At the end of March when spring still felt so very far away and the seeds I had ordered for my garden were neatly bundled in a box, I received an offer for an e-galley of a book called A Farm Dies Once a Year by Arlo Crawford. I had been wondering at the time if perhaps I had missed my calling; wondering if I were in my mid-twenties again whether I wouldn’t really like owning a farm. My dad grew up on a farm and my mom lived on a farm too for a while when she was a kid so I’ve heard stories, I know it’s hard work. But never having lived or worked on a farm myself, really understanding what that hard work is was beyond me so it is easy to wonder whether I would have enjoyed being a farmer. Of course at this time of my life the point is moot but that doesn’t stop me from wondering what if?
After reading A Farm Dies Once a Year I think I would probably have found the work very satisfying but everything that goes along with farming, not so much. My urban garden will suffice, thanks, but I do wish it were just a little bigger. Ok, a lot bigger, but not acres and acres bigger.
At thirty-one Crawford has a bit of an existential what-am-I-going-to-do-with-my-life crisis. He had grown up on his parents’ organic vegetable farm, 75 acres in rural southern Pennsylvania. Dissatisfied with city living, and never having lived or worked on a farm before, Crawford’s parents moved to the country, rented some land and started farming. It was hard but satisfying. Soon they bought the land that became New Morning Farm. Crawford’s parents always hoped that he or his younger sister would be interested in taking over the farm from them one day but both of the kids fled to the city as soon as they could.
At the time of his crisis, Crawford is working at a museum in Cambridge, Mass and living with his longtime girlfriend Sarah. He decides that going back to the farm for a growing season will help him figure things out. He convinces Sarah to come too.
The book is written in a plain, straightforward style that fits the subject, but I somehow expected it to be more meditative, more thoughtful about the nature of work and why Crawford, his parents, and even Sarah found working on the farm so very satisfying.
More than anything the book is about Crawford’s parents and the history of the farm. There is also an attempt by Crawford to understand and come to terms with the murder of Bert, his parents’ best friend. Bert, inspired by Crawford’s parents, had also decided to buy a farm not far from them. One day while out in his fields he was shot and killed by a neighbor who was angry about Bert’s dogs getting out and harassing his cows. Bert had a wife and young daughter. His wife was in the field too and saw the whole thing take place.
But when it comes to Crawford himself, it is hard to see how working on the farm for the summer changes him. It does, he tells us it does. But other than his expressing to his father how proud he is to be his son, there is no sense of movement or epiphany. Sure, when he and Sarah leave at the end of the season and move to San Francisco, Crawford takes up work as a produce manager at a natural foods store, but he tells us he still hasn’t figured out what he is going to do with his life. This left me wondering what was the point of the book then? Sure, I got a detailed look into a season on a farm and I am no longer left to wonder just how hard the hard work is. I have a better understanding and a greater appreciation for what small farmers do. But it’s not enough. It’s not so very much more than “this is what I did on my summer vacation.”
I wanted so much to like this book. I tried hard while reading it to muster up excitement about it. In the end, however, I found it spent too much time on the surface and not enough time diving into the depths looking for meaning and insight.
Ah, well — sometimes we come to a book with great expectations and it sort of leaves us a bit — wanting. At the moment, I’m sitting in a Starbucks [no big surprise there] and just embarked on a LARGE novel about a similar sort of angst — the young character Clyde Griffiths, profoundly disillusioned with the evangelistic fervor of his family, and fed up with their going-nowhere itinerant lifestyle. He’s poorly educated and just now realizing that there has got to be more out of life, as it pertains to him. I have high expectations for this book, and hope it pays off because wow — it’s going to take a sizeable proportion of the rest of my life to read it! It’s called An American Tragedy,?i>, by Theodore Dreiser. Have you read this one Stefanie?
LikeLike
Cipriano, I’ve not read An American Tragedy but it’s one of those books on my like to read someday list. I didn’t realize it was so long! I hope it improves for you!
LikeLike
Oh!! The let down…I so understand it!! Try Katherine Mansfield…I hope she will pick you up!
LikeLike
cirtnecce, it happens sometimes, doesn’t it? Mansfield is wonder, thanks for the rec! One of the good things about being a multiple books in-progress reader is there is always something good to pick up the slack of the disappointing 🙂
LikeLike
Hmm. It sounds like it had a good premise but somehow got off task? I know memoirs tend to meander, but from your description I wouldn’t quite have expected the tangents the author seemed to have gone off on. Lots inf interesting threads maybe? I think I can safely say I am not farmer material–I totally respect people who try and make livings from farming–it must be a LOT of work. Somehow just having a few containers will plants feels formidable to me (wimp that I am….).
LikeLike
Danielle, it did get off track. It ended up being more about his parents than about him. I can see that by talking about his parents he was trying to come to terms with his feelings about the farm since the two seemed to be inextricably linked, but there was a lack of distinct and/or insightful connections. Yes, farming as a profession is a lot of work for results that can never be guaranteed. I think if I only had to worry about providing for myself I’d enjoy it but as a way to make a salary, not so much.
LikeLike
Thanks for the review Stefanie. I put the book on reserve and I’ll keep in mind to not expect deep personal insight on the author’s part. My father’s family settled in that area from Germany in the 1700s and I would like to read the book as I’m in a neighboring county. I haven’t been “over that way” in a while.
LikeLike
Vanessa, since you have a connection to the area you may enjoy the book much more than I did! Let me know what you think of it when you read it 🙂
LikeLike
I finished last night and I too found it lacking in terms of depth. I felt like Crawford was using the farm as a place for plot, and that despite his involvement in the summer season, was still disconnected from his parents farm. I felt excited when he described the passion his father had at the DC market with his customers. Maybe his parents should write a book about organic small farming. I did enjoy seeing my hometown mentioned and places I was familiar with.
LikeLike
Vanessa, how fun seeing places you know mentioned, it makes it so much more real in a way. Yes, you nailed it, the farm was used for plot! Until that scene at the DC market I was really not liking his father at all he seemed like such a gruff, distant man. The book would have been so much better if there was more passion in it throughout and not just in that scene. Because we both know that small organic farming takes a certain dedication and passion, it isn’t just a job. I think Crawford understands that in his head but doesn’t get that in his heart.
LikeLike
That’s a shame though it sounds like you got something out of it. I’m still reeling though from the murder of Bert. I can’t quite believe – though I know it does happen – that someone would do something so cold blooded to a neighbour.
LikeLike
whisperinggums, though it wasn’t really what I was hoping for, I still enjoyed parts of it and learned a few things. Yes, Bert’s murder was horrible and shocking. He was in his fields picking squash with his wife and a few other people, the man drove up in his truck, got out yelling and pointing a shotgun, and in spite of everyone’s attempts to talk the man down he shot Bert in the back. It’s no wonder the author had a hard time coming to terms with it especially since Crawford was only 12 at the time and Bert was his parents’ best friend and like a second father.
LikeLike
I can’t imagine seeing that at such an age.
LikeLike
Crawford blessedly didn’t see it happen and neither did Bert’s daughter who was a little younger than Crawford. But of course a child’s imagination looms large and for years he worried about his own dad being murdered.
LikeLike
I can understand that … Terrifying.
LikeLike