I stopped a good while to look at the pigs | Nathaniel Hawthorne’s journal entry for June 15, 1835

SALEM, June 15, 1835.–A walk down to the Juniper. The shore of the coves strewn with bunches of sea-weed, driven in by recent winds. Eel-grass, rolled and bundled up, and entangled with it,–large marine vegetables, of an olive-color, with round, slender, snake-like stalks, four or five feet long, and nearly two feet broad: these are the herbage of the deep sea. Shoals of fishes, at a little distance from the shore, discernible by their fins out of water. Among the heaps of sea-weed there were sometimes small pieces of painted wood, bark, and other driftage. On the shore, with pebbles of granite, there were round or oval pieces of brick, which the waves had rolled about till they resembled a natural mineral. Huge stones tossed about, in every variety of confusion, some shagged all over with sea-weed, others only partly covered, others bare. The old ten-gun battery, at the outer angle of the Juniper, very verdant, and besprinkled with white-weed, clover, and buttercups. The juniper-trees are very aged and decayed and moss-grown. The grass about the hospital is rank, being trodden, probably, by nobody but myself. There is a representation of a vessel under sail, cut with a penknife, on the corner of the house.

Returning by the almshouse, I stopped a good while to look at the pigs,–a great herd,–who seemed to be just finishing their suppers. They certainly are types of unmitigated sensuality,–some standing in the trough, in the midst of their own and others’ victuals,–some thrusting their noses deep into the food,–some rubbing their backs against a post,–some huddled together between sleeping and waking, breathing hard,–all wallowing about; a great boar swaggering round, and a big sow waddling along with her huge paunch. Notwithstanding the unspeakable defilement with which these strange sensualists spice all their food, they seem to have a quick and delicate sense of smell. What ridiculous-looking animals! Swift himself could not have imagined anything nastier than what they practise by the mere impulse of natural genius. Yet the Shakers keep their pigs very clean, and with great advantage. The legion of devils in the herd of swine,–what a scene it must have been!

Sunday evening, going by the jail, the setting sun kindled up the windows most cheerfully; as if there were a bright, comfortable light within its darksome stone wall.

Nathaniel Hawthorne’s journal entry for June 15, 1835. From Passages from the American Note-Books.

7 thoughts on “I stopped a good while to look at the pigs | Nathaniel Hawthorne’s journal entry for June 15, 1835”

  1. Touching to find his description of what it was like to walk along the shore in 1835. I can say from my own experience that before about 1970 this still held true. Since then it has changed beyond recognition. Eel grass replaced by filaments of frayed nylon line and everything tied up with plastic ribbons tethered to deflated Mylar balloons. Even the schools of small fish have disappeared.

    As to any comparison to the present lives of pigs…, well….

    Like

    1. So much of the good earth that Hawthorne celebrated has disappeared from in front of our eyes. Sometimes I feel like crying. Who will answer when the Creator asks what have we done with the Garden.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Is there a good book about Hawthorne, and the group he hung with? From what I gather from reading about them, they were kind of wild and crazy.

    Like

Leave a Reply to seymourblogger Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.