Farms, Fires, and More

One of the more provocative books I’ve read in a while is the benign sounding Pastoral Song: A Farmer’s Journey by James Rebanks.  It begins quietly with an unsentimental look at growing up on a small family farm in England’s Lake District.  Descriptions of the attractive area and the adjoining wildscape abound.

The second section deals with changing attitudes about the place and function of a farm.  Previously, it was an attractive setting for a family home, plus a source of identity, pride, and fulfillment for the farmer in a job well done.  In the 1970’s, the purpose of the farm changed to making money and expanding; it was a business that was supposed to acquire bigger machinery, produce more crops, and make more profit.  Earl Butz is quoted.

In the last section, farmers awaken to the downsides of this perpetual growth. They notice the disappearance of common insects, birds, mammals and wildflowers, and realize this reflects an insidious loss of soil fertility and overuse of pesticides.  Fertility is not being replenished by artificial fertilizer or the practice of monocropping.  Industrial farming is not just an environmental problem, but a business one as well.  Continuing to spend down capital, in this case fertile soil, is not a sustainable business practice.

Rebanks details what he is doing on his inherited farm to rebuild his soil and forge a way of farming to integrate the soil’s needs with a productive cattle and sheep farm.  I have met the term “rewilding” in a previous book (Wild Silence by Raynor Winn).  Rebanks also uses “regenerative agriculture” and tells us this budding science is the only good thing to come from American agriculture. 

This thoughtful narrative shares many insights on the intersection of the wild and the planted, the necessity of animals on a healthy farm, the value of a farm to the community (not just food production.)  But it concerns me very much that this Oxford educated, knowledgeable, dedicated, more than energetic man cannot make a living from his farm.  His farmer friends (and of course this successful author) have other jobs to make ends meet. The need for sustainable agricultural practices and the economic plight of the small farmer aren’t news items, but Rebanks does an excellent job of focusing our attention on their importance.

A fire roaring through the Los Angeles Public Library in 1986 begins Susan Orlean’s The Library Book, her nonfiction account of libraries and the huge array of materials they hold. The fire whodunnit weaves through the book as its unifying thread.

Starting with this particular fire, Orlean moves to how fires burn in general, how arson is determined, the difficulties of getting an arson conviction. But the fire is just the starting point for this book about all things library. She details the history of the LA library building, its colorful staff, its place in the community, how people rallied to restore it after the fire, and the restoration of smoke and water damaged books.

Moving outward from LA, she discusses more general topics such as the targeting of libraries during warfare. There are the specifics of the magnitude of the shipping department for the interlibrary loan system.  There are intriguing small details such as the statistic that library users are 80% male; librarians are 80% female.   

Throughout the book is the evolving vision of what kind of information system a library should be.  A keeper of books?  Of course.  A partner with technology?  Of course, again, say librarians who call themselves “Wikipedians in residence.”  How many services such as job search assistance, seed storage, or marriage licenses are appropriate?  What about the homeless who are attracted to its warm safe space?

Throughout this meticulous, sometimes too abundant, amount of information shines Orlean’s respect for the impact of reading and books. She quotes an older librarian who tells her he is planning to move to Sri Lanka when he retires.  Has he ever been there?  No, “But I’ve seen the pictures and I’ve read the books.”

Having to spend some time in Covid quarantine, I used Libby to download two more Walter Easley books (see previous post), Numbers 7 and 8. 

In Number 7, No Way to Die, fly fishing in Coos Bay Oregon is the setting instead of grape growing in the Willamette Valley.  Easley’s intrepid sleuth, Cal Claxton, saves a young surfer mistakenly convicted of murder.  Each of Easley’s books deals with a social issue, and in this one it is women’s rights, a subject dear to the heart of his daughter.

His most recent mystery, No Witness, tackles the issue of undocumented workers who commonly work in the vineyards growing the grapes and bringing in the harvest.  A young Latina is murdered outside her home.  Is it mistaken identity or has an innocent young woman discovered something nefarious in wine country?

Ivan Doig first introduced Morrie Morgan in The Whistling Season.  He apparently hadn’t had enough of this erudite cosmopolitan character who he juxtaposed with the wilds of 1900’s Montana.

In Work Song, Morrie returns, moves to Butte and gets a job as a librarian.  Once again, Doig’s love of books is apparent as he describes a spectacular out of place library full of gorgeous leather-bound editions.  The contrast between books and reading and rough farmers and miners is one of Doig’s favorite topics.  Morrie is soon embroiled in the conflict between the miners’ union and the powers of Anaconda Copper Mining.

Copper mining itself is the largest entity in the book; its descriptions dwarf the other characters and details of plot which seem paltry by comparison. In this case, Doig doesn’t have the skills of superb teacher Morrie, and left me bored with excessive details. However, my buddy readers who are more history oriented thought all that information was just fine.

3 thoughts on “Farms, Fires, and More”

  1. I wait impatiently for your next blog, and here it is! Thanks for continuing to make sure we are well informed about the books you read, an interesting assortment!

  2. Just finished “Work Song”. I agree that mining takes the brunt of the plot but I thoroughly enjoyed the life within the library. Sometimes we just need a book that is easy mind and uplifting of the spirit. Doig provides this. On the other hand, the book falls short of the quality of his first of the trilogy. So a bit disappointing.

    1. Yes, I liked Whistling Season better also. But there is something appealing and relaxing about his books. I may give Sweet Thunder a try.

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