 2011 article on the cosmopolitan aspects of South African-Scottish writer Zoë Wicomb’s oeuvre, Dorothy Driver mentions that the theme of globalisation allows readers to focus on contradictions “which we may apply not just to humans (as much cosmopolitanism tends simply to do) but also to animals and the environment” (94). Wicomb’s latest novel, October (2014), is perhaps her most globally-minded text to date: set in the United Kingdom, South Africa and East Asia, it alternates between a range of characters and diverse settings including Glasgow, Kliprand, Cape Town and Macau. At surface level, the opposition of such contrasting spaces could suggest that the novel is mostly concerned with a simplistic rural-urban binary. Considering situational animal ethics in the text, however, it is evident that the ‘nature/culture’ divide is more nuanced: it is a device that foregrounds the complexities of principled eating (and living) as a modern woman. Much of the narrative involves conversations between two female characters who initially appear to be foils: one is a childless and well-travelled ‘modern woman’ whose partner has recently left her in order to start a family (Wicomb 56; 168), while the other is a rural wife and mother who works part-time at the local butchery (61; 99). As the narrative progresses, however, it is revealed that both are equally ambivalent about motherhood and – although they enjoy preparing it – are reluctant to eat meat. But their most important similarity is the plot’s central revelation: both were abused by the same man. Their shared narrative is an example of “the animal text” that illustrates a situational and communal sense of identity (Nyman 19); it is simultaneously critical of humanist cultural norms and perfectionist categorical imperatives. South African literary critic Wendy Woodward promotes “reading for animals by foregrounding literary or philosophical representations in relation, implicitly, to ‘real’ embodied animals” (354). Similarly, my argument is informed by the idea that there is merit in ‘reading for’ an inclusive vegan theory by considering how novels such as October treat human and nonhuman life. Through the technique of repetition, Wicomb’s novel inherits qualities of literary Modernism (which is well-known for its transgression of aesthetic boundaries). The text simultaneously disrupts hegemonic culture by thematising intersectional issues, from class boundaries to gender roles and sexuality, while remaining firmly situated in its socio-geographical setting. I consider postcolonial positioning to argue that images of animality and fertility link various privileges, demonstrating how ethical eating is troubled by classist complicity or miscommunication. Through her characters’ repeated ruminations on trauma and transculturalism, Wicomb gestures towards culinary hospitality, but also warns that cosmopolitan creatures must be open to conflict, futility and imperfection.
CORE (COnnecting REpositories)
CORE (COnnecting REpositories)