Animal Festivals: An Exposé From the Animals' Point of View

Elizabeth MeLampy’s new book titled Forget the Camel: The Madcap World of Animal Festivals and What They Say About Being Human is a riveting, much-needed account of animal festivals from the animals’ point of view and what such festivals say about us and our relationships with nonhuman beings. Using the latest science, a host of stories, and some down-home common sense, she makes it amply clear that what unites communities, lifts spirits, and offers food, drink, and entertainment is anything but festive for the animals themselves.

I can only hope that Elizabeth's detailed and compelling exposé of what goes on at these human-centered events will force people to reassess what the animals feel and put an end to these events them once and for all. I learned a lot from reading this eye-opening book, and I'm sure others also will. Here's what she had to say about her novel and thought-provoking book.

Marc Bekoff: Why did you write Forget the Camel?

Elizabeth MeLampy: I had two reasons to write this book: one personal and one academic. The personal reason involves my family. My grandmother, Elizabeth Atwood Lawrence, was an anthropologist who helped pioneer the field of human-animal relations. Before she died, she started work on what would have been an academic anthology of animal festivals around the world. When I opened the boxes of her old notes and files, I was overwhelmed with the desire to finish what she started.

The academic reason for writing Forget the Camel is that these festivals reflect broad truths about how we interact with animals. What these festivals normalize is what makes them worth thinking about. Animal festivals both reflect the current reality of our human-animal relationships and risk reinforcing our past mistakes.

MB: How does your book relate to your background and general areas of interest?

EM: While I was in law school, I took a class on animal law, where I learned about the horrors that befall animals every day. I wanted desperately to do something about it. But as I continued to think about how the law oppresses animals and facilitates their exploitation, I began to wonder what it would take to change how people think about animals. Making the world a better place for animals will require a complete shift in how we view them. Festivals offer concrete, accessible opportunities to investigate our assumptions about animals. As I watched people kill, harass, terrify, and parade animals for entertainment, I realized that the stories we tell about animals are made literal at these events: Some animals are meant for food, some are harmless, some are dangerous, some are good in some contexts but not others. These stories define animals’ treatment in our society and in the law, and questioning those foundational stories is part of the project of this book.

MB: What are some of the major topics you consider?

EM: My book covers well-known animal festivals like the Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race in Alaska and Groundhog Day in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. But it also covers less famous events like the Jumping Frog Jubilee in Angels Camp, California; the world’s largest Rattlesnake Roundup in Sweetwater, Texas; and the Maine Lobster Festival. I use these in the book as paradigmatic examples full of good stories and long histories. However, the handful of festivals I focused on in the book are not necessarily unusual or unique; dozens of animal festivals happen all across the country in every month of the year.

I take the reader on a journey through three typical aspects of human-animal relationships: dominance, humor, and reverence. I structure the book in these three parts, progressing from the most obvious examples of animal exploitation to a possible model for future festivals based in respect and consideration for animals. Each chapter builds on the last, and I hope the book as a whole leaves readers with the conviction that a better future for animals is possible.

MB: How does your book differ from others that are concerned with some of the same general topics?

EM: Forget the Camel is an interdisciplinary look at animal festivals across the country, using aspects of travel writing, historical analysis, journalism, and narrative to explore the full breadth of these events and their cultural significance. And, perhaps most importantly, this book is not a static glimpse of a single moment in time. To the contrary, by reviewing and using my grandmother’s notes from over 30 years ago, I was able to use a unique source material that expanded the scope of the book. Over the last 30 years, not much has changed at most of these events, which in and of itself tells us something about the lasting power of animal festivals and the stories—both about animals and about ourselves—that we peddle at them.

MB: Are you hopeful that as people learn more about the hidden realities of animal festivals they will pay more attention to what the animals are feeling?

EM: Absolutely. When talking about animals, we often default into abstractions and preconceptions because it’s how our brain categorizes the world around us. When we think about racing dogs or jumping frogs, for example, we may only pull up a quick mental snapshot of a cartoonish version of the animal. We don’t often actually center the experience of the animal who is being forced to do these things. But in the book, I bring the reader with me as I look many of these animals in the eye and try to understand the complexity of their world. Ultimately, the reality of the animals—their feelings, their fears, their reactions—is what makes these events so compelling because they are unpredictable. But their reality is also what we need to reckon with because it creates a moral conundrum: Is it right, or even ethically permissible, to terrify, kill, or capture animals for the sake of tradition and fun?