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205 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2001
Larry Brown’s book Billy Ray’s Farm: Essays From a Place Called Tula is, simply put, nonfiction at its best. It is a collection of ten essays / stories of bone-hard truth which seem to bubble up to Brown’s conscious mind during his daydreams.
I love Larry Brown’s voice as well as his writing. Each of these tales is at least tangentially connected to life on Brown’s hobby farm in Mississippi (though he might take issue with my characterization of his homestead as a “hobby farm”). These stories all read like we Southerners think, act, and talk; the voice rings pleasantly and absolutely authentic.
I have not decided which of these stories I like the most. There are “By the Pond” (On restoring a pond), ‘‘Thicker Than Blood” (Hounds, hunting, and raising kids), “Harry Crews: Mentor and Friend” (On learning the art and craft of writing), “Chattanooga Nights” (Literary conferences and book tours), “Billy Ray’s Farm” (Eli the bull), “Fishing With Charlie” (Eulogy for a bluesman), “So Much Fish So Close To Home” (Bull’s out, fish grab), “Goatsongs” (Coyotes and baby goats), and “Shack” (teaching oneself to build house).
I gleaned some interesting trivia from these pages: When the author was a kid, the old folks in Mississippi called Pileated Woodpeckers “Indian Hens” (“Shack”). From the title story “Billy Ray’s Farm” I learned that there is a product called a “range cube” which is used to spur the growth of cattle (think of it as a multivitamin for cows).
I think this volume must give insight (or at least a clue) into how Larry Brown’s mind works. It’s like listening to an old friend who’s off on a rant or at least on a verbal roll.
Billy Ray’s Farm was too short for me. I was very sorry to come to the end of this wonderful collection. I have read several of Brown’s books including the biographical nonfiction work On Fire: A Personal Account of Life and Death and Choices. His fiction can be stunning; his novels are usually page turners, his short stories are often inspired, but his nonfiction - and most particularly Billy Ray’s Farm: Essays From a Placed Called Tula - rises to a level reached by very few writers.
I would be remiss if I failed to include Brown’s own list of his writing role models. It reads like a who’s who of all-star Southern authors. From the stories “Harry Crews: Friend and Mentor” and “Chattanooga Nights”, this is Brown’s list: William Faulkner, Flannery O’Connor, Raymond Carver, Cormac McCarthy, Charles Bukowski, Harry Crews, and Madison Jones. Brown named several additional authors to this list as “Mississippi friends”: Barry Hannah, Ellen Douglas, Jack Butler, and Willie Morris.
While that may not be an exhaustive list of great Southern “Grit Lit” writers or their Yankee counterparts (think Charles Bukowski), the authors named to this list comprise a pretty impressive bunch of pencil pushers.
I’ll definitely read this one again. In fact, I'm going to add this to my library.
My rating: 7.5, finished 9/21/21.
I had learned by then that the price of success for a writer came high, that there were years of a thing called the apprenticeship period, and that nobody could tell you when you'd come to the end of it. You just had to keep writing with blind faith, and hope, and trust in yourself that you would eventually find your way, that the world would one day accept your work.I enjoy essays very much and am a Larry Brown fan. But I was a little disappointed by this book. No, that's not the way to say it. This book couldn't have been his first book. This is the book that comes later, long after the apprenticeship, and after the world has accepted your work. You may have a ritual after a hard day's work. Maybe you watch your favorite TV show, or perhaps sit on the porch and watch the sun fall from the sky, or maybe swirl brandy in a snifter in the library of your house. This is that book, that piece of writing that is your reward, Brown's reward, for a job well done. So while I don't find these essays nearly as perceptive and rewarding as those of, say Tim Kreider, I do feel in them the pairing of his writing and his life at that point, a point where he could slow down, marvel at what was right in front of him, and write about it.