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Fresh Eggs
Fresh off the success of his hilarious small-town lampoon, Serendipity Green, Rob Levandoski is back with a provocative father/daughter tale guaranteed to deliver as many tears as chuckles. It will also make you think long and hard about modern man's shaky relationship with the animal world. The setting for Fresh Eggs is Levandoski's fictional Tuttwyler, Ohio. The family is the Cassowarys, a clan of hard-working, guilt-ridden Protestants ready to do whatever it takes to keep their farm in the family for one more generation. And now it's young Calvin Cassowary's turn. Calvin decides to specialize in chickens. Soon he's got a million hens laying eggs for Gallinipper Foods. But no matter how many new hen houses he adds, his financial troubles only worsen. If things aren't tough enough, Calvin's little daughter, Rhea, starts growing feathers. He takes her to one specialist after another. No one has a clue. Only Dr. Pirooz Aram, the pesky Persian-American psychiatrist first introduced in Serendipity Green, has an Rhea's feathers are a "stigmatic response" to the horrible way her father's "egg machines" are treated. Levandoski's exposé of modern factory farming is chilling, and his exploration of the uneasy relationship between fathers and daughters is right from the heart. Fresh Eggs challenges us to rethink our treatment of creatures more vulnerable than ourselves, including those most precious of creatures, our children.
Hardcover
First published July 29, 2003
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Displaying 1 - 13 of 13 reviews
December 16, 2013
There are enough hens in America for everyone to have one. And each year, they produce more than 6 billion eggs, so get cracking. In the mid 1970s, medical concerns about cholesterol just about broke the industry, but recently, all the king's horses and all the king's men have been refining those studies, and eggs have been rolling back into dieticians' recommendations.
If you've still got an appetite after Eric Schlosser's "FastFoodNation," break open "Fresh Eggs," a plucky satire by Rob Levandoski. With this fowl story, the industry dies the death of a thousand pecks.
Calvin Cassowary is just trying to do what's right when he takes over the family farm. He'd rather teach art at the local high school, but when his father dies, the homestead falls to him, and he's not about to let down four generations of Cassowarys.
He comes from a line of farmers who lived in perfect harmony with their crops and animals, but today that pastoral ideal is for the birds. To survive in this business, you've got to be big. And so Calvin plows down a path of expansion that eventually buries him under a million chickens, $1 million debt, and 100 tons of manure a day.
At every step, he's reassured by a chummy representative from Gallinipper Foods, a giant cartel that controls its members as effectively as its members control their hens. Levandoski has a well-tuned ear for the forced enthusiasm of industry spokesmen, and he fries their carefully designed euphemisms sunnyside down. The annual meeting of egg producers, led by Bob Gallinipper himself � "with a smile as wide as a slice of cantaloupe" � is a masterly bit of parody.
The scientists at corporate headquarters introduce marvelous improvements every year, tweaking every aspect of egg production from the chickens' feed to their genes, rushing inexorably toward the holy grail: a hen that lays one egg a day and eats its own waste.
If you thought eggs came from cartons, this tour of the industry is a rude awakening. These are not animals, they're "egg-laying machines." Levandoski takes us into the sexing room, where female chicks are sped on their hormone-induced way while male chicks are thrown in metal drums to be "recycled along with other hatchery by-products." He shows us the women who cut off 20 chicken beaks per minute. We watch and listen as "spent" chickens are grabbed in groups of three and stuffed into trash boxes to make room for fresh hens. The mechanics of modern farming are enough to upset anyone's stomach.
It's particularly upsetting to Calvin's daughter, Rhea. When her father goes corporate, she keeps a few of their old birds in the yard. She even names them, and sells their brown eggs to neighbors. Calvin warns her against all these unprofitable entanglements, but at 6, she doesn't understand interest rates or property taxes. She can't follow the logic that requires more borrowing, more animals, and more cruelty. "We run a chicken jail," she announces one day.
And then feathers start to grow on her chest. By the time she's 12, they cover her entire body. Home schooling seems best. Her hyperallergic stepmother buys her some turtlenecks and then takes her to a specialist. "As far I can tell," the doctor notes, "feathers are symptomatic of only two conditions � either you're a bird or an Indian chief."
A quirky psychiatrist � one of a dozen wonderfully witty cameos in this novel � tells Rhea she's a swan, but he suggests to Calvin that she's experiencing a sympathetic reaction, a feathery version of stigmata: "We know that the thoughts and images our minds create can have physical effects. Rhea's feathers may be a physical manifestation of her sorrow for the way your chickens are treated." Her father fires him immediately.
(Because of some ribald sexual content, you might want to pluck this book from the hands of middle-school readers. Not that they're likely to see it. Agriculture lobbyists would run around like chickens with their heads cut off if any school tried to use this novel to study satire or contemporary ethics.)
Eventually, all Calvin's problems come home to roost: interest rates rise, egg prices drop, new suburban neighbors sue over the smell, and protesters for and against the consumption of eggs scramble into action.
But Levandoski never loses his humanity in this light novel, even if Calvin sometimes does. His witty exposé of the egg business is always yoked to a sensitive consideration of this strange, kind girl and her baffled dad. By the end, it's impossible to know which came first: his satire of the industry or his compassion for these characters. The conscience is a fragile thing, and "Fresh Eggs" handles it with care.
http://www.csmonitor.com/2002/0801/p1...
If you've still got an appetite after Eric Schlosser's "FastFoodNation," break open "Fresh Eggs," a plucky satire by Rob Levandoski. With this fowl story, the industry dies the death of a thousand pecks.
Calvin Cassowary is just trying to do what's right when he takes over the family farm. He'd rather teach art at the local high school, but when his father dies, the homestead falls to him, and he's not about to let down four generations of Cassowarys.
He comes from a line of farmers who lived in perfect harmony with their crops and animals, but today that pastoral ideal is for the birds. To survive in this business, you've got to be big. And so Calvin plows down a path of expansion that eventually buries him under a million chickens, $1 million debt, and 100 tons of manure a day.
At every step, he's reassured by a chummy representative from Gallinipper Foods, a giant cartel that controls its members as effectively as its members control their hens. Levandoski has a well-tuned ear for the forced enthusiasm of industry spokesmen, and he fries their carefully designed euphemisms sunnyside down. The annual meeting of egg producers, led by Bob Gallinipper himself � "with a smile as wide as a slice of cantaloupe" � is a masterly bit of parody.
The scientists at corporate headquarters introduce marvelous improvements every year, tweaking every aspect of egg production from the chickens' feed to their genes, rushing inexorably toward the holy grail: a hen that lays one egg a day and eats its own waste.
If you thought eggs came from cartons, this tour of the industry is a rude awakening. These are not animals, they're "egg-laying machines." Levandoski takes us into the sexing room, where female chicks are sped on their hormone-induced way while male chicks are thrown in metal drums to be "recycled along with other hatchery by-products." He shows us the women who cut off 20 chicken beaks per minute. We watch and listen as "spent" chickens are grabbed in groups of three and stuffed into trash boxes to make room for fresh hens. The mechanics of modern farming are enough to upset anyone's stomach.
It's particularly upsetting to Calvin's daughter, Rhea. When her father goes corporate, she keeps a few of their old birds in the yard. She even names them, and sells their brown eggs to neighbors. Calvin warns her against all these unprofitable entanglements, but at 6, she doesn't understand interest rates or property taxes. She can't follow the logic that requires more borrowing, more animals, and more cruelty. "We run a chicken jail," she announces one day.
And then feathers start to grow on her chest. By the time she's 12, they cover her entire body. Home schooling seems best. Her hyperallergic stepmother buys her some turtlenecks and then takes her to a specialist. "As far I can tell," the doctor notes, "feathers are symptomatic of only two conditions � either you're a bird or an Indian chief."
A quirky psychiatrist � one of a dozen wonderfully witty cameos in this novel � tells Rhea she's a swan, but he suggests to Calvin that she's experiencing a sympathetic reaction, a feathery version of stigmata: "We know that the thoughts and images our minds create can have physical effects. Rhea's feathers may be a physical manifestation of her sorrow for the way your chickens are treated." Her father fires him immediately.
(Because of some ribald sexual content, you might want to pluck this book from the hands of middle-school readers. Not that they're likely to see it. Agriculture lobbyists would run around like chickens with their heads cut off if any school tried to use this novel to study satire or contemporary ethics.)
Eventually, all Calvin's problems come home to roost: interest rates rise, egg prices drop, new suburban neighbors sue over the smell, and protesters for and against the consumption of eggs scramble into action.
But Levandoski never loses his humanity in this light novel, even if Calvin sometimes does. His witty exposé of the egg business is always yoked to a sensitive consideration of this strange, kind girl and her baffled dad. By the end, it's impossible to know which came first: his satire of the industry or his compassion for these characters. The conscience is a fragile thing, and "Fresh Eggs" handles it with care.
http://www.csmonitor.com/2002/0801/p1...
May 6, 2015
I picked this up because the title appealed to me and I was a little fed up with reading about war, genocide and the perpetrators and victims thereof and thought ha,light reading.
So ok, now we are onto factory-farming, the ppressors of chickens and the poor imprisoned, debeaked little egg machines themselves and a girl who becomes their de facto patron saint, sort of.
It all romps along in a jolly sort of way, quite well-written and quite badly edited. Not copy-edited, but a proper editor sitting there sternly saying, "Now Rob, you really can't have a whole chapter on genetics from a very minor character. Its all common knowledge now".
The twists and turns of the plot become more and more unlikely as do the characters, until one wonders if the author himself knew if he was attempting satire, a jovial piece of fiction, or had an idea for a film - strictly made-for-tv market and wanted to give the scriptwriter all the right clues.
I would have given it three or four stars because it was entertaining, but then the author threw a Jodi Picoult. Bad ending. I didn't understand it (perhaps I should read that chapter on genetics again, and concentrate this time) and I didn't like it and it made sense only in the weakest way possible. As I said, bad editing and it spoiled the book for me.
*Blows raspberry*. 2 star.
So ok, now we are onto factory-farming, the ppressors of chickens and the poor imprisoned, debeaked little egg machines themselves and a girl who becomes their de facto patron saint, sort of.
It all romps along in a jolly sort of way, quite well-written and quite badly edited. Not copy-edited, but a proper editor sitting there sternly saying, "Now Rob, you really can't have a whole chapter on genetics from a very minor character. Its all common knowledge now".
The twists and turns of the plot become more and more unlikely as do the characters, until one wonders if the author himself knew if he was attempting satire, a jovial piece of fiction, or had an idea for a film - strictly made-for-tv market and wanted to give the scriptwriter all the right clues.
I would have given it three or four stars because it was entertaining, but then the author threw a Jodi Picoult. Bad ending. I didn't understand it (perhaps I should read that chapter on genetics again, and concentrate this time) and I didn't like it and it made sense only in the weakest way possible. As I said, bad editing and it spoiled the book for me.
*Blows raspberry*. 2 star.
November 7, 2008
Thanks Sarah! I love that you sent this to me!
This was a quick, light read. I think I only recommend it for people who like quick, light reads, and maybe even only for people who are obsessed with chickens, like myself. I don't think it was the most well written book, but it was engaging.
Since I am obsessed with chickens and with food issues, this book was really relevant.
This was a quick, light read. I think I only recommend it for people who like quick, light reads, and maybe even only for people who are obsessed with chickens, like myself. I don't think it was the most well written book, but it was engaging.
Since I am obsessed with chickens and with food issues, this book was really relevant.
November 17, 2010
I thought this book was charming! I've not eaten anything but eggs from free-range hens since!
August 22, 2025
Cal inherits the family farm despite his wishes and training to be a teacher. As an independent farmer, he is barely able to make ends meet so he becomes a farmer for a huge industrialized egg corporation. He builds monstrous sheds which each house 100 000 hens and each cost him about $250 000. He takes out loans against his home to expand his egg production, and has 1 million caged chickens, all for the profit of 3¢ per dozen. He is supplied new pullets every 18 months at which time the 'spent' hens are removed to be turned into pet food.
Cal is fine with this endless torture, manure and death of chickens but his young daughter can't stand any of it. As she ages, she equates it to owning a concentration camp. When she reaches puberty, she begins to grow feathers all over her body. And so on.
This quirky little book started out as a fun tale created to convince readers to not support industrial farming, eggs specifically. Once Rhea grew feathers, I rolled with the idea and let it pan out. But the final 50 pages were stranger still, becoming nonsensical at the end. It felt like Levandoski lost the thread and his marbles as he rambled on.
In the end, egg industrialization wasn't the focus. Instead I think IVF and cloning humans took center stage - but by then I was just skimming, wanting this train wreck to be over. And I think that Levandoski truly believes that sex cures women of all that ails them. Bizarre.
As a chicken keeper myself, with 14 free-roaming hens and roos (all with unique names and chicken-alities), I really wish this book could have been something.
Cal is fine with this endless torture, manure and death of chickens but his young daughter can't stand any of it. As she ages, she equates it to owning a concentration camp. When she reaches puberty, she begins to grow feathers all over her body. And so on.
This quirky little book started out as a fun tale created to convince readers to not support industrial farming, eggs specifically. Once Rhea grew feathers, I rolled with the idea and let it pan out. But the final 50 pages were stranger still, becoming nonsensical at the end. It felt like Levandoski lost the thread and his marbles as he rambled on.
In the end, egg industrialization wasn't the focus. Instead I think IVF and cloning humans took center stage - but by then I was just skimming, wanting this train wreck to be over. And I think that Levandoski truly believes that sex cures women of all that ails them. Bizarre.
As a chicken keeper myself, with 14 free-roaming hens and roos (all with unique names and chicken-alities), I really wish this book could have been something.
August 27, 2011
FRESH EGGS made me THINK about the plight of chickens raised only to lay eggs for us, and the larger question of whether man should have "dominion over the animals" to the point of not being very pleasant for the animals--or in this case the lowly chicken...In itself this subject would be too painful to investigate, but Rob Levandoski is such a clever writer, and weaves such an interesting story that I really couldn't put the book down until the story ended. The humor was delightful, but the underlying premise will stay with me whenever I go to the grocery store to buy eggs.
January 17, 2013
This book was a pleasant surprise. I just happened to find it in the stacks and gave it a whirl. I liked the fact that it was set in Ohio. Although many locations were fiction, the occasional Akron and Kent State appeared throughout. I didn't realize that Rhea's "unusual problem" would turn out to be something as unique as what it was. The family history and little stories in between made me feel as if I knew this family. I'm so glad I found this.
June 2, 2015
Beautiful. I expected a story about a man trying to save the family farm. I expected a story about the hijinks he got into. I did not expect a story about a young girl losing her mother and gaining chickens. A story about a girl whose heart aches for the layer chickens and cries over what happens to them when they're "spent." I couldn't put the book down, and I loved every minute of reading it.
March 14, 2011
By far the strangest book I hae ever read. I chose this book because I wanted to step out of the box and read something different. I definately did that. Even though, it was strange it sucked me in and I read it in less than 24 hours.
June 7, 2007
Compulsively quirky.
March 19, 2011
Odd. Fantastic. Quirky. Well-written. Occasionally disturbing. I eat lots of eggs, but they come from free-range chickens that I know well.
May 24, 2010
This is the book that inspired me NEVER to eat supermarket eggs ever again!
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April 15, 2018Long ago. Comment is "good"
He was a Thurber House guest author
He was a Thurber House guest author
Displaying 1 - 13 of 13 reviews