During
the last two years, Piggy has been recognized, and is
now widely studied along side the Odyssey,
Paradise Lost, The Prelude, and Allophanes,
as one of the world’s great literary works. This
Snorton Critical Edition of the poem is designed for
use in university literature courses throughout Canada
and Quebec, as well as in the United States, British
Columbia, Finland, and elsewhere.
According
to the letters to Charles G.D. Roberts that are printed
for the first time here, Buchanan wrote Piggy in 1907-08
at a time of great emotional turmoil and ideological
transition. In the course of her harrowing relationship
with Roberts, she forged a new identity for herself
as both a woman and a poet, revealing in her letters
a shrewd understanding, not only of her own poetic means
and purposes, but also of Roberts’s poetry and
Canada’s emerging literary tradition. As the revelation
of a creative mind in action, Buchanan’s correspondence
with Roberts is unsurpassed in the annals of Canadian
literature and, if at all, only marginally less incandescent
and illuminating than Melville’s correspondence
with Hawthorne during the writing of Moby-Dick.
“Oh to do for the pig what [James McIntyre] has
done for the cheese!” exclaims Buchanan in her
letter of January 12, 1908, but she could just as well—and
with equal certainty of success—have said “what
Herman Melville has done for the whale!”
Although
Piggy shares with Canadian poetry from Thomas
Cary to Steve McCaffery a reliance on cliché
and pastiche that characterizes the culture as a whole,
its most typically Canadian feature is its depiction
of an external reality that is by turns comfortably
ordered and disturbingly chaotic. By making the focus
of her poem the pig (and, in “Duckies,”
the duck), Buchanan pays homage to those domesticated
yet unruly forces of nature which threaten to overwhelm
both self and society throughout Canadian literature.
“[A] friend” and “a gent” though
he may seem, Buchanan’s pig is nevertheless the
manifestation of a mischievous and even anarchic force
that “may dig, ... may root, and our gardens ...
loot.” When ranged “in a row” or surrounded
by roast potatoes, Canadian “duckies” appear
harmless enough, but beneath this benign surface—under
the “feather beds” of domesticity to which
they are partly assimilated by Buchanan—lies a
predatory and Wacoustan reality: “of fowls that
gobble stuff / Ducks can beat them all”:
See
them preen their feathers
See their wings they
flap,
And for all outsiders
They do not care a
rap. |
There can
be little doubt that Northrop Frye had Piggy and “Duckies”
in mind when he wrote of a pervasive “tone of
deep terror in regard to nature” in Canadian poetry
(“Conclusion,” Literary History of Canada,
ed. Carl F. Klinck [1965; Toronto: University of Toronto
Press, 1973], 830).
The text
of Piggy in the present edition is surrounded by the
editorial paraphernalia prepared by Susan Bailey and
D.M.R. Bentley for the Canardian Poetry Press edition
of the poem. As well as containing utterly invaluable
critical and scholarly material, the Bailey and Bentley
edition played a crucial role in shaping modern responses
to Piggy and, indeed, in elevating the poem to canonical
and classical status. What T.S. Eliot did for John Donne,
what William Arthur Deacon did for The Four Jameses,
and what Carole Gerson has recently done for Edna Jaques
(“Sarah Binks and Edna Jaques: Parody, Gender,
and the Construction of Literary Value,” Canadian
Literature 134 [Autumn 1992]: 62-73), Bailey and
Bentley have done for Mary Buchanan. For this reason,
and because it contains an authoritative text of Piggy
itself, the Canardian Poetry Press edition is reprinted
in its entirety here. To facilitate use of the present
critical compilation, page references to Bailey and
Bentley’s excellent “Introduction”
and “Explanatory Notes” in the ensuing critical
materials have been keyed to the Snorton Critical Edition.
The critical
materials reprinted here reflect the wealth of Mary
Buchanan research, scholarship, and theorization during
the two years since the publication of the superb Bailey
and Bentley edition of Piggy. Perhaps as many
as twelve articles—eleven of which have been selected
for reprinting—have focused almost exclusively
on Piggy and “Duckies,” and there
have been more-or-less detailed and lengthy discussions
of both poems in such journals as Canardian Litterature,
Canadian Poultry, Assays on Canadian Writhing,
The Grand River Sachem Review of Books and Animal
Husbandry, and Open Litter, as well as
in several aspirational magazines like Vancouver
Life and City and Country Home and, of
course, numerous monographs in the Theory/Culture Series
from the University of Toronto Press. In its sheer bulk,
Piggy criticism confirms the observation of
Peter Stallybrass and Allon White in The Politics
and Poetics of Transgression (Ithaca: Cornell University
Press, 1986) that “academics, apparently the very
bearers of the rule of discursive purity and order,
are an infinite resource of information about pigs...of
recondite information, clearly of deep significance,
about the porcine breed” (x-xi). As Oscar Wilde
has Lord Henry Wotton observe in The Picture of
Dorian Gray (Toronto: Penguin, 1985), “pork-packing
is the most lucrative profession in [North] America,
after politics” (44).
The perspectives
on Piggy in the “Criticism” section are
not intended to provide an historical overview of informed
opinion or a conspectus of conflicting interpretations.
Nevertheless the major critical, scholarly, theoretical,
and professional issues surrounding Piggy are
canvassed: its genesis in the context of Buchanan’s
life; its relation to previous Canadian literature;
its impact on later Canadian writers, its mimetic form;
its canonical aspects and its professional value as
a pretext for SSHRCC-funded conferences.
For their
generous help, advice, and forbearance in preparing
the Snorton Critical Edition of Piggy, I wish
to thank all the graduate students, editorial assistants,
and other little piggies that have worked on my research
projects over the decades, all of whom (with the exception
of the loveable but dense J.M. Stover) declined to have
their names mentioned in this volume, and the majority
of whom have sadly since wee-wee-weed right out of academia. |