These
notes record all editorial emendations in the present
text to the first edition of Piggy. Each entry
contains the reading of the present text before the
“]” and the reading of the first edition
after the “].” Thus “1 little ] litle”
indicates that in the first line of the poem the misspelled
“litle” of the first edition has been corrected
to “little” in the present text.
| 1 |
little
] litle |
| 6 |
graces
] grace's |
| 9 |
sometimes
] somtimes |
| 26 |
shortage
] stortage |
| 28 |
mortgage
] mortaage |
Explanatory
Notes
The
primary purpose of these Explanatory Notes is twofold:
to explain or identify words and phrases that might
be obscure to urban readers of Piggy, and to
call attention to words, phrases, and passages of the
poem that allude to or, as the case may be, derive from
the works of other writers. In this latter category,
the notes are intended to complement the Introduction,
where the emphasis is placed less on local verbal and
phrasal echoes than on the large patterns and assumptions
that link Piggy both with the ideas and assumptions
of Mrs. Buchanan’s own time and with later developments
in the Canadian literary continuity. Quotations from
Hogg and Swineburne—the poets most frequently
echoed in the diction, tone, and poetic texture of Piggy—are
from James Hogg: Selected Poems, edited by
Douglas S. Mack (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1970) and
The Complete Works of Algernon Charles Swineburne,
edited by Edmund Gosse and T.J. Wise (New York: Wells,
1925-1927).
| 1 |
sing
See the Introduction p.7 for a discussion of the
epic tradition invoked by this verb. |
| 1 |
sing
. . . little or big Cf. Virgil, Eclogue IV,
1: “paulo maiora canamus” (‘We
shall sing of something a little bigger’).
As in the refusal of the aggrandizing delay of the
initial verb (“I’ll sing”), Mrs.
Buchanan’s determination to sing of the “little
or big” demonstrates her anti-Virgilian and
very modest ambitions, and her commitment to her
agricultural concerns—further evidence of
her subversion of the traditional hierarchy exemplified
by the classic poet’s abandonment of his bucolic
mode for grander themes. |
| 3 |
Tho’
he cares not a fig to be neat or be trig This
line reveals Mrs. Buchanan’s uncanny insight
into the character and motivations of her subject.
For the fate of a trigger pig compare this stanza
from a traditional Scottish ballad in a volume perhaps
familiar to Mrs. Buchanan, Motherwell’s Minstrelsy
Ancient and Modern:
She laid him on a dressing table,
She dress’d
him like a swine,
Says, “Lie ye there, my bonnie Sir Hugh,
Wi’ ye’re
apples red and green!”
(“Sir Hugh, or the Jew’s Daughter,”
p. 204) |
|
| |
trig
Smart, well-dressed; trim or tight in person, shape,
or appearance; in good physical condition; active,
nimble. |
| 5 |
meat—juicy
meat Cf. Jonson, Bartholomew Fair
I, vi, 46-49: “Now pig, it is meat, and a
meat that is nourishing, and may be longed for,
and so consequently eaten.” |
| 5-7 |
spare
ribs . . . head . . . feet, and the carcase complete
In The Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy
(1796; rpt. 1971), pp. 87-88, Mrs. Glasse describes
“Various Ways of dressing a Pig”:
“First skin your pig up to the ears whole
. . . fill the skin, and sew it up; it will look
like a pig . . . cut the other part of the pig into
four quarter, roast them as you do lamb . . . .
Any one of these quarters will make a pretty side-dish
. . . .” She also provides recipes for “A
Pig in Jelly,” “Collared Pig,”
“[A] Pig the French Way,” “[A]
Pig au Pere Douillet,” “A Pig
Matelote,” “[A] Pig like a
Fat Lamb,” and—nearest to the North-American
style—“Barbecued Pig”
(pp. 88-89). |
| 7 |
carcase
Carcass. |
| 9 |
snowy
lard—sometimes soft, sometimes hard “Outside
fat [of pork] should be firm and white . . .”(Five
Roses Guide to Good Cooking, Montreal and Winnipeg:
Lake of the Woods Milling Co. Ltd., n.d.), p. 69. |
| 11 |
pard
An archaic or poetic usage: a panther or leopard,
by extension, any beast. There may possibly be a
play as well on “pardner”; see line
13: “But the pig is a friend that will last
to the end. . . .” Cf. Swineburne, “Hymn
of Man,” 193: “Shall God then die as
the beasts die?” |
| 12 |
Tho’
sometimes new friends we be making An allusion
to the medical controversy over the proper balance
of polyunsaturated and saturated fats in a healthful
diet. Lard is a highly saturated fat. As early as
1796 evidence can be found that lard consumption
was decreasing in favour of shortening and other
substitutes: “Rub 4 pound of sugar, 3 and
a half pound of shortning, (half butter and half
lard) into 9 pound of flour” (A. Simmons,
American Cookery 34 Loaf Cakes No. 2).
Mrs. Buchanan was thus participating in a trend
that has accelerated to the present day. “The
U.S. per capita consumption of lard in 1950 was
12.6 lb (5.7 kg); in 1982, it was only 2.5 lb (1.1
kg)” (Food for Health—a Nutrition
Encyclopedia, Clovis, Ca.: Pegus Press, 1986),
p. 666. |
| 13 |
the
pig is a friend that will last to the end In
this line Mrs. Buchanan seems to be pointing to
a dual benefit to be derived from the pig. Without
denying the nutritional uses of pork enumerated
in the previous two stanzas, she claims for her
subject a spiritual value as well. In her consciousness
of the simultaneously physically and spiritually
sustaining nature of the pig, Mrs. Buchanan may
be influenced by the following lines from James
Hogg’s “James Rigg”:
And lo! a vision bright and beautiful
Sheds a refulgent glory o’er the sand,
The sand and gravel of my avenue!
For, standing silent by the kitchen-door,
Tinged by the morning sun, and in its own
Brown natural hide most lovely, two long ears
Upstretching perpendicularly, then
With the horizon levell’d—to my
gaze
Superb as horn of fabled Unicorn,
Each in its own proportions grander far
Than the frontal glory of that wandering beast,
Child of the Desart! Lo! a beauteous Ass,
With panniers hanging silent at each side!
Silent as cage of bird whose song is mute,
Though silent yet not empty, fill’d
with bread
The staff of life, the means by which the
soul
By fate obedient to the powers of sense,
Renews its faded vigour, and keeps up
A proud communion with the eternal heavens. |
|
|
| 15 |
recommend
Recommendation. |
| 16 |
he
always keeps doing his duty Cf. Swineburne,
“The Leper,” 93-107: “Six months,
and now my sweet is dead . . . . Six months, and
I sit still and hold / In two cold palms her two
cold feet. / Her hair, half grey, half ruined gold
/ Thrills me and burns me in kissing it . . . .
Her worn-off eyelids madden me . . . .” |
| 17 |
our
gardens oft loot In “What We Have Done
to Beautify our Home Surroundings” Mrs. Buchanan
speaks of the livestock’s destruction of her
fledgling flower garden as a constant trial and
source of disappointment. She speaks particularly
of “the cattle [which] all got in / And trampled
down our flower beds / Till we felt as mad as sin”
and “the pigs [which] considered it to be
/ Their happy hunting ground.” See also, Swineburne,
“The Garden of Proserpine,” 17: “Here
life has death for neighbour . . . .” |
| 18 |
natur’
Nature. Cf. Pope, An Essay on Man, IV,
332-334: “. . . look . . . thro’ Nature,
up to Nature’s God. / Pursue . . . that Chain
which links th’ immense design, / Joins heav’n
and earth, and mortal and divine . . . .” |
| 19 |
scoot
Scotch and American: “to slide suddenly, as
on slippery ground” (OED). Scoot may also
be a variant spelling of the verb “scout,”
to make a search. Stray pigs were not an uncommon
occurrence in turn-of-the-century Canada. Included
in a column of notices of “Estrayed Stock”
in the Wiarton Echo for December 31, 1908 is the
following advertisement: “Stray Pig—Estrayed
from lot 27 con. 13 Albemarle, last week in November,
a large sow, 2 years old, weight nearly 300 lbs,
color white, with two big rings in nose. Information
will be gladly received by Josiah Crawford, Purple
Valley.” Cf. Tennyson, “Walking to the
Mail,” 78-91:
|
He
had a sow, sir. She,
With meditative grunts of much content,
Lay great with pig, wallowing in sun and
mud.
By night we dragged her to the college tower
From her warm bed, and up the corkscrew
stair
With hand and rope we haled the groaning
sow,
And on the leads we kept her till she pigged.
Large range of prospect had the mother sow,
And but for daily loss of one she loved
As one by one we took them—but for
this—
As never sow was higher in this world—
Might have been happy: but what lot is pure?
We took them all, till she was left alone
Upon the tower, the Niobe of swine. . .
.
|
|
| 19 |
“Brute”
The reference is to the dying words of Gaius
Julius Caesar (100- 44 B.C.). Apparently Mrs. Buchanan
feels betrayed after the incident summed up in the
verb “scoot.” |
| 20 |
cess
The phrase bad cess to means ‘bad
luck to’; the word “cess” also
refers to various kinds of taxation. It is also
redolent with associations of the space of ground
between a drain or river and the foot of its bank. |
| 20 |
cratur’
Creature. |
| 21 |
will
Mrs. Buchanan evidently recognized, as did William
Wordsworth (see The Prelude, VII, 708: “the
learned Pig”), the great intelligence of the
pig. She seems, consequently, to have assumed that
the pig’s near-human faculties conferred upon
it the privilege and responsibility of free will,
tempering the behavioural limits set by Nature.
Again, cf. Pope, An Essay on Man, IV, 112:
“There deviates Nature, and here wanders Will.
. . .” |
| 23 |
swill
Liquid, or partly liquid, food, chiefly kitchen
refuse, given to swine (OED). |
| 25 |
money
affairs Hogs were a profitable business in
the early twentieth century in Canada. The Wiarton
Echo of December 31, 1908 quotes hog prices
in the Toronto markets as follows: “$6 for
selects, fed and watered, and $5.75 to drovers f.o.b.
cars at country points.” Dressed hogs were
“steady at $8 to $8.25 for heavy, and at $8.50
for light.” Prices for hogs improved as the
winter progressed; on January 28, 1909 dressed hogs
were “firm at $8.75 to $9 for heavy, and at
$9.15 to $9.30 for light” (The Wiarton
Echo). For the method of dressing see the note
to line 3, above. |
| 27-28 |
Then
the pig nobly shares . . . he’s great at reducing
a mortgage In the nineteenth century, pigs
came to be known as “mortgage lifters”
on account of their reliability as meat producers
(hence, the “piggy bank”). Like Mrs.
Buchanan, Hogg (the “Ettrick Shepherd”)
was well aware of the financial advantages of keeping
a pig and of the potential value of the reversion:
cf. “Thy pen is worth ten thousand . . .”
(“Lines to Sir Walter Scott, Bart.,”
107). Walter and Mary Buchanan appear not to have
been alone in providing luxurious quarters for their
pigs. The Wiarton Echo of January 28, 1909
reports on the “more or less difficult problem”
of winter housing for swine as follows:
The revised edition of Bulletin No. 10 of
the Live Stock Branch, Ottawa, treats this
question in a very practical manner. It
says: “Much of the success of hog-raising
depends upon suitable housing. Suitable
housing does not, however, demand expensively
built houses and pens designed so as to
provide summer temperature during the winter
season. In an ambitious desire to treat
swine with due consideration for their comfort
many progressive hog raisers have, during
the past few years, practically wasted large
sums of money in building elaborate warm
houses for their herds. . . .”
In
apparent anticipation of the current trend
(in education at least) toward portable
accommodation the bulletin goes on to recommend
that “‘[f]or brood sows due
to farrow in the late winter or early spring
months there is no better shelter than the
moveable cabin. A number of these can be
ranged side by side in or near the barn
yard. . . .’” The report concludes
with the advice that “The bulletin
. . . goes on to describe in detail the
plan, construction and management of various
styles of houses that are in successful
operation in different parts of Canada.
Copies of this excellent bulletin which
should be in the hands of every swine raiser
may be secured free. . . .”
|
|
| 27 |
our
burden oft bears Cf. Swineburne, “Ave
Atque Vale,” 58-64: “Hast thou found
place at the great knees and feet / Of some . .
. Titan-woman like a lover . . . Under the shadow
of her fair vast head, / The deep division of prodigious
breasts, / The solemn slope of mighty limbs . .
. / The weight of awful tresses . . .?” |
| 29 |
the
pig is a gent Cf. Swineburne, “The Higher
Pantheism in a Nutshell,” 19-20: “Once
the mastodon was: pterodactyls were common as cocks:
/ Then the mammoth was God: now is He a prize ox.” |
| 30 |
corker
Something very striking or astonishing; something
that puts an end to discussion; notwithstanding
which, Mrs. Buchanan continues for two more lines
below. |
| 31-32 |
But
we will repent and lose many a cent / If we ever
go back on the porker. Mrs. Buchanan was in
the vanguard of the animals’ rights movement
and her resolution expresses the profound change
in attitude in her day from the times of Peter Heylin,
who wrote, “They sacrificed a swine or porker,
with this solemn form” (Ecclesia Vindicata,
or the Church of England Justified [1657],
181), and Pope, who described the sufferings of
“nobl[e]” “cratur’[s]”
offered as innocent sacrifices in these words: “Then
sheep and goats and bristly porkers bled”
(Homer’s Odyssey, XVII, 201). porker:
A young pig fattened for pork. |
Appendix
Duckies
Duckies,
duckies, duckies
All in a row,
Waddle, waddle, waddle
To the creek they go
Looking for the slimy bugs, |
5 |
Snails,
and minnows small,
And of fowls that gobble stuff
Ducks can beat them
all.
Paddle,
paddle, paddle,
Out they go and in, |
10 |
Gabble,
gabble, gabble,
Don’t they make a din?
Don’t they have a jolly time?
Don’t they make a row?
Holding business meeting |
15 |
Or
a sociable pow-wow.
Clatter,
clatter, clatter,
See them beck and bow.
Patter, patter, patter,
What are they doing now? |
20 |
See them preen their feathers,
See their wings
they flap,
And for all outsiders
They do not care
a rap.
But
soon, alas, comes “Thanksgiving,” |
25 |
Off
goes duckies heads,
And their downy feathers
Make our feather beds;
And we lie so comfy
When the nights are cold, |
30 |
But
the duckie doodles
Are eaten up, or
sold.
Duckies,
duckies, duckies,
Succulent and sweet;
Duck is to me the very best |
35 |
Of fowl
there is to eat.
Long, too long, the turkey
Has held the place of state,
But get a piece of juicy duck
And “oh,” but it is “great.” |
40 |
|
