June 16th
I only recently found out about Wendell Berry (notwithstanding his tens of fiction, non-fiction, and poetry books he wrote in his lifetime already). From the description on my favorite literary websites, it seemed like a great writer for me: an academic turned a farmer, still living on his ancestral homestead in Kentucky, a poet, an environmental activist, a cultural and social critic (skeptical of both major American political parties), outspoken against industrial farming and the industrialization of life, against violence against others and against the natural world, against exploitive global economics and environmental destruction by ruthless corporations.
In a word — a writer and author with perfect ideas for my reading (and thinking) pleasure.
And I gave up reading this book after 25 pages….
The first couple of essays were about simple, quiet, and uncelebrated labor in accordance with environmental rules, based mostly on the experience of generations of agrarian and rural workers — like a small sawmill that relies on logging done by teams of horses, without the need to build roads and using heavy equipment, without possible damage to the forest floor and topsoil — great stuff! But I just couldn’t accept and overlook the usage of the word “God” and references to “God’s work, God’s natural order” and such in this book. Wendell Berry doesn’t mention any particular religion but I simply couldn’t go past those references to religion. Referencing anything to God (any God) or religion (any religion) bothers me a lot and actually made me put down this book. I cannot take seriously any writer (no matter how sincere he or she is). Maybe I will miss something very good or important because of that but I don’t care. That is my choice — write, create, or simply live your life but don’t mention your God to me — that is an immediate and complete turn-off for me.
