Who hasn’t gone off to camp singing this simple children’s song to while away the hours spent in car or bus? Yet, as this story moves inexorably toward its shocking climax, a number of universal themes emerge. As in the Iliad, Macbeth and other classics, an uninformed act leads to a tragic fate. The song is actually an epic of compulsive risk-taking, child neglect, food adulteration, medical malpractice and premature death—indeed, even death does not end this forced march toward that dreaded terminus, “The Other Place.” In this case, the phrase “God knows where it’s been” takes on a singularly portentous shading.
”Found a peanut,
found a peanut,
found a peanut just now.
Just now, I found a peanut,
found a peanut just now…"
The saga begins with cunningly deceptive lightness: a child stumbles upon the legume of doom in a circumstance that’s commonplace, yet heavy with foreboding.
“Just now…"
It is worthwhile to examine the overarching term of immediacy, ”just now.” This monotonous riff becomes a signpost on the road to perdition. Repetitive and sonorous, the phrase drives throughout the song as a sort of threnody, a tonal mockery and ironic postscript to every stumble as the tragedy builds.
“Crack’d it open,
crack’d it open,
crack’d it open just now.
Just now I crack’d it open,
crack’d it open just now…"
With innocent anticipation, the storyteller breaches the nut and enters its sanctum. The phrase “crack’d it open” has its own cathexis, since loss of innocence begins with a venture into the unknown. Here, a simple act allows ingress to the forbidden nut-womb. For a boy in particular, the symbolism of “cracking” and entering the vagina-peanut, or more precisely, the vagina-peanut shell, is obvious.
“It was rotten,
it was rotten,
it was rotten just now.
Just now, it was rotten,
it was rotten just now…"
Just as The Fall began with rebellion and forbidden knowledge, eating of the tainted peanut foreshadows all that is to come. The seeds of disillusionment sprout with the discovery that the nut is a lie. The shell conceals not nourishment but rot.This experience can, of course, be extrapolated out to many life experiences: romances, relationships, and careers are all “crack’d open” with eager anticipation—to find perhaps only rot awaiting.
“Ate it anyway,
ate it anyway,
ate it anyway just now.
Just now, I ate it anyway,
ate it anyway just now…"
Defiant ingestion forms the core of this epic, interpreted by Freud as Besetzung—a taking possession of. After knowingly flouting the internalized parental caution (“God knows where it’s been”), the storyteller takes irrevocable possession of parental power through the act of eating the now rotten “parent-peanut,” thereby ending parental ability to delay its own budding sexuality. A corollary theory relates the nut consumption—for a female—to a resolution of penis envy by consuming the touted “penis-peanut.”
“Got a tummy ache,
got a tummy ache,
got a tummy ache just now.
Just now I got a tummy ache,
got a tummy ache just now…"
Now, the consequences of the transgression begin to fully manifest from their location in the mythical seat of black magic, the stomach. Despite endless, unresolvable debate as to whether the “tummy ache” results from eating the peanut or not, the storyteller now realizes that events are spiraling beyond control.
“Appendicitis,
appendicitis,
appendicitis just now.
Just now appendicitis,
appendicitis just now…."
There remains skepticism as to whether a rotten peanut can actually “cause” appendicitis. One explanation is that a crypto-appendicitis could have existed in the background all along. However disease as punishment for rebellion against authority is an ancient theme that predates banishment from the Garden and even Exodus. Interestingly, the storyteller seems eerily cheerful at this point.
“Operation,
operation,
operation just now.
Just now operation,
operation just now…"
With the oddly belated intervention of medical treatment, the auditor of this tale might feel relief, but this would be illusory. Surgery presumably takes place at the behest of the parents, though the parents are never mentioned. This strange omission certainly adds to the pervasive sense of abandonment and loss. The song also fails to mention diagnostic testing or imaging. We are not allowed to know whether the peanut played any role in what happens next.
“Died anyway,
died anyway,
died anyway just now.
Just now I died anyway,
died anyway just now…"
The dread realization grows that we are hearing (indeed, singing) a story told from the grave. The issue of medical malpractice necessarily arises at this point. Was the problem diagnostic? Was it surgical error or perhaps even murder? Was the protagonist doomed whether she ate the peanut or not? We seek answers in vain, since the storyteller seems oddly disengaged from her own demise.
“Went to heaven,
went to heaven,
went to heaven just now.
Just now I went to heaven,
went to heaven just now…"
At first one almost feels a sense of consolation after the initial shock of death. “At least” there is an afterlife. Perhaps, we speculate, she is an angel or some other heavenly manifestation, and although the tale is sad, it meets conventional expectations that when somebody dies, he or she can at least expect a “good” outcome.
“Th’ gates were locked,
gates were locked,
gates were locked just now.
Just just now th’ gates were locked,
gates were locked just now…"
Now we are assaulted with the unthinkable: picture the once lighthearted peanut-gobbling seraph standing in her diaphanous robes or hospital gown at some mammoth golden portal, unable to pass; perhaps trying the door or handle, even kicking—only to find herself barred from entry. A central conundrum emerges: were the gates locked because of the peanut, or some other, worse behavior? Somebody who would carelessly eat a rotten peanut might indeed be a serial offender.
“Went to the other place,
went to the other place,
went to the other place just now.
Just now I went to the other place,
went to the other place just now…"
The storyteller’s inability or unwillingness to state just what “the other place” is only amplifies the horror of nothingness. Is the storyteller relating this tale from hell? If so, then the busload of singing sojourners has arrived at a very dark place indeed. For there is no more to the song. We are left with nothing but speculation on the afterlife, destiny, and peanuts, and the dark truths within that they all guard so jealously.