Green Eggs and Ham in Just Stuff

A Fresh Perspective on Dr. Seuss’ “Green Eggs ‘n’ Ham”

This is in response to the renewed call for the banning of certain books. Lot’s of crazy people in this World.

When the book Green Eggs And Ham recrossed my path, I had to smile, recalling its childish story that once made me smile. Yet this time as I went through it, I saw, almost, a completely different book. In fact, it’s an incredibly enlightening book, a fact belied by its bright orange cover and the goofy feline in the upper-right corner who says, “I can read it all by myself: Beginner Books.” What I, in fact, got from this book was a stirring analysis of human sexual maturation.

We start with one character riding across the pages with a sign reading “I am Sam” (pg. 3) and then “Sam I am” (pg. 7). Here, Dr. Seuss is blatant in his Christian Yahweh imagery, recalling Moses asking God who God was and receiving a resounding “I AM” as a response. Here, we have a softer “I am” as Seuss cleverly mixes the Christian with the pagan in the form of Sam, a character who begins with the awesome omnipotent cry of the Christian God but shows himself tempered by the more playful, sexual characteristics of a Pan.

We then see Sam approach the book’s other character, an unnamed Everyman, and offer symbols of sexuality in the green eggs and ham. The eggs obviously represent the female ovum, the ham (the meat) being the male penis, and the green coloring is symbolic of Springtime, new life, the awakening of sexual urges. And so Sam questions our young Everyman about sexual desires.

At first, Everyman only sees these urges as an unwelcome distraction, proclaiming, “…That Sam-I-am!/ I do not like/ that Sam-I-am!” and then denouncing the green eggs and ham, trying to ignore the biological stirring awakening within himself.

And then Sam begins to test Everyman. He begins in a simple yet existential way, asking, “Would you like them/here or there?” (pg. 14) Effectively asking if Everyman would prefer that sex be in a conservative, imaginable fashion in the “here” or in the unexpected, the different, “there.”

But Everyman refuses to even consider it, repressing the feelings and attempting to turn away from Sam.

No sooner has Everyman’s back turned, though, Sam appears again, this time asking, “Would you like them/in a house?” (pg. 19) Sam believes that, perhaps, Everyman has doubts about sex for fear of reproducing and being unable to financially care for his offspring, so Sam wants to know if Everyman was prosperous, owned a house, would that eliminate Everyman’s negativity towards sex.

Sam also asks “Would you like them/with a mouse?” (pg. 19) indicating a timid partner for Everyman, as Sam wonders if the sexual experience scares Everyman, perhaps a submissive, non-threatening partner, symbolized by the mouse, would be what Everyman needs to be comfortable with Everyman’s own sexuality.

But again the answer is a resounding negative, a denouncement of the natural gifts represented by green eggs and ham.

Our plucky little Pan returns in Everyman’s path, asking, RWould you eat them in a box?” (pg. 22) His earlier question about the box was, perhaps, wrong; so Sam wonders if Everyman would prefer more simple, tougher circumstances. Nothing fancy, nothing expensive, just the spare setting of a box.

He also asks, “Would you eat them with a fox,” (pg. 22) an obvious counter to the timid mouse-partner earlier; now Sam asks now Sam asks if Everyman would prefer a wilder partner, someone beautiful and inventive: the fox not only representing beauty in the American fashion, but wisdom and cunning of older Western-European folklore.

But Everyman simply repudiates all Sam’s offers:

Not in a box.
Not with a fox.
Not in a house.
Not with a mouse.
I would not eat them here or there.
I would not eat them anywhere.
I would not eat green eggs and ham.
I do not like them, Sam-I-am.
(pg. 24)

Everyman empirically claims control over these new urges boiling within. “I would not eat them anywhere;” Everyman steadfastly refuses to give into sexual curiosity, perhaps seeing it as base or uncouth, but definitely unsettling as the frantic, lengthy reply to Sam shows.

And then Sam brings in technology, wondering if what Everyman needs to “turn on” is something modern, perhaps electrical or synthetic with the bold question, “Would you? Could you/In a car?” (pg. 26) Sam also hints that perhaps sex could spur on Everyman’s movement of the Ego through this symbol of transportation, the car.

But, as before, Everyman rejects this.

And so Sam comes back with, “You may like them/ in a tree!” (pg. 28) If technology may seem a bit shaky to Everyman, perhaps nature, symbolized by the tree, is what it takes this Everyman to recognize and respond to his inner stirring, the place which sex holds as a common,natural function. Steadfast and determined, Everyman again rejects Sam’s questioning, but the lengthy answer, again rejecting the box, fox, house, mouse, etc., shows that Sam’s (nature’s) persistence is affecting Everyman.

So Sam comes back with “A train! A train!/ A train! A train!/Could you, would you, on a train?” (pg. 33) Sam is tempting Everyman with a symbol of even larger ego movement than the car in the mighty train. Here, Seuss uses a strong symbol of fertility; with its sexual rhythm, women in less developed nations used together near train tracks and lift their skirts when a train passed, believing the virile train would fertilize them. So here, Sam tests to see if what Everyman desires is great fertility and children as numerous as the stars in the sky.

Again, Everyman curtly refuses. “Not on a train! Not in a tree!/ Not in a car! Sam! Let me be!/I would not, could not, in a box, etc.,” (pg. 34) Everyman laments.

The placement of this section by Seuss is important. This is dead center of the nine instances of Sam’s questioning (the here/there, the house/mouse, the box/fox, the car/tree and the four instances to come). The importance of this section stems from EverymanUs reply of “I would not, could not” which he begins using after Sam asks about the tree. The train, fertility, assures us that it is not impotence causing Everyman to say “could not” but something deeper stemming from Sam’s effect on Everyman.

Sam then tests to see if what Everyman wants is mystery, perhaps danger. “Would you, could you, in the dark?” (pg. 36) Sam, of course, refers not to a sinful dark, but a darkness where inhibitions are lowered, where the senses are most acute. It is also a dark of fear, as Sam here admits there is a part to sex including frightening aspects (disease, unwanted pregnancies, etc.).

And so Everyman gives the constant reply, “I would not, could not” (pg. 37).

At this point, Sam asks if sex for more hedonistic reasons would appeal to Everyman. “Would you, could you/ in the rain? The water image being, of course, the ancient symbol of life. Would Everyman have sex if, not just being a life-creating act in the form of a child, it were a life-giving act for Everyman, a refreshing act, a baptism into new life, a new awareness. Again, no.

Here then, Sam simply asks, “You do not like green eggs and ham?” (pg. 40) to the expected reply of, “I do not like them Sam-I-am” (pg. 41). I find it fascinating that Seuss here goes back to the basic question, thus underscoring the final two questions. Through Sam, Seuss has shown many things that sex can be, yet still Everyman rejects it.

And so Sam continues, “Could you, would you,/ with a goat?”(pg. 42) A surprising and pivotal question at this point; at first we wonder why Seuss would here bring in a seemingly negative symbol such as a goat. Why? The ancient Greeks used to take a goat and place the collective sins of the village on this poor beast, beat it, and send it away, ritually purifying themselves. Here, Seuss tries to show that sex is a purifying act. He says to place your sins and hang-ups on this beast, Everyman, God is not the prudish God of some interpretations, but a God asking us to embrace, not deny, our sexuality.

And then, finally, Sam asks “Would you, could you,/ on a boat?” (pg. 44) Sam indicates an even greater movement of the ego than a train or a car. Slower, yes, but larger. Plus the entire purpose of the boat is to travel on top of the water, on top of life-giving forces vastly larger than the rain Sam asked about before.

Yet Everyman still replies:

I would not, could not, on a boat.
I will not, will not, with a goat.
I will not eat in the rain.
I will not eat them on a train.
Not in the dark! Not in a tree!
Not in a car! You let me be!
I do not like them in a box.
I do not like them with a fox.
I will not eat them in a house.
I do not like them with a mouse.
I do not like them here or there.
I do not like them ANYWHERE!
(pg. 46)

I do not like green eggs and ham!
(pg. 49)

I do not like them, Sam-I-Am.
(pg. 50)

As Everyman says this, notice how it slows down from the list of what Everyman does not like to the shifting of structure into smaller, enjambed lines. What is happening here is actually better conveyed in the illustrations rather than in the language; at this point, the boat Sam speaks of sinks, leaving he and Everyman immersed in the water: no longer floating atop life, but actually swimming in it!

Here, then, the narrative leaves the theoretical as Sam no longer asks, he says:

You do not like them.
So you say.
Try them! Try them!
And you may.
Try them and you may, I say.
(pg. 53)

And so at last Everyman gives in and tries a “bite.” And is immediately electrified:

Say!
I like green eggs and ham!
I do! I like them, Sam-I-Am!
And I would eat them in a boat.
And I would eat them with a goat...
(pg. 59)
And I will eat them in the rain.
And in the dark. And on a train.
And in a car. And in a tree.
They are so good, so good, you see!
(pg. 60)
So I will eat them in a box.
And I will eat them with a fox.
And I will eat them in a house.
And I will eat them with a mouse.
And I will eat them here and there.
Say! I will eat them ANYWHERE!
(pg. 61)

It is a long journey, but Seuss shows that the persistence of nature, our God-given biological urges, eventually wears down almost anyone. As Everyman went through the full journey of sexual maturity, Everyman discovered all the things sexual expression can be until, in that final, climactic scene, everything falls into place as Everyman is both worn down by Sam’s persistence and fully aware and curious with the fact of his blooming sexuality, causing Everyman to try and joyfully embrace the “green eggs and ham.”

Through this simple (yet daring for 1960!) narrative, Dr. Seuss has created a brilliant account of human coming-of-age and gives a message that sex is not something to feel ashamed of, for did not God create sex and the Christian God command us to go forth and multiply? Taboos against sex for purely religious reasons are ridiculous. Here, it is not an ignorant, uninformed desire as the Everyman character is careful, realizing all that sex can be before embracing it.
Enjoy :)

Rick