Customer Reviews

Farm City: The Education of an Urban Farmer

5 star:		(61)
4 star:		(12)
3 star:		(6)
2 star:		(5)
1 star:		(3)

 

 

Farm City is an awesome read, written by Novella Carpenter, whose book I rank up with Bill Buford's wonderful Heat, with the spirit of Michael Pollan's Omnivore's Dilemma. And I love the voice-Novella the narrator often wonders why people open up to her and accept her so readily (among others, Chris Lee of Eccolo, who teaches her how to prepare pork from her pigs); the voice of the narrator (straightforward, funny, unblinking to the point of childlike wonder, compassionate) is hers, and as a reader I found myself liking her so very much.

I mean, she describes her community in the ghetto with compassion and humor (describing the "tumbleweeds" as "tumbleweaves").

I've been meaning to buy the book at one of our local stores, at one of Novella's book tour readings, but my availability did not intersect with her schedule. And so I ordered the book off Amazon-but for as long as I waited to buy her tome, I wasted no time in cracking it open and settling in for what turned out to be an absorbing, delightful, educational reading of a book that drips with optimism and moxie in a world that has in recent months, gone dark and brooding.

Novella has a farm. She has a farm on an abandoned lot in a part of Oakland nicknamed "Ghost Town," near the freeway and BART tracks. I've visited her farm and was astonished on my first visit to discover an oasis in a part of town that is not a destination site for many-most people drive past it on the freeway, ride past it on BART, there are very few grocery stores, and abandoned lots are many. Like the Valley of Ashes in F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby. But on her street corner, behind a chain link fence, is a lot full of green vegetables and myriad fruits, with a quiet symphony of animal noises.

The farm is serious work, with its share of tragedy: some of her birds die at the mercy of wild neighborhood dogs. Because the abandoned lot on which she squats and plants the garden is purposely unlocked, sometimes others come by and harvest things without permission. (This, she takes in stride-it's not "her" land and she willingly shares the harvest). A farm, rural or urban, is not a perfect fairytale. Nature is unpredictable-but rewarding and complex, too.

When Novella's animals are slaughtered (by her or, rarely, by a third party), it is not a heartless act but a very complex one; sad, respectful, awful, spiritual, and ultimately, pragmatic.

When she buys pigs at auction, unsure of what "Barrow" or "Gilt" might mean, she asks a boy, "Does G mean `girl'?" The way she describes the boy's reaction, "He looked at me as if he might fall over from the sheer power of my enormous idiocy. Then he nodded, so stunned by my stupidity he couldn't speak," is so full of humility and frank humor that I was bowled over as a reader. I laughed out loud. (lol to you). Most writers in the foodie/food realm are so pompous and full of themselves, that I was truly delighted and charmed by Novella here.

I'm always interested in novel structure, and I took a quick look at how Novella structured Farm City: Rabbit, Turkey, Pig. (Those who read her blog know she has added goats to her farm in recent years).

The book is written, more or less, chronologically-because Novella really did start with rabbits, moving on to turkeys, and then pigs. But I still found the livestock-centric structure interesting and effective because yes, to a farmer life and time revolves around the livestock at hand.

The book is on Oprah's list of 25 books to read this summer, and deservedly so.

I bought this book on a whim--as it's not my usual reading fare.

Within the first few sentences, I was hooked. This is the most engaging memoir I've ever read.

I did read Barbara Kingsolver's book ANIMAL, VEGETABLE, MIRACLE, and I found it both interesting and educational, but while reading it, I never seemed to lose my awareness that Barbara Kingsolver has a LOT of money. Dumping society to start a farm was a great deal of work on her family's part--but they could also afford to hire people with large equipment to come in and prepare their gardening soil. And they have a certain safety net at the prospect of failure.

In FARM CITY, Novella and her good-hearted boyfriend, Bill, are so poor, they must continually come up with creative ways to shoe-string their urban farm and keep it going. Seriously, they are scavenging wood from garbage piles to build their raised gardens. Novella takes two buckets out into the streets of the ghetto in Oakland to go "weed hunting" to bring some treats for her hens. They borrow a truck and drive way out of town to shovel up free horse manure themselves to use as fertilizer.

This alone made this book stand out for me.

One small warning though . . . vegetarians may not enjoy this book about halfway through. Some of the farm animals Novella raises are there as "food," and she does not flinch from killing them herself--and explaining the best methods. I grew up on a farm, so this didn't surprise me, but I do think readers should be warned.

Anyway, the book is wise and very funny at times and clever and unique and also provides a warm theme of community spirit. I read it in three sittings.

Imagine raising a pig or two in the gritty ghetto on dumpster food then having it turn out to be a project of master world class artisanal salumi making handed down by a few thousand years in Tuscany and transfered to America. Not bad work Novella. Not to mention it is a sweet recognition now when I see the sopressetta and pancettas at the store and know what they really mean and what they came from. It also explains the cost.

Novella's inspiring hard to believe adventures are really grounded in her thoughtful research and willingness to try new things, being imaginative and skilled is what it takes to create the ultimate luxury of self sufficiency on a dime, thrown in with the fact that she is a book collecting explorer of cuisine.

In this book you get the full contrast of Novella. From her inner city life filled with profanity, drug busts and homelessness framed against delicate peach blossoms and honey bees that drift delicately over to the Bhuddist monastery located on her street. It's an eye opener for those contrasts alone so that we may remember our smallest fortunes are all around us.

I hope this author continues with writing in her sharing way (sharing as a farmer shares).

Farm City chronicles one woman's attempt to grow and raise healthy food for herself in an Oakland ghetto. She begins her "squat farming" in an abandoned lot with a vegetable bed and some fruit trees. Chickens, ducks, and turkeys are quickly added. The former two present a challenge to the carnivorous author - can she raise and later slaughter her own food? Apparently the answer is "yes," because rabbits and pigs later join her menagerie.

This is definitely a foodie book in that the author espouses the values of fresh food that has been locally grown. There is lots of talk of the disconnect between living animals and the packaged meats available at the grocery store, etc., but coming from Carpenter these ideas do not come across as pretentious or inaccessible. It is hard to accuse a woman who works three jobs, lives in the ghetto, and shares her harvests with her neighbors of being a food snob, and that is why this book works so well - Carpenter shows that you don't have to be a member of the white upper-middle class or shop at Whole Foods to eat healthy, sustainable foods. She serves as an ambassador for farming in her own neighborhood, where the kids take an interest in gardening and especially her animals.

As a narrator Carpenter is honest, occasionally self-deprecating, and very, very funny. The tales she tells of her animals (dumpster diving to find enough food to feed two growing pigs) and her neighbors (a local African American woman runs an underground restaurant serving fish she caught herself) are hilarious and will warm your heart. Particularly moving are the sections dealing with animal slaughter - the respect and love she has for the animals she has raised for food are obvious, and she conveys well the conflicting emotions that many of us omnivores share regarding meat.

I highly recommend this book to any foodie, especially those who find Michael Pollan a tad too pretentious.

I'm rating this book more highly than I had first intended, because it grew on me as it went on. For those few reviewers who quit within the first few chapters, it is truly a shame, as the book's crowning glory was really the third section (Pigs). Since my gripes about the book mostly came from the first part, I'll start with my main complaints:

-The book, as a few others have noted, is very heavily about raising (and slaughtering, and eating) livestock. It was probably my mistake to not realize, as another reviewer pointed out, that there is a reason that this is called "Farm City" and not "Garden City." Nonetheless, I had a hard time getting past this in the first few chapters, as I kept wanting the book to talk more about the vegetable growing, beekeeping, and even the laying hens. However, these were all things that the author had done previously; they were not new endeavors for her Oakland farm, and therefore not the focus of this book. On the plus side, once I started letting the book just "be what it was," I came to greatly appreciate the livestock-focused tale.

-As one other reviewer notes, I was mildly frustrated throughout by some of Novella's naiveté about the suffering of the human beings in her midst. Her characterizations of commercial sex workers, drug users and homeless individuals was callous at times. Even at the end, when she talks about having become "part" of her neighborhood, I had to question the reality of her statement. She may see it that way, but do her diverse and struggling neighbors? (*I add this with the caveat that I am a young, educated white female who has lived in the inner city and worked with these populations...if you don't have that kind of perspective, her descriptions probably won't bother you much.)

However, there were two positive aspects of this book, which, in my mind, made it all worth it:
-The evolution of Novella's respect for her animals and their flesh is sincere, and lends maturity to her as a character (maturity that, in my mind, was previously lacking). As an animal-loving almost-vegetarian myself (low meat consumption, picky about its origins), I was surprised how much I grew to appreciate and even identify with her attitude towards her animals. I'm still not sure whether she has pushed me closer to full-vegetarianism, or to raising my own animals so that I can truly appreciate the meat that I eat, but her thought process on this matter has moved me more than anything I've read on the subject in a long time. I did not, like on reviewer here, find these descriptions to be "depressing" or over the top - I thought she devoted the appropriate amount of time and emotion to these matters.

-Though not as well-developed as her points on respecting your meat, the author also gives us something to think about in terms of what urban agriculture means - it's past, present, and future. Within the last few chapters, her increasing understanding of the role (or lack thereof) of her urban farm is both satisfying and enlightening. This, like the point about meat origins above, has opened my mind to a new way of considering things.

A final note that is meant to be informative - neither positive nor negative:
-This book is about the author's story. It's about what she thought, felt, experienced. It is not particularly instructive. You won't learn how to keep bees; you may become inspired to do so, based on Novella's experience and attachment to her hive(s). At times she delves into the science or history of certain things...but not consistently. Therefore, this is a book to help you think about and consider the idea of urban farming, not to walk you through how you can set up your own farm - after all, you probably don't have an empty lot with no zoning restrictions and absentee owner sitting empty next to your apartment.

Right now there is a major movement towards local food production, self sufficiency and a less energy intensive lifestyle happening in our country. Farm City shows us the meaningful potential role city dwellers have to become part of this movement, not just as consumers making more informed food choices, but as active participants and producers.

Evidence of the movement is everywhere. You can go see Food Inc., check out Will Allen's Growing Power website, read one of Michael Pollan's great books, essays or talks, etc. etc. But Farm City gives us something truly unique, something we did not have before: a shining example of the art of the possible in the hardscrabble setting of a tough urban neighborhood. It is a story of the agrarian dream told with wit, grace and humility, that is both educational and entertaining, never preachy or moralistic.

But Farm City offers more than just a riveting narrative of a personal journey and pilgrimage. As the subtitle suggests, the book also offers an education to those who want to learn about the practicalities of growing food and raising animals at the backyard scale. It will inspire anyone on the local food journey to begin what we can, right here, right now. Regardless of where we are on the learning curve. No matter how marginal or provisional our version of "farm" may be.

Novella Carpenter shows us that growing food is finally all about our connections and relationships: to the land, to plants and animals, and to each other. As a result, it is also a political act, and possibly one of the most radical and concrete responses we can make to the social, environmental and energy-related problems pressing on us today. Ultimately, it is about faith: that in spite of the adversities and predators of various kinds that inevitably arise, the good earth does provide to those who persevere.

Read this book if you are looking for the inspiration and courage to begin a new thing in this time of amazing transition. It will make your heart glad.

This isn't a bad book, but it's not quite what I thought it would be. While the author, Novella, does discuss vegetable gardening, the focus really becomes the ANIMALS she raises on the small empty lot behind her rented apartment in the run-down city of Oakland, CA. That's all fine and dandy, but since she's raising them for food, it's a little...depressing?

Now I am a 'mostly vegetarian,' so there's that factor. And I get the whole 'I raised the animals myself so they had a better life prior to dying' deal. But a lot of times I feel like people are just trying to convince themselves in that case. And still, Novella is looking at bunnies and ducks and pigs and thinking how cute they are and how happy they are and how DELICIOUS they will be all in the same breath. I get that meat comes from somewhere and blah blah blah, but it's kinda disturbing to me. I read the passages where she kills the animals and I'm fine with it, but it still just seems gross.

I don't think I could be friends with Novella, even though I DO admire what she does and think it's really cool. She's got that kind of self-righteous thing going on that you probably have to have to raise 200 pound pigs in a small city lot. And she kind of admits it and all, but in a way that makes me think we would never get along. Which is fine. Just saying.

So anyway - it's a good book for what it is, but I thought I was going to be reading more about veggie gardening and general garden experiences - the animal raising, dreaming about eating of, and butchering takes up probably 90% of the book. The veggies (and beehive, even) are really incidental.

I found myself both laughing and wincing as I read Novella Carpenter's Farm City: The Education of an Urban Farmer. Any reader wanting to glimpse into a way of living that's more likely than not to be opposite from one's own will find a lot of reading pleasure here. Carpenter describes growing food as a squatter on a lot next to the apartment she rented, and also keeping bees, raising rabbits and even raising two pigs, all in the city of Oakland, California. Dumpster diving three times a week at gourmet restaurants to find food for the hogs made me wince. The smells of the place also came alive for me, and made me glad that I don't live next door. Humor and lightheartedness reign throughout, and Carpenter tells a light story with grace and ease. Farm City may lead some readers to reconsider eating locally.

Rating: Three-star (Recommended)

Carpenter has an engaging writing style and there are some charming stories in the book, but for someone with a keen interest in urban agriculture, this book offered very little in the way of knowledge.

A friend gave me this book and I figured it would be perfect for me because it's about a farm in the city and I have a farm in the city. I love the premise, an urban farm on abandoned land in inner-city Oakland. The trouble is that Farm City tries too hard to be edgy and hip. About half way through, I gave up on it. I'll hand it to Novella, she's done some neat urban farm stuff and she's cornered the market on edgy, but the edgy wears VERY thin, VERY quickly.

Secondly, and maybe this is just a different take on my over-edgy complaint, but I didn't like the way Carpenter handled her discussions of prostitutes, homeless people, and drug-addicts. At first, her descriptions of these people intrigued me. I wanted to learn more about their lives. Sadly, I didn't. I'm not that worldly, but I seriously doubt that prostitutes, homeless people, and drug addicts are so carefree and fun.

Novella Carpenter has been portrayed as a modern day Betty MacDonald and I'll have to agree with this comparison in a certain respect. If you've read, The Egg and I, you may be remember how MacDonald portrays the Native Americans of Vashon Island and how reading the chapter about her afternoon of picnicking with them gave you a deep rooted sensation that Betty MacDonald had a lot more wit than she had compassion or understanding. Carpenter's portrayal of the disenfranchised is much the same. It makes light of true tragedy, and in the end, that's not funny.