Water for Elephants

Author Sara Gruen lends part of her story to 93-year-old Jacob Jankowski, giving a voice to a forgotten sector of the human population. In the past narrative, Gruen offers the character of Camel as another person of advanced age cast aside by society and left to fend for himself in his later years. By elevating the voices of these elderly characters, Gruen emphasizes the need for society to care for, listen to, and respect the older population by spending time with them and hearing their stories.

The hardscrabble world of 1930 has no use for a man like Camel. Stiff joints and gnarled hands prevent him from working the manual jobs readily available in Depression-era America: “‘I’m gettin’ too old for this, Jacob. I ache all over at the end of every day. Hell, I ache all over now, and we ain't even at the end of the day yet’” (11). Compounding his advanced age, Camel has developed a dangerous addiction to “jake,” a poisonous Jamaica ginger extract, another symptom of a hard life lived in service to the country during World War I and in poverty. Cast aside by his family and the circus bosses, Camel is left paralyzed, lacking the capacity for basic personal care. Al’s solution is to throw the helpless man off the train, but Jacob and Walter show compassion to Camel and house him in their car at great risk to their safety. Jacob tends to Camel’s needs, including the humbling task of cleaning him after he defecates. Through Jacob and Walter’s example, the author shows the importance of caring for the aged population by helping them maintain their dignity and showing them love despite their physical limitations.

The framing device of the elderly Jacob casts a sadness over the narrative. In the absence of stimulation from the outside world, Jacob’s vision turns inward. He looks back on his life and the choices he made, evaluating the costs. Jacob’s memories are tinged with measures of nostalgia and trepidation for what comes next: “My brain is like a universe whose gases get thinner and thinner at the edges. But it doesn’t dissolve into nothingness. I can sense something out there, just beyond my grasp, hovering, waiting” (218). However, the juxtaposition of the two phases of Jacob’s life and their conflicting realities sometimes brings levity to the darkness. In one scene, young Jacob is filing an elephant’s toenails or hopping from one train car to another with a knife in his mouth, and in the next scene, he’s throwing his plate of geriatric mush on the floor in protest. Although his memories of circus adventures comfort him, the dull routine of nursing home life depresses him, and he feels as if he no longer has anything to fight for. His frustration presents as anger, and he lashes out at the staff and other residents. Through the character of elderly Jacob, the author presents the experience of many aging adults. Misunderstood and marooned in assisted living facilities, separated from familiar faces and environments, the elderly population is left to drift into death. Rosemary and Charlie treat Jacob with dignity and come to know him as a person with a wonderful story to tell: “‘You’re a living piece of history, and I’d surely love to hear about that [tent] collapse first-hand.’” (325). By giving Jacob back his humanity, Rosemary and O’Brien give him hope, and the author paints a beautiful picture of how society should honor its elders.