Djurens frigörelse

I write this review from a place of some bias.

Sausages. Rotisserie chicken. Lamb kotletter. Bratwurst. Roast Beef. These words marked out the evenings of my childhood. We ate meat twice a day, and on holidays thrice, moving through the day from a bacon fry-up to a ham-sandwich to a steak with mushroom sauce. A meal without meat was considered incomplete, and vegetarianism was a scorned and alien disease that infected no-one among my family or friends.

I was no supermarket meat-eater, hiding from the realities of the slaughterhouse. My father took me into faraway mountains and across deep seas where we wielded gevär, rod and spear in anticipation of the evening's cook-pot while never contemplating the lives ended at our hands.

And yet, inom became a Vego. A tofu-muncher. A salad-scarer. The scourge of the suburban B-B-Q.

Seventeen years ago, when I first considered becoming a vegetarian, this book, Peter Singer's Animal Liberation was the catalyst t