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Shepherd: A Memoir
Upon moving to Appalachian Ohio with their two small children, Richard Gilbert and his wife are thrilled to learn there still are places in America that haven’t been homogenized. But their excitement over the region’s beauty and quirky character turns to culture shock as they try to put down roots far from their busy professional jobs in town. They struggle to rebuild a farmhouse, and Gilbert gets conned buying equipment and sheep―a ewe with an “outie” belly button turns out to be a neutered male, and mysterious illnesses plague the flock. Haunted by his father’s loss of his boyhood farm, Gilbert likewise struggles to earn money in agriculture. Finally an unlikely teacher shows him how to raise hardy sheep―a remarkable ewe named Freckles whose mothering ability epitomizes her species’ hidden beauty. Discovering as much about himself as he does these gentle animals, Gilbert becomes a seasoned agrarian and a respected livestock breeder. He makes peace with his romantic dream, his father, and himself. Shepherd , a story both personal and emblematic, captures the mythic pull and the practical difficulty of family scale sustainable farming.
- GenresMemoirNonfiction
323 pages, Paperback
First published May 1, 2014
4 people are currently reading
289 people want to read
About the author
Richard Gilbert
1 book31 followersRichard Gilbert is the author of SHEPHERD: A MEMOIR. His essays have appeared in Brevity, Chautauqua, Fourth Genre, Orion, River Teeth, and other publications.
He teaches writing at Otterbein University in Westerville, Ohio.
He teaches writing at Otterbein University in Westerville, Ohio.
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Displaying 1 - 24 of 24 reviews
April 22, 2014
Today is Earth Day 2014, and how appropriate to review this earthy book that I recommend for anyone who farms or wants to farm or eats food that comes from farms.
To be honest I'm 3/4 into this book, but I will have no problem finishing. I do not want the book to end, and I dread the ending because I already know Mr Gilbert and his family are going to leave the place they are rooting themselves into by loving it, listening to it, and raising a family and sheep there. Of course I'm loving the place more with each page.
Mr. Gilbert abilities to stay in touch with who he is and the reasons behind his 'judgments' combine with incredible wordsmithing to draw us into the hills and pastures of Mossy Dell in southeastern Ohio, and to feed on the relationships that emerge. One example from p 221, where Neighbor Johnny is helping to replaced a shared fence line:
"Even by the standards of Appalachia, Johnny was casual. Along the road, he and Penny had planted a vegetable garden, now overtaken by weeds. They kept some ducks, and when I'd given them eight baby chicks in April--one of our hens had hatched too many to care for--they'd let them die somehow. Maybe their dogs had gulped them down. Johnny affected a southern drawl, and a Rebel flag flew from a pole in front of his trailer. His ethos seemed to have sprung from the Mother Earth New, Guns & Ammo, and Iron HOrse. Sometimes he helped Fred and Shane harvest crops or build houses, and he commuted to Columbus to work when contractors were hiring laborers. Before dawn, I'd hear his muffler-less pickup roar to life up Ridge Road. Today he wore cracked leather work boots with his canvas Carhartts, and a beer belly drew taut his orange Harley-Davidson T-shirt.
"Mister Gilbert?" Johnny offered me Budweiser at the end of the day from the cooler on the tailgate of his Chevy. He held it toward me, and a friendly smile parted his scruffy brown beard. I'd been worried when I saw the cooler. Drinking beer while operating a post pounder was the stupidest thing imaginable--I could see the headlines--but Johnny had waited. 'Thanks Johnny,' I said. The truth was, I envied his insular world and uncouth friends. He had friends. And his buddies had time to drive over on a Saturday and hang out, enjoying the mild weather, watching other people work. All I did anymore was work, either at the press or the farm, and I couldn't keep up anywhere. My coworkers thought I was crazy, I could tell, although I didn't share a tenth of what was going on."
My main hope as I near the end of the book is that Mossy Dell not be sold to developers. PLEASE!
I found out about this book from Shirley Showalter, and I highly recommend Shirley's review:
http://www.shirleyshowalter.com/2014/...
To be honest I'm 3/4 into this book, but I will have no problem finishing. I do not want the book to end, and I dread the ending because I already know Mr Gilbert and his family are going to leave the place they are rooting themselves into by loving it, listening to it, and raising a family and sheep there. Of course I'm loving the place more with each page.
Mr. Gilbert abilities to stay in touch with who he is and the reasons behind his 'judgments' combine with incredible wordsmithing to draw us into the hills and pastures of Mossy Dell in southeastern Ohio, and to feed on the relationships that emerge. One example from p 221, where Neighbor Johnny is helping to replaced a shared fence line:
"Even by the standards of Appalachia, Johnny was casual. Along the road, he and Penny had planted a vegetable garden, now overtaken by weeds. They kept some ducks, and when I'd given them eight baby chicks in April--one of our hens had hatched too many to care for--they'd let them die somehow. Maybe their dogs had gulped them down. Johnny affected a southern drawl, and a Rebel flag flew from a pole in front of his trailer. His ethos seemed to have sprung from the Mother Earth New, Guns & Ammo, and Iron HOrse. Sometimes he helped Fred and Shane harvest crops or build houses, and he commuted to Columbus to work when contractors were hiring laborers. Before dawn, I'd hear his muffler-less pickup roar to life up Ridge Road. Today he wore cracked leather work boots with his canvas Carhartts, and a beer belly drew taut his orange Harley-Davidson T-shirt.
"Mister Gilbert?" Johnny offered me Budweiser at the end of the day from the cooler on the tailgate of his Chevy. He held it toward me, and a friendly smile parted his scruffy brown beard. I'd been worried when I saw the cooler. Drinking beer while operating a post pounder was the stupidest thing imaginable--I could see the headlines--but Johnny had waited. 'Thanks Johnny,' I said. The truth was, I envied his insular world and uncouth friends. He had friends. And his buddies had time to drive over on a Saturday and hang out, enjoying the mild weather, watching other people work. All I did anymore was work, either at the press or the farm, and I couldn't keep up anywhere. My coworkers thought I was crazy, I could tell, although I didn't share a tenth of what was going on."
My main hope as I near the end of the book is that Mossy Dell not be sold to developers. PLEASE!
I found out about this book from Shirley Showalter, and I highly recommend Shirley's review:
http://www.shirleyshowalter.com/2014/...
March 4, 2017
I love this book. Let me tell you why.
In order to rate 5-stars, a memoir must be or have:
1. Eloquent writing—demonstrating comprehensive understanding of the craft, as well as the art, of wordsmithing, but without overdoing it. In my young years I got a kick out of word-cleverness for its own sake, but in my middle age (after decades of reading an average of 2 books every week) form-without-substance no longer amuses me, and I find it embarrassing when the author puts on an immodest tone of “look at what a literary genius I am!” I prefer a bit of modesty.
2. A coherent story—I want a narrative structure that makes dramatic/cinematic sense. It doesn’t need to be a chronologic telling, but it does need an arc derived from the classic pursuit of desire and the struggle with conflict/adversity, culminating when that pursuit is fulfilled or relinquished. In other words, I’m looking for a quest.
3. Rooted in a place—and if it’s a rural place, that’s even better. And if it’s about farming or growing, that’s best of all. In order to accomplish this, the author must possess intimate knowledge of that place’s landscape, soil and plants, it’s particular, peculiar identity and character, its seasons and weather, sunrises and sunsets, and the people and culture existing in that place, now and in times past.
4. A spiritual dimension, which is to say authentic wisdom—I’m not looking for doctrine, and I definitely don’t want to feel like a preacher or guru is telling me how to live my life. I’m looking for new insights into my own (and hopefully our) perpetual struggle to find compassion, healing and reconciliation in a broken world. I’m looking for the author’s reflection on his/her experience, and I want both the experience and the reflection to be resonant with truth.
5. Worth Reading again—I read a lot of books, most of them not very memorable. When I find a book that feels important, it becomes like a friend, someone I delight in spending time with. Sometimes I re-read a 4-star book; I always re-read a 5-star book.
Shepherd: A Memoir rates 5 stars from me because it deftly meets all of the above requirements:
1. Richard Gilbert is a master of the craft who writes expertly without showing off.
2. The memoir explores three archetypal (in other words, important!) quest themes. (I thank Shirley Hershey Showalter, for elucidating this in her marvelously written review ) which you can find by clicking here.
3. It is rooted in a distinct place, set on a farm in the Appalachian Valley of southeast Ohio.
4. “Richard Gilbert offers us glimpses of his soul,” says Shirley Hershey Showalter (I really think you should jump over to her blog and read her review of Shepherd.)
5. I am definitely reading this book again!
I recommend this book to readers: 1) who care about sustainability and living decently on this earth, 2) interested in the intersection of the active life with the contemplative life, 3) seeking truth while accepting of ambiguity, and 4) who enjoy well-written literary nonfiction.
You probably won’t like this book if: 1) You want a fast-paced thrilling adventure with lots of sex scenes and gore, or 2) you want hard-line moralizing about exactly what’s right and what’s wrong with the world and everyone in it, or 3) you prefer biographies by/about famous people who dish dirt on other famous people.
Although there are, in this story, honest portrayals of people who make mistakes and/or are less than righteous (including a good hard look at the author’s own failings), those sections are wisely tinged with compassion. And that makes Shepherd a memoir I can whole-heartedly love.
I'm required to disclose that I received this book as a review copy (I didn't pay for it), but I don't see what difference that makes. I've gotten many books for free (as gifts and as review copies) and that has never made me like any of them any more or less than if I had bought them.
In order to rate 5-stars, a memoir must be or have:
1. Eloquent writing—demonstrating comprehensive understanding of the craft, as well as the art, of wordsmithing, but without overdoing it. In my young years I got a kick out of word-cleverness for its own sake, but in my middle age (after decades of reading an average of 2 books every week) form-without-substance no longer amuses me, and I find it embarrassing when the author puts on an immodest tone of “look at what a literary genius I am!” I prefer a bit of modesty.
2. A coherent story—I want a narrative structure that makes dramatic/cinematic sense. It doesn’t need to be a chronologic telling, but it does need an arc derived from the classic pursuit of desire and the struggle with conflict/adversity, culminating when that pursuit is fulfilled or relinquished. In other words, I’m looking for a quest.
3. Rooted in a place—and if it’s a rural place, that’s even better. And if it’s about farming or growing, that’s best of all. In order to accomplish this, the author must possess intimate knowledge of that place’s landscape, soil and plants, it’s particular, peculiar identity and character, its seasons and weather, sunrises and sunsets, and the people and culture existing in that place, now and in times past.
4. A spiritual dimension, which is to say authentic wisdom—I’m not looking for doctrine, and I definitely don’t want to feel like a preacher or guru is telling me how to live my life. I’m looking for new insights into my own (and hopefully our) perpetual struggle to find compassion, healing and reconciliation in a broken world. I’m looking for the author’s reflection on his/her experience, and I want both the experience and the reflection to be resonant with truth.
5. Worth Reading again—I read a lot of books, most of them not very memorable. When I find a book that feels important, it becomes like a friend, someone I delight in spending time with. Sometimes I re-read a 4-star book; I always re-read a 5-star book.
Shepherd: A Memoir rates 5 stars from me because it deftly meets all of the above requirements:
1. Richard Gilbert is a master of the craft who writes expertly without showing off.
2. The memoir explores three archetypal (in other words, important!) quest themes. (I thank Shirley Hershey Showalter, for elucidating this in her marvelously written review ) which you can find by clicking here.
3. It is rooted in a distinct place, set on a farm in the Appalachian Valley of southeast Ohio.
4. “Richard Gilbert offers us glimpses of his soul,” says Shirley Hershey Showalter (I really think you should jump over to her blog and read her review of Shepherd.)
5. I am definitely reading this book again!
I recommend this book to readers: 1) who care about sustainability and living decently on this earth, 2) interested in the intersection of the active life with the contemplative life, 3) seeking truth while accepting of ambiguity, and 4) who enjoy well-written literary nonfiction.
You probably won’t like this book if: 1) You want a fast-paced thrilling adventure with lots of sex scenes and gore, or 2) you want hard-line moralizing about exactly what’s right and what’s wrong with the world and everyone in it, or 3) you prefer biographies by/about famous people who dish dirt on other famous people.
Although there are, in this story, honest portrayals of people who make mistakes and/or are less than righteous (including a good hard look at the author’s own failings), those sections are wisely tinged with compassion. And that makes Shepherd a memoir I can whole-heartedly love.
I'm required to disclose that I received this book as a review copy (I didn't pay for it), but I don't see what difference that makes. I've gotten many books for free (as gifts and as review copies) and that has never made me like any of them any more or less than if I had bought them.
September 26, 2014
I am three generations removed, on both sides of my family, from relying on farming for income. The closest my parents came was during my dad's law school years, when our suburban backyard hosted a handful of bantam hens, two turkeys, and a zucchini patch.
Any romantic notions I may have had about farming have been dispelled, and not in a bad way, by Mr. Gilbert's memoir. Life on a working farm is unyielding, while constantly in flux. Mr. Gilbert renders, in careful detail, the land that summons him, the sheep that absorb him, and the continual transformations of the terrain, livestock, and relationships that constitute his universe.
I discovered quickly that my paucity of knowledge regarding farming in general and ruminants in particular did not hinder my progress through or enjoyment of the book. Since Mr. Gilbert also lacked expertise when he began his journey, I learned alongside him. I connected more easily with other aspects of Mr. Gilbert’s narrative, particularly with the depictions of his Appalachian neighbors (which brought to mind certain mountain people I knew years ago in middle and east Tennessee) as well as his observation about inheriting his father’s burden. His recognition that the burden “must end with me” struck me with unexpected resonance (I recalled thinking those precise words only a few months ago).
More than once I felt the absence of a firm editorial hand, despite the strong writing (though I found only one actual word error). Nonetheless, having finished the memoir, I find my thoughts returning to this situation, or that character, contemplating Mr. Gilbert’s explorations of not only the sheep he keeps, but the wrinkles and hidden crevices of humanity.
Any romantic notions I may have had about farming have been dispelled, and not in a bad way, by Mr. Gilbert's memoir. Life on a working farm is unyielding, while constantly in flux. Mr. Gilbert renders, in careful detail, the land that summons him, the sheep that absorb him, and the continual transformations of the terrain, livestock, and relationships that constitute his universe.
I discovered quickly that my paucity of knowledge regarding farming in general and ruminants in particular did not hinder my progress through or enjoyment of the book. Since Mr. Gilbert also lacked expertise when he began his journey, I learned alongside him. I connected more easily with other aspects of Mr. Gilbert’s narrative, particularly with the depictions of his Appalachian neighbors (which brought to mind certain mountain people I knew years ago in middle and east Tennessee) as well as his observation about inheriting his father’s burden. His recognition that the burden “must end with me” struck me with unexpected resonance (I recalled thinking those precise words only a few months ago).
More than once I felt the absence of a firm editorial hand, despite the strong writing (though I found only one actual word error). Nonetheless, having finished the memoir, I find my thoughts returning to this situation, or that character, contemplating Mr. Gilbert’s explorations of not only the sheep he keeps, but the wrinkles and hidden crevices of humanity.
April 23, 2015
I thoroughly enjoyed this book and it seemed to grab my interest on all levels. I seem to lean toward books about farming, animals, nature and down to earth subjects. Partly the reason I feel is that my mother was a farmer's daughter in Ohio during the depression era. In fact she was born and reared in the Ohio Appalachian hills near Cambridge. My father was from the Appalachian mountains in Kentucky whose father was a coal miner who also raised tobacco and their own food. I am a generation away from the farming ethic but as I child we lived a pseudo farm "attitude". My mother cooked farm food with southern leanings because of my father. We had a large garden in our backyard in Los Angeles and I raised rabbits for their meat. I have felt compelled to read and devour books about farming and living in the country all my life. I envisioned marrying a farmer or rancher when I grew up. I instead married a sawmill worker who then worked as a hard rock gold miner who then ventured into the Forest Service. Of course this review isn't about me but because of my background and "leanings" this book grabbed me tightly and wouldn't let me go until the end.
I especially appreciated the author taking us, the reader, step by step into his world of being a shepherd. I think a few of us wannabes romanticize the world of farming and I felt a bit traumatized by how difficult the life and world really is. I never tired reading about his adventures and misadventures. I found the soul searching and the reminiscing and his trying to understand why he was trying so hard to make farming work. There is a running thread of trying to understand his relationship with his father and family and in particular if his stint at farming was to undo his own father's many failures at farming. I appreciate the openness and honesty, I found much to love and appreciate in this book and hated to have it end. This is one of my favorite quotes in the book:
"I wasn't a man of action, but someone obsessed with making sense of life, which felt, moment to moment, like swimming in a river of risk and beauty."
I relate to that statement so much because it seems to me that I deal with this in my own life; being an artist each day I feel like I am swimming through risk and beauty. I demand a book to resonate within me and to make me feel and think and this book did just that.
I especially appreciated the author taking us, the reader, step by step into his world of being a shepherd. I think a few of us wannabes romanticize the world of farming and I felt a bit traumatized by how difficult the life and world really is. I never tired reading about his adventures and misadventures. I found the soul searching and the reminiscing and his trying to understand why he was trying so hard to make farming work. There is a running thread of trying to understand his relationship with his father and family and in particular if his stint at farming was to undo his own father's many failures at farming. I appreciate the openness and honesty, I found much to love and appreciate in this book and hated to have it end. This is one of my favorite quotes in the book:
"I wasn't a man of action, but someone obsessed with making sense of life, which felt, moment to moment, like swimming in a river of risk and beauty."
I relate to that statement so much because it seems to me that I deal with this in my own life; being an artist each day I feel like I am swimming through risk and beauty. I demand a book to resonate within me and to make me feel and think and this book did just that.
February 18, 2015
Richard Gilbert shares the experiences and learnings of he and his wife, Kathy, both Ohio University professors embarking upon starting a hobby farm, Lost Valley/Mossy Dell Farm in rural Ohio to raise Katahdin sheep. Gilbert's father attempted to be a cattleman in California which failed, and then he pursued growing plants and running a nursery. Gilbert often questions his genetic makeup and how he too pursues dreams that at times may be more than he is prepared to handle.
Gilbert shares his trials and discoveries of animal husbandry, the delicate balance of the earth, the long hours of farming with little financial payoffs but receiving rich, non-monetary rewards in working the land, the ebb and flow of changing seasons, and the thrills when the farm thrived. Farm to table farming is hard work. In raising animals deep bonds are formed and it is difficult to have favored ones die or get sold. Red, Freckles, Old Mama, Kansas, Cream, The Good Mother were some of the favorites and best of the breed.
The lives of Richard, Kathy and their two children were enriched through the experience and as outsiders they slowly penetrated the social structure and built meaningful friendships with the neighbors and locals. I enjoyed his friendship with his neighbor, Sam, who started each day they worked together by saying "Let's go do something even if it's wrong." This is a slow paced book rich in detail about farming.
"Many of my breed-stock customers had this broader perspective from the beginning. They didn't aim to make money. They came to farming seeking aesthetic pleasure and solace from an angry world. And a word had arisen to honor food produced with less control but more craft: artisanal. The goal wasn't high production per acre, but food infused with love and time. Like art."
http://richardgilbert.me/book/
Gilbert shares his trials and discoveries of animal husbandry, the delicate balance of the earth, the long hours of farming with little financial payoffs but receiving rich, non-monetary rewards in working the land, the ebb and flow of changing seasons, and the thrills when the farm thrived. Farm to table farming is hard work. In raising animals deep bonds are formed and it is difficult to have favored ones die or get sold. Red, Freckles, Old Mama, Kansas, Cream, The Good Mother were some of the favorites and best of the breed.
The lives of Richard, Kathy and their two children were enriched through the experience and as outsiders they slowly penetrated the social structure and built meaningful friendships with the neighbors and locals. I enjoyed his friendship with his neighbor, Sam, who started each day they worked together by saying "Let's go do something even if it's wrong." This is a slow paced book rich in detail about farming.
"Many of my breed-stock customers had this broader perspective from the beginning. They didn't aim to make money. They came to farming seeking aesthetic pleasure and solace from an angry world. And a word had arisen to honor food produced with less control but more craft: artisanal. The goal wasn't high production per acre, but food infused with love and time. Like art."
http://richardgilbert.me/book/
June 11, 2014
READ THIS BOOK FOR ITS ARTISTRY...AND ITS HONESTY
I cannot recommend this book highly enough. For starters is the mastery of the braided story with shifts of scene and theme, gorgeous descriptions at every turn, and his ear for dialogue which is loving and respectful, but with vivid color and full of gentle humor.
But at the center all of it is Gilbert's extraordinary voice as a writer. There is no persona here; this book is the story about a real person who authentically immerses himself completely and intimately into everything--the weather, vegetation, his beloved sheep, and the lives of the people in a poor Appalachian community.
At one level, there is the haunting redemption of a distant father's paradise lost weaving through the background. There is the lifetime naturalist, who knows the identity and history of all the vegetation he encounters, the seasoned newspaper reporter for whom it is second nature to bag someone's story in a heartbeat, and a genuine curiosity about everything and everybody he encounters.
Most of all is the courage of his honesty. If not for the sheer pleasure of its artistry, read this book to find out what honesty is, because you can't sit down and make that up: you either have it or you don't, and Richard Gilbert possesses that rarest of gifts.
I cannot recommend this book highly enough. For starters is the mastery of the braided story with shifts of scene and theme, gorgeous descriptions at every turn, and his ear for dialogue which is loving and respectful, but with vivid color and full of gentle humor.
But at the center all of it is Gilbert's extraordinary voice as a writer. There is no persona here; this book is the story about a real person who authentically immerses himself completely and intimately into everything--the weather, vegetation, his beloved sheep, and the lives of the people in a poor Appalachian community.
At one level, there is the haunting redemption of a distant father's paradise lost weaving through the background. There is the lifetime naturalist, who knows the identity and history of all the vegetation he encounters, the seasoned newspaper reporter for whom it is second nature to bag someone's story in a heartbeat, and a genuine curiosity about everything and everybody he encounters.
Most of all is the courage of his honesty. If not for the sheer pleasure of its artistry, read this book to find out what honesty is, because you can't sit down and make that up: you either have it or you don't, and Richard Gilbert possesses that rarest of gifts.
February 26, 2017
Migrating to rural Appalachia from Florida, author Richard Gilbert shares his dreams, perils, and joys while raising sheep. Gilbert tells the story of how he and his wife purchased a seventeen-acre farmstead in the rolling hills of southeastern Ohio. Relishing the beauty of the landscape, his descriptive narrative is spot-on. His realization of Appalachia’s poverty and isolation is on target, too. Shepherd is about Gilbert’s interaction with sometimes quirky neighbors and sometimes quirky sheep… although not always, and the story unfolds as a life journey that embraces the excitement of lambing to the struggles of shepherding. Gilbert writes, “…I was embarrassed by my squeamishness over slime and blood and birth fluids.” A sincere, heartfelt memoir that is emotional and earthy, taking you into the herd, into the life of a true shepherd. Recommended reading.
August 11, 2014
I have read many books that are somewhat similar, about people who want to farm, then get to farm, and then subsequently learn how hard farming really is. I appreciated how honest he was about the process, what motivated him, his struggle to learn to live in the context of an Appalachian community. His story was heartening, as were his conclusions and lessons learned about himself, his family and life in general. Thanks Richard Gilbert for writing this book!
June 14, 2014
Meet Richard Gilbert: As a boy, reading Dad’s old farm books, I couldn’t tell sheep breeds apart; in photographs they’d all look the same: white and wooly, a poor fantasy livestock. The real ones lived far from our Space Coast boomtown.
Gilbert’s wife in the opening sentence: Kathy had found the farm yesterday, in the gentle snowfall of our first Appalachian winter.
His son Tom: He laughed helplessly, his cheeks red, thrilled to his core by her latest escapade.
His daughter Claire: She crouched and swung her elbows, scrunched her face at Tom as if she were a crone whose shoes weighed a thousand pounds.
(Tom and Claire’s descriptions are from one of my favorite scenes in the book.)
And Gilbert’s strait-talking neighbor and friend, Mike Guthrie: For all his provocation, we hit it off because we were alike in at least one respect. “For me,” he’d said, “farming is romance, not business.”
This is just a sampling from Shepherd, a beautifully crafted memoir with unforgettable characters told with love and honesty by a gifted storyteller.
Gilbert’s wife in the opening sentence: Kathy had found the farm yesterday, in the gentle snowfall of our first Appalachian winter.
His son Tom: He laughed helplessly, his cheeks red, thrilled to his core by her latest escapade.
His daughter Claire: She crouched and swung her elbows, scrunched her face at Tom as if she were a crone whose shoes weighed a thousand pounds.
(Tom and Claire’s descriptions are from one of my favorite scenes in the book.)
And Gilbert’s strait-talking neighbor and friend, Mike Guthrie: For all his provocation, we hit it off because we were alike in at least one respect. “For me,” he’d said, “farming is romance, not business.”
This is just a sampling from Shepherd, a beautifully crafted memoir with unforgettable characters told with love and honesty by a gifted storyteller.
November 10, 2015
What I like so much about this story is the honesty. This no rapturous tale of back-to-the land/farm romanticism. If anything Gilbert borders on the morose in sharing his transition, but he's open about that as well. Reading Shepherd is like accompanying a good friend on a journey of discovery. A bonus for me was familiarity with the setting and shared understanding of some of the challenges D@mn multiflora rose!!!
August 20, 2014
A great book about Gilbert’s farming life and how it tested his limits, his ambitions, and his role as a son and father. Beautifully written, funny, sad, and uplifting, Shepherd hits all the notes that make for a great reading experience.
Read
May 4, 2014A rich farm portrait.
https://www.kirkusreviews.com/book-re...
https://www.kirkusreviews.com/book-re...
July 31, 2014
This is a really special book. No wonder that it was highly recommended by Gene Logsdon!
January 26, 2015
I couldn't put it down, and I am not a farmer or shepherd and I had no previous interest in either topic. I picked it up at the library on a whim. Talk about an excellent surprise!
June 3, 2021
This was one of those books, that, while reading, I didn't want to end.
Richard and his wife (ok, it is probably more Richard, and his wife going along for the ride), pursues his dream of owning a farm. Little does he realize that he is carrying on the legacy of his father and grandfather, who were also a ernst-while pursuers of dreams, and not always successful ones.
From a relatively safe existence in Indiana, they move to southern Ohio near Appalachia. Not only do they have to forge a new life, they have to face the 'stigma' of being an outsiders by natives who have worked the land and have few resources to spare. They are lucky to be employed by the local university (His wife is a dean, and he manages the university publishing department), while they scour the area for a suitable farm on which to raise sheep. They eventually find a 'dream' farm, and make the purchase only to find that the buildings are not up to par to actually live in. While living in town (Athens), they set out to rehab the property. Enter the farmer across the road who wants to sell. The thought of more acreage is irresistible. The 2nd property has a better house (not by much), and is has rehab potential. Richard describes his moves forward, and his many setbacks, often the fault of not enough research on his part.
I learned a lot about sheep, and more than I would ever want to know about lambing, and the perils faced by a ewe in trouble. What I loved the most was Richard's lyrical writing...
Take this passage near the end of the book, describing the change of seasons...
"I walked the gravel driveway to the barn, and couldn't believe it was already October. The leaves had changed, though, and big wolf spiders again startled by occupying our house for the winter. They crept, regarded us like crabs in a sideways dodge, made chitinous crunch underfoot. Where did September go?
The morning was chilly and clear, the sky a brisk cloudless blue, the hilltop's everlasting breeze just awakening. As I stepped off the porch, a pair of mallards leap from the gravel in front of the barn, the hen with a loud quack; they flared overhead, the white undersides of their wings flashing, and rocketed toward Lake Snowden. I was wearing a gray fleece work shirt and a green knit cap, dressed for my mission of clearing the barn's central aisle so that tonight I could tow in a trailer loaded with bales of hay and stack them inside, safe from the low November sky I knew was coming."
He writes about friendships developed and people lost. He employs an older man, Sam, who teaches him more about the work on a farm than he realizes. Sam, unfortunately, gets cancer, and he, too, is a friend lost.
"After the service, a man in a stiff maroon sport coat made his way to me. It was Ed McNabbb, Fred's hunting buddy, the farmer from the other side of Lake Snowden who'd clashed with Ernie on our hilltop five years ago, each pleading his case in turn with my visiting mother. He shook my hand and thanked me. His wife, whom I'd never met, looked at me hard and said, 'You did a good job.'
That was acceptance, I understood. And there was the obvious: that I'd finally known a local man well enough to speak at his funeral. I would always be an outsider, but I'd been seen. And I understood that part of the genius of the place passed out of memory with men like Sam. All the same, I knew I'd failed to see what Sam meant to me when he was alive.
When he used to show up on my porch for work, as I went to answer the door I'd see him fidgeting. He'd be early and holding a wax-paper packet of cornmeal mush he'd made for me, and a foil-wrapped treats for Doty and Jack. (the dogs) With dew still on the grass, he'd have stretched over his boots low-cut black rubber galoshes, surely the real secret of his immortal leather.
I would make him visit with me, dragging out the day's start. But he'd want to get busy and soon would utter my favorite of his expressions, his Appalachian Zen retort to my demons and a reminder that perfection lies beyond us.
'Let's do something even if it is wrong.'
Then we'd step into the sunlight together, happier than we knew."
Beautiful book.
Richard and his wife (ok, it is probably more Richard, and his wife going along for the ride), pursues his dream of owning a farm. Little does he realize that he is carrying on the legacy of his father and grandfather, who were also a ernst-while pursuers of dreams, and not always successful ones.
From a relatively safe existence in Indiana, they move to southern Ohio near Appalachia. Not only do they have to forge a new life, they have to face the 'stigma' of being an outsiders by natives who have worked the land and have few resources to spare. They are lucky to be employed by the local university (His wife is a dean, and he manages the university publishing department), while they scour the area for a suitable farm on which to raise sheep. They eventually find a 'dream' farm, and make the purchase only to find that the buildings are not up to par to actually live in. While living in town (Athens), they set out to rehab the property. Enter the farmer across the road who wants to sell. The thought of more acreage is irresistible. The 2nd property has a better house (not by much), and is has rehab potential. Richard describes his moves forward, and his many setbacks, often the fault of not enough research on his part.
I learned a lot about sheep, and more than I would ever want to know about lambing, and the perils faced by a ewe in trouble. What I loved the most was Richard's lyrical writing...
Take this passage near the end of the book, describing the change of seasons...
"I walked the gravel driveway to the barn, and couldn't believe it was already October. The leaves had changed, though, and big wolf spiders again startled by occupying our house for the winter. They crept, regarded us like crabs in a sideways dodge, made chitinous crunch underfoot. Where did September go?
The morning was chilly and clear, the sky a brisk cloudless blue, the hilltop's everlasting breeze just awakening. As I stepped off the porch, a pair of mallards leap from the gravel in front of the barn, the hen with a loud quack; they flared overhead, the white undersides of their wings flashing, and rocketed toward Lake Snowden. I was wearing a gray fleece work shirt and a green knit cap, dressed for my mission of clearing the barn's central aisle so that tonight I could tow in a trailer loaded with bales of hay and stack them inside, safe from the low November sky I knew was coming."
He writes about friendships developed and people lost. He employs an older man, Sam, who teaches him more about the work on a farm than he realizes. Sam, unfortunately, gets cancer, and he, too, is a friend lost.
"After the service, a man in a stiff maroon sport coat made his way to me. It was Ed McNabbb, Fred's hunting buddy, the farmer from the other side of Lake Snowden who'd clashed with Ernie on our hilltop five years ago, each pleading his case in turn with my visiting mother. He shook my hand and thanked me. His wife, whom I'd never met, looked at me hard and said, 'You did a good job.'
That was acceptance, I understood. And there was the obvious: that I'd finally known a local man well enough to speak at his funeral. I would always be an outsider, but I'd been seen. And I understood that part of the genius of the place passed out of memory with men like Sam. All the same, I knew I'd failed to see what Sam meant to me when he was alive.
When he used to show up on my porch for work, as I went to answer the door I'd see him fidgeting. He'd be early and holding a wax-paper packet of cornmeal mush he'd made for me, and a foil-wrapped treats for Doty and Jack. (the dogs) With dew still on the grass, he'd have stretched over his boots low-cut black rubber galoshes, surely the real secret of his immortal leather.
I would make him visit with me, dragging out the day's start. But he'd want to get busy and soon would utter my favorite of his expressions, his Appalachian Zen retort to my demons and a reminder that perfection lies beyond us.
'Let's do something even if it is wrong.'
Then we'd step into the sunlight together, happier than we knew."
Beautiful book.
November 23, 2020
I loved this book. Equal parts pastoral beauty and ragged vulnerability, it's a humble and cleared-eyed depiction of both place and people. This memoir won't shock or excite you... but I think it will satisfy and stick with you.
September 3, 2019
I enjoyed this memoir of a man with no real farming background attempting to establish a sheep farm. It was an interesting read.
January 18, 2024
A book I enjoyed very much but probably not one for people who don't enjoy reading about sheep.
February 28, 2022
I liked reading about what he learned while farming, but felt that most of what he did was really about his relationship with his father. The way he rushed headlong into this dream, often leaving his family in the dust was unsettling. I know he found some peace at the end, but I found the end somewhat unsatisfying. He is a good writer, though.
January 19, 2019
Richard Gilbert's book provides some penetrating insights to agrarian Appalachian life in general and sheep farming in particular. But more than anything else, Shepherd: A Memoir demonstrates the power a dream has to motivate an individual. Gilbert's dream of becoming a farmer takes root during his boyhood when he lives on a farm near Leesburg, Georgia. After his father moves the family to Florida, Gilbert realizes how much he misses his Leesburg homestead. "My sense of having been torn from that dreamlike world of woods, fields, and coonhounds baying in the swamps almost brought me to tears."
After Gilbert and his wife Kathy move to Athens, Ohio, Kathy finds the farm that gives her husband the chance to fulfill his dream. Lost Valley, which Gilbert renames Mossy Dell, charms him from the moment he sets eyes on it. Much of the rest of the book details Gilbert's efforts to make Mossy Dell an enriching place to live and at least a partial economic success. Harsh weather, difficult neighbors, unanticipated expenses, and unhealthy sheep make this a daunting task.
Gilbert effectively balances his narrative about Appalachian rural life with heartfelt descriptions of off-the-farm adventures he has with Kathy and his children, Claire and Tom. The author supplements these accounts with recollections of his childhood family and the different dreams – including farming – that his own father pursued. Gilbert's complex, sometimes strained relationship with his father is a theme that reappears throughout his story.
Shepherd A Memoir does have dreary spots, and there are places where lengthy descriptions of the local flora and fauna slow its pace. Nevertheless, Gilbert's rich, varied vocabulary and smooth writing coupled with touches of self-deprecating humor make his memoir an enjoyable read. Shepherd A Memoir is an informative. and sometimes inspiring book that will be especially revealing to readers who are themselves considering a venture into farming.
After Gilbert and his wife Kathy move to Athens, Ohio, Kathy finds the farm that gives her husband the chance to fulfill his dream. Lost Valley, which Gilbert renames Mossy Dell, charms him from the moment he sets eyes on it. Much of the rest of the book details Gilbert's efforts to make Mossy Dell an enriching place to live and at least a partial economic success. Harsh weather, difficult neighbors, unanticipated expenses, and unhealthy sheep make this a daunting task.
Gilbert effectively balances his narrative about Appalachian rural life with heartfelt descriptions of off-the-farm adventures he has with Kathy and his children, Claire and Tom. The author supplements these accounts with recollections of his childhood family and the different dreams – including farming – that his own father pursued. Gilbert's complex, sometimes strained relationship with his father is a theme that reappears throughout his story.
Shepherd A Memoir does have dreary spots, and there are places where lengthy descriptions of the local flora and fauna slow its pace. Nevertheless, Gilbert's rich, varied vocabulary and smooth writing coupled with touches of self-deprecating humor make his memoir an enjoyable read. Shepherd A Memoir is an informative. and sometimes inspiring book that will be especially revealing to readers who are themselves considering a venture into farming.
January 22, 2015
Stumbled upon this book while browsing the library shelves. Almost returned it without reading. Glad I did not do so.
I grew up in then-still-rural NE Ohio. Relatives were farmers. Grew up baling hay and growing pine trees, owning a horse and pony. I get the allure of small towns and farming. My sister is an OU grad, and the book is set in the general area of Athens. It did take me a while to get into the story, but again, glad I kept reading.
Gilbert has a way with words, and a live for his family, farming and writing about life and the land. He explores the influence of family, esp. his dad, on his own life. One could have a field day applying Bowen family systems theory to it all.
It is a memoir, and more. It is good story.
I grew up in then-still-rural NE Ohio. Relatives were farmers. Grew up baling hay and growing pine trees, owning a horse and pony. I get the allure of small towns and farming. My sister is an OU grad, and the book is set in the general area of Athens. It did take me a while to get into the story, but again, glad I kept reading.
Gilbert has a way with words, and a live for his family, farming and writing about life and the land. He explores the influence of family, esp. his dad, on his own life. One could have a field day applying Bowen family systems theory to it all.
It is a memoir, and more. It is good story.
January 31, 2016
I’m glad I read this book. The author tells the story of moving from Bloomington, Indiana to Athens, Ohio - following his wife to her new job at Ohio University. He writes mainly about the work of farming that he took up. His wife sounds like a saint! He had a job at the OU Press and he ran a farm (seemingly full time) and he had a hand in raising their two children. It’s hard to imagine he had the time to do the writing he’s done here. It reads like an almost daily chronicle, as well as a meditation on life in this day and age, and his particular family history.
December 27, 2025
I had a love/hate relationship with this book. The author could write, and he had some gems of insight. But he also seemed incredibly self centered and naive in his pursuit of being a gentleman farmer. That said, I understand that he is a wonderful person - one that I actually knew during my short stint at IU Press.
set-aside-to-finish-later
April 24, 2017I received this book for free through First reads on Goodreads in exchange for an honest review. I just received the book, so I haven't had a chance to start reading it. The story sounds interesting...
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