Poor Cows

In one episode of South Park, Cartman and his friends are deeply disappointed by the supposedly “controversial” content in ‘The Catcher in the Rye,’ which their teacher had assigned, proclaiming it to be provocative. Determined to show the world the true meaning of controversy, they sit down, laughing, and begin writing the most gruesome material their fourth-grade minds can conjure.

Their goal isn’t to promote any credo, craft a meaningful or original story, or even present a subversive idea. Instead, they use plot merely as scaffolding to support the sickest sentences they can devise. Their sole objective is to create content that will shock or offend the reader—nothing more, nothing less. They never view their book as anything beyond this crude attempt at provocation. Beyond their own laughter and amusement, the book had no other value at all. So they finished it and hid it so their parents could never set eyes on it.

As often happens in real life, their parents eventually stumbled upon the book and were expectedly disgusted by its content (to the degree that they couldn’t read it without vomiting profusely). However, they also found what they believed to be hidden metaphors and allegories for contentious political issues, which were never the authors’ intent. Through word of mouth, an extremely positive opinion of the book went viral, and soon enough, everybody started praising the book’s “ideas.” Some did so because they simply clung to the majority opinion and didn’t want to “look stupid,” others because they were prone to overintellectualizing, and some were just plain gullible. Before long, Penguin Books was ready to sign an exclusive book deal.

But this article isn’t about a South Park episode. I was supposed to write a review of “Cows” by Matthew Stokoe.

And I just did.