Customer Reviews

Trauma Farm: A Rebel History of Rural Life

5 star:		(4)
4 star:		(0)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

had ever collaborated on a book, it might have been Brian Brett's Trauma Farm. On an idyllic, rural (but rapidly gentrifying) island off the west coast of Canada, Brett, a poet and potter, and his wife Sharon, a nurse, negotiate a precarious living out of a 10-acre farm. While the economics of such small-scale farming are Quixotic, the lessons Brett draws from the land in all its moods and seasons are, by turns, practical, prophetic, and poetic. This is a beautifully written, honest, and, I think, very wise meditation on the realities of how we feed ourselves, how we nurture (or don't nurture) the land that in turn nurtures us, and our relationships with the animals and humans with whom we live and work. If you've ever entertained fantasies of "going back to the land", or even just baked your own bread for the sheer satisfaction of feeding yourself through your own efforts, this book will speak to you. Erudite, witty, poetic, hard-nosed, Brett doesn't sugar coat the hard realities of farming, nor does he exaggerate the difficulties. This is a life, and a style of life, he has chosen, and which he celebrates, even as he laments the wide scale loss of such small, intricate farms, and the prevailing decline in biodiversity that is the legacy of industrial agriculture.

If you've read Michael Pollan's Omnivore's Dilemma, or have been intrigued by the 100 Mile Diet, or haunt your local farmer's market in search of tomatoes that taste like tomatoes, or care about the conditions in which your daily meat lives and dies, then reading Trauma Farm is a logical next step in your evolution towards being a conscious and optimistic foodie.

Mix a little of James Herriot (All Creatures Great and Small), Garrison Keillor (Lake Wobegon Days), Michael Pollan (The Omnivores Dilemma), and David Sedaris, and you have Trauma Farm.

It's a passionate argument on the defense of the small, mixed family farm in the face of smothering regulations. The absurdity of life on a farm is presented in short stories that are at times so amusing that I caught myself laughing out loud in on the train during my morning commute; I can't recall a book ever getting me to laugh during that grim stretch of time between breakfast and work.

As one of the most enjoyable books I've ever read, it well deserves a space on your bookshelf. It's a shame it's not gotten the recognition it deserves.

For anyone that has spent time on this idyllic island, whether as a day tripper, a seasonal visitor, or a permanent resident, this is a must read. It truly captures the spirit of this magical island.

I bought this book, hoping to get a glimpse of farm life experience and some insight into the relationship betweeen small farming and the newer megafarms. This book accomplishes this. You will learn a little bit, get a sense of how the author relates to their farm and be exposed to some of the current dilemmas of international farming policy. But you might not enjoy it.

The book is formulaic, boring, and insists on making almost every experience a mini-diatribe against government, mega-farming, city life, etc etc. Also, if you're used to reading books that respect your intelligence or desire for critical thought, this book will disappoint. I'm already sold on the idea of small-scale local farming, but the author's arguments are generally so devoid of substance and so reliant on persuasive techniques, I found myself rolling my eyes a third of the way through.

I gave three stars because it's not easy to find non-fiction literature about farm life, especially from a personal perspective. If I knew of other stuff out there though, I would steer you to that first.

Even if you've never been to Canada, or Salt Spring Island, B.C. or lived on a farm you will enjoy this tightly written book which reminds me of the writing of Garrison Keillor, a little of Tom Wolfe and a little Whole Earth Catalog. It must remind someone of William Saroyon as now it is on the short list for Stanford University's William Saroyan prize for new writers (though Brian Brett has written other things.) If you have an interest in where our food comes from and shouldn't come from it is a non-polemic but full of facts narrative written in such a fashion to make us feel we are getting up in the morning to do the chores on Trauma Farm, a tongue in cheek reference to his learn by doing approach to farming. We also get to know the community of SSI (we share the same vet) and how things get done on an island dedicated to a sustainable life style. Too bad Canadian books get such short notice in the U.S. (I, a former Californian) because this book would have great appeal to the U.S. It's so good I have started reading it for a second time even though I am only part way through the entire book.