Now that he is in total and undisputed control of Animal Farm, Napoleon becomes a paranoid egomaniac, and Orwell stresses this new phase of Napoleon’s character in several ways. First, he virtually vanishes from public; when he is seen, he is first heralded by a black cockerel. Second, he lives in separate rooms from the other pigs and only eats from Jones’ Crown Derby dinner service. Third, he orders the gun to be fired on his birthday and is referred to with flattering epithets, such as “Protector of the Sheep-fold.” Fourth, he orders Minimus’ poem about himself to be inscribed on the wall of the big barn, surmounted by a painting of his profile. Fifth, he has a pig named Pinkeye taste all of his food to be sure it is not poisoned. Sixth, he names the completed windmill Napoleon Mill and, after selling the timber, has the animals slowly walk past him as he lies on a bed of straw next to his piles of money. Again, Orwell displays a politician’s image as a powerful means of controlling his subjects.
None of these unabashed displays of his own importance, however, deter the animals from worshipping him. The poem written by Minimus is notable for the ways in which it resembles a prayer, likening Napoleon to “the sun in the sky” and flattering him with lines like, “Thou are the giver of / All that thy creatures love.” (Note the formal poetic diction found in words like “Thou,” “Ere,” and “thee” that seemingly elevates the dignity of the poem’s subject.) As a whole, however, the poem portrays Napoleon as an omniscient force (“Thou watches over all, / Comrade Napoleon”) that begins brainwashing his subjects from their first living moments:
“Had I a sucking pig,
Ere he had grown as big
Even as a pint bottle or a rolling-pin,
He should have learned to be
Faithful and true to thee,
Yes, his first squeak should be
“Comrade Napoleon!”
