"If you, like me, enter into Pigs expecting a brazenly absurd novel from its blurb, you'll find that it more than delivers on that front, from its finger-severing pigs, to the grown-ups who only speak in high-society minutiae, to the angry sea that gives welts to whoever soaks in it. But, like me, I wager you'll also be surprised by its deftly scintillating commentary on generation gaps, social norms, growing up, and humankind's wasteful ways. And that's not even getting into its disarming, oft stunning moments of beauty amid chaos. Pigs is wickedly funny, a damn wild ride that always has new surprises ready to blindside you on the next page, and deserves a place on the shelf of any oddball fiction enthusiast."
Four children live on an island that serves as the repository for all the world’s garbage. Trash arrives, the children sort it, and then they feed it to a herd of insatiable pigs: a perfect system. But when a barrel washes ashore with a boy inside, the children must decide whether he is more of the world’s detritus, meant to be fed to the pigs, or whether he is one of them. Written in exquisitely wrought prose, Pigs asks questions about community, environmental responsibility, and the possibility of innocence.